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Chapter Text

Alec smooths his hands down the sleek fabric of his tuxedo, taking a steadying breath. He hates royal balls, hates the way everyone seems to push their daughters towards any bachelor, young and old, just as his mother used to push him on every single man satisfying her strict expectations. Granted, she stopped for a while, allowed Alec to take a step back from the royal matchmaking events. She surely hoped for people to forget that her eldest used to be called Marquise once. As if that kind of knowledge wouldn't spread far and wide, even beyond the borders of their kingdom.

But tonight is a huge step for Alec – his first major event since ‘completing his transition’ as his mother, the Duchess of Alicante, called it. Alec isn't too sure about that. He still feels insecure sometimes, the rules for men not as ingrained in him as in his brothers, who never knew anything else. He's a man who fought hard to grow into himself. Long gone are daily thoughts of despair and hopelessness. But what if all of his efforts weren't enough? It's one thing to accept himself, to finally feel good in his own skin. But the judgement of others still bears heavily on him. At least, this isn't the court of his homeland. Maryse undoubtedly figured he'd have better chances of surviving the attention here than in Idris. But will he be enough? Convincing? Able to maintain a low profile?

His sister Isabelle had assured him he looked incredibly handsome, but he still feels a flutter of nerves as he rightens his tux for the umpteenth time.

“It's our turn, brother,” Jace says, sticking his head through the door. Alec takes a deep breath. No time like the present.

“The Marquis and Marquise of Alicante,” sounds through the throne room, and as often as Alec has heard these words before – him on Jace's arm, not Isabelle on his – he can't ignore the way the room seems to fall silent save for the string quintet playing in the background. He gives the crowd his most winsome smile and walks over the blue carpet through the sea of people who turn into a swarm of bees with their commentary on the quiet. Or maybe he's just imagining it.

Alec forces his eyes on the King of Edom, who is their host tonight. It hasn't been long since Edom and Idris concluded an honourable peace after centuries of wars and hostility. It's probably why Maryse decided it was time for Alec to return to his royal duties, marriages between members of the two dynasties of importance to guarantee long lasting peace.

Just like Alec used to be, Isabelle is one of Idris’ assets, and she's shining like a diamond tonight, her clothes, hair and jewellery signalling her youth, beauty, wealth, and good breeding. She surely will find a fitting husband tonight.

Alec bows in front of the king. As he straightens again, his eyes latch on to the prince royal standing at his father's side. Alec blushes under his burning, yet strangely gentle gaze. The man is beautiful, his hair layered in soft waves, his clothes a mesmerising mix of leather and silk, accentuating his trained body, and speaking of wealth and a fashion sense Alec could only dream of. Not that he would ever dare to wear such things. His dysphoria would skyrocket to the end of the galaxy. Sometimes, Alec envies cis men. He could never wear nail polish the way the prince does. Everyone would question his gender. He's pretty sure of it.

Isabelle has to tug on Alec's arm to make him move, Jace and his wife Clary already waiting in line. Alec marvels at the prince from afar, ducking his head whenever His Royal Highness looks his way. Or Isabelle's, more likely, as Alec is standing right behind her.

“The prince has cast an eye on you,” Maryse whispers to her daughter. It feels like a stab into Alec's heart. But he's being silly. If anything, he will meet his future wife tonight, no matter his own wishes. This is about politics, not finding love.

Before he opened up to his family, he knew coming out would be a decision between living as his authentic self or staying in a role that offered him the possibility of falling in love with the husband his parents would choose for him. For the longest time, Alec thought that would be all he could hope for. But with every passing year, his body became more and more foreign to him, something fighting against him, pulling him under. His nanny had called him the boy princess when he was about twelve, the way he sparred with Jace, roughhousing all over the palace instead of fighting as gracefully as his sister, betraying early on who he truly was. What had been playful and a running joke turned into a problem and a constant source of conflict between him and his mother, who tried to make a marriageable woman out of him.

Alec was raised to be a good daughter, and he tried his best to be his parents’ pride and joy. But the inner pain grew and grew until, one day, he couldn't pretend any longer. Dressed in Jace's clothes, he went to his parents and bore his heart to them. It took them a long while to understand. They sent him to doctors in hope of healing, but the experts said they couldn't as he wasn't ill. With three other children in line, they finally agreed reluctantly to support his transition, not without flaws, not enthusiastically, but nonetheless.

So, here he is, three years later, back in the shadows where he prefers to be. Isabelle is the new shining hope of the Lightwood family now. It hurts, but Alec understands. He must be grateful for what he has, he supposes. Jace will always be the son his mother is the most proud of, and Isabelle gets to be the family princess now, a real one in a ball gown and the family jewels. And Alec is allowed to live as a man every day, and with that comes joy Alec didn't think possible when he was at his lowest.

The banquet goes by as uneventful as expected. The princess from the House of Branwell seated next to Alec is an interesting person who turns out to have similar interests to him. His mother's approving look gives Alec incentive to be on his best behaviour even though he'd much rather look at the prince again. But he mustn't, hence his eyes betray his attraction. And marrying a fellow shadowhunter is probably the better choice anyway. He would only disappoint an Edom bride on the wedding night.

Alec watches Isabelle dancing with the Count of Dumort, beaming at him as if he hung the stars and the moon. He is of good standing, but it's obvious that Maryse is looking for a little more than him when it comes to her precious daughter. And she seems to get way more than she bargained for when one of the king's servants approaches their table.

“Your Grace,” he addresses Maryse, “His Royal Highness, Prince Magnus of Edom, asks if he may have the pleasure of a dance.”

“Not with me, I suppose,” Maryse quips, her smile warm and mild as she looks at the prince.

“No, Ma'am. His Royal Highness would like to dance with the marquis.”

“Marquis? You must be mistaken. He surely meant the Marquise.”

“No, Ma'am. He was specifically asking for the Marquis.”

Maryse looks at Jace who shifts around uncomfortably on his chair.

“I am here with my wife,” he splutters.

“My apologies,” the servant says. “I should have been more precise. I mean Marquis Alexander of Alicante.”

Alec feels like the air is suddenly too thick to breathe. His face reddens with all eyes at the table glued to him.

“But it's against etiquette for two men to dance,” Maryse argues, “and, I can assure you, the Marquis is a man. Please pass on to His Royal Highness that we are flattered by his request but we sadly can't approve of such an unheard thing.”

The servant bows and walks to the throne, leaning in to Magnus whose eyes narrow down on Alec as he listens.

“The gall,” Jace says. “He'd break protocol just to be a transphobic asshole.”

Maryse shushes him. “Language. We don't know if he knows about it. And he's still the Prince Royal. Even if this is meant to bring shame on us, we can't afford an éclat.”

“It's alright,” Alec says. At least, this crushes any feelings he might have harboured for the man. Beauty is deceitful. And if he learnt one thing from his mother, then it is that allyship is a fragile, malleable thing, no matter if it is about royal or queer politics. His mother has never addressed the latter in public, unsure or indifferent to how it would be perceived at court or amongst their people. She supports him on the quiet. It has to suffice.

Alec takes a deep breath when the prince sends the servant back to their table. Maryse straightens, readying herself for a diplomatic battle, most likely.

“Your Grace, His Royal Highness apologises for the misunderstanding and harm he might have caused. He asked me to explain that in Edom, courtship can be offered to people of all genders, and that his request was solely based on his admiration for your son’s extraordinary beauty that unlocked something in him.”

“Unlocked,” Maryse repeats.

“That's how he worded it, Ma'am.”

Maryse looks at Alec for a long moment. Alec can imagine the way she tries to find a diplomatic answer to the request. He feels like dying inside with Lydia staring at him and Isabelle clearly trying to suppress a giggle. She knows he's attracted to men. They used to gush over them all the time when they were teens. He stopped that when he started his transition.

“If the Prince Royal is sincere in his request, the Marquis is very honoured to dance with Him,” Maryse finally replies.

“Mom!” Jace presses out. “He's a man!”

“I am well aware of that.”

“You can't do that to Alec.”

“Why not?” Isabelle asks. “I'm sure Alec is more than happy to dance with the king's son.”

Alec shoots her a death glare.

“It's only a dance,” he says.

“Exactly. If it's custom here, who are we to disapprove? A dance isn't a marriage proposal,” Maryse decides. She sends off the servant while Alec still tries to remember how to breathe.

It doesn't get easier with the prince walking down the steps, heading towards him with a smile that sends butterflies through Alec's stomach.

Magnus bows in front of Maryse.

“Thank you for forgiving me my faux pas. I should have made sure our traditions align. But I couldn't take my eyes off the ethereal beauty that is your son.”

Maryse hides her surprise well, Alec's brother less so. He gapes at the prince until his wife pushes his chin up.

“Your Royal Highness, our family feels honoured that you deem our son worthy of your time,” Maryse says with a fake smile.

“Oh, Your Grace, the honour is all mine. Shall we, Alexander?” Magnus asks, offering his hand. Alec's heart flutters at the name so gently spoken and the feel of Magnus’ fingers touching his. It takes him a moment to rise from his seat. Unsure how or what to speak to the prince, he smiles shyly as Magnus leads him to the dance floor.

“My apologies, Your Lordship,” Magnus fills the silence between them. “It was incredibly rude of me to use your first name without adding your title. It just felt… natural.”

Alec's knees grow a little weak as the prince glances at him with the most beautiful eyes Alec has ever seen.

“There's no need to apologise, Your Royal Highness. I'm but a low royal compared to you.”

“Oh, there's nothing low about you. The welcome you received spoke for itself. Everyone was enthralled as much as I was.”

Alec blushes. “Your Royal Highness should know that there is an unfortunate reason for that,” Alec croaks as Magnus settles his hand on Alec's waist, stealing his breath once more.

“If it's gossip, I'm just too happy to ignore it. There is enough going around about little old me, and not much of it is true. But if you want to share it… I was told I'm a good listener, Your Lordship.”

“Your Royal Highness, Alexander or Alec is just fine,” Alec says, cheeks burning crimson. He can't handle this. Nothing prepared him for the whole court staring at them, for Magnus’ soft smile and firm body, for the goosebumps running over his skin, his heart beating like a drum as excitement and dread collide in his chest.

“Alexander it is then,” the prince decides, oblivious of Alec's misery. “But only if you call me Magnus,” he whispers into Alec's ear, sending another wave of goosebumps over Alec's body.

“With pleasure,” Alec breathes. At this point, he has no idea how to deal with this. Is his mother expecting him to simply comply with the prince's wish of dancing with him or is she seriously considering courtship? If it is the latter, does she expect him to flaunt what he has to offer? She forgot to add that part in his updated etiquette lessons. For good reasons, he supposes. She would never let him marry a man. Or would she if it was a prince?

Magnus swirls him around on the dancefloor. Alec's feet adjust rather quickly to the steps he used to practice in court shoes what feels like a lifetime ago.

“You're a good dancer,” Magnus praises. “Never has a man given up the lead so easily before,” he adds, sounding teasing. Alec freezes mid-step, bringing them to an abrupt stop. He looks at the nobility staring at him, at the tight lips of his mother, and the amusement playing on the king's face.

“Please, excuse me, Your Royal Highness,” he says and leaves the dancefloor, heading straight for the balcony. He needs fresh air. He wants to flee. Everyone is just making fun of him, including Magnus. A man of his status would never choose someone like him, not even for a dance. This is a sick joke, and Alec is the butt of it.

The cool night air clears his head somewhat, helps to hold in the tears pricking his eyes. Alec props himself up on the balustrade, looking at the city below. What he would give to be just an ordinary man and not forced on the public stage, with everyone scrutinising and deriding him.

“That was not how I raised you,” Maryse's voice comes from the door.

“I know. My apologies, Mother. I… I just couldn't take it. The humiliation.”

“If you had stayed till the end, the humiliation would have fallen on his side,” she counters.

“He sees me as a woman,” Alec grinds out.

“That might well be. Or he is one of those misguided people who truly court other people of their kind. If this society is perverted enough to tolerate such things, it's no surprise that the royal family sees no fault in it.”

“That's because there is none to see,” Magnus says from behind. Alec closes his eyes. How long has he been eavesdropping? If he didn't know before, he does now for sure.

While Alec doesn't dare to, Maryse turns around.

“I strongly disagree, Sir. But I won't argue your opinion. That's out of place as I am your father's guest. I don't want to cause offense.”

“So… you're what, Ma'am? A reluctant ally to the rainbow community? Accepting of your son's queerness but not those of others?”

“My son isn't queer, Prince Magnus. He just came into his manhood a little differently than others.”

“Far be it from me to force a label on others. Is your mother right, Alexander? Are you not a queer man?”

“I… I guess I'm not.” Alec glances at Magnus, pleading with his eyes to let it go. He can't lose his mother's fragile support. He would lose his family, his career, everything! He risked it all before. He doesn't know if he can do it again. And for what? His mother just made it very clear where she's standing on the topic.

Magnus wouldn't understand. His father is clearly supportive.

“I apologise if I overstepped, Your Lordship,” Magnus says. “I wish you a wonderful evening, Your Grace.”

Maryse curtsies in front of him. It's surreal. And painful to watch. Or maybe it's Magnus’ look that punches Alec in the guts before the prince turns away and leaves.

“Reluctant ally,” Maryse snorts when Magnus is out of earshot.

“But you are an ally, right?” Alec asks, not sure if he wants to hear the answer.

“Your father and I are allies when it's right for our family.”

“So… my transition was… a political decision?” Alec croaks.

“Everything about our lives is political, Alec. If the Queen told me to let you marry that man, I would allow it. Fortunately for you, she and King Asmodeus are planning to validate this peace with a child, and I very much doubt Imogen wants a pregnant man representing our kingdom.”

Chapter Text

“He was gorgeous,” Magnus sighs and jams his phone between his shoulder and ear. Even over the rustling of his crisp bag he can hear Catarina snicker on the other side of the line. “Don't laugh,” he chides. “I made him feel uncomfortable, and then, I pushed him to label himself in front of his queerphobic mother. Alexander will never talk to me again. And rightly so.”

“Which is probably for the better,” Catarina states.

“Why?” Magnus asks and fills his mouth with the snack. His father may have hired the best cooks of the continent for the banquet, but Magnus has always been a connoisseur of starred chef and supermarket food alike. And after this day, he deserves a handful of salty goodness.

“Because it's seldom that someone catches your eye,” Catarina replies, “and you usually fall hard and fast whenever it happens. And… he's a man. We already knew that you'd have to choose one of Idris’ daughters. You'd be in big trouble if that man came from a supportive family, ready to woo you or be wooed...”

Magnus hums noncommittally. He fears he's in trouble anyway. Asmodeus saw him dancing with Alec. Magnus knows his father. He's always up for mischief; if you're inclined to describe his love for mind games in a positive way. He's a demon in disguise, if you ask Magnus. If he had known his father would return so quickly from his private talk, he would have never dared ask Alec for the dance. But Alec was the only person who caught his eye in the long, boring train of people. He had to ask Alec, had to see him from up close. He couldn't help himself. God, the man blushed beautifully, felt so perfect in his arms. How could the whole thing go sideways so quickly? And Magnus made it even worse. What had gotten into him?

Catarina isn't wrong, though. His heart has been broken so many times before. He's too generous with it, and the people he's offered it to were only seldom worthy of it. But Alec… He made his heart beat a little faster. A complete stranger shouldn't have so much power over him. Not after Camille. Magnus knows that beauty is deceiving. He was set on dealing with the marriage business with a level head. Yes, she should be pretty, smart, with a noble and attractive personality. But he would look out for someone to be friends with first and foremost. Love would follow suit, his chamberlain Raphael asserted. And Magnus still harbours that hope. He'll be spending the rest of his life with that woman, after all. He knows, as the prince, he'd have certain freedoms, but Magnus is a romantic at heart. He wants a happy marriage to raise children together and, one day, to rule Edom with his wife by his side, as a confidant. That was the plan until tonight. It still is. But Alexander…

Their first eye contact was captivating. It could have been a thrilling encounter if handled right. Alec could have been a nice fling, a summer romance before duty would call, but even that is out of the window now.

“You could've saved me from myself if you had been here,” Magnus pouts. One look from Catarina would have likely stopped him from acting foolishly.

“Your father knew what he was doing when he sent me away for the weekend,” Catarina says. Magnus hums in agreement. As if the whole ordeal wasn't bad enough. Having to get through it without his best friends by his side was just another of his father's cruelties. But Catarina and Ragnor are the health care advisors at court, and the medical facilities of the land are, and are supposed to stay, the best in the region. Sending Catarina to present her latest studies at an international symposium is part of that. Having his only son fend for himself at one of the most crucial points of his life is a nice side effect for Asmodeus, Magnus reckons.

“I hope that conference is worth it,” Magnus says.

“It is,” Catarina replies. “I gotta go get breakfast now, though, or I'll be late for my presentation.”

Magnus looks at his watch. It's half past three in the morning. He supposes he should be grateful for the time difference. Better a late night call than nothing.

“Break a leg, my dear. Make our kingdom proud,” he wishes.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness,” Catarina replies, snickering. Magnus rolls his eyes and bids her goodbye.

He closes the crisps bag and puts it back in the cupboard. He ponders going to bed but he's still too pumped. Balls always have that effect on him. But he doesn't kid himself. Today, it's not just because of the dancing and animated conversations. No matter how much he'd tried to ignore Alec for the rest of the evening, his eyes were drawn to him, again and again, remorse and curiosity mixing strangely in Magnus’ chest. That look on Alec's face, it will haunt him for a while. Scared and pleading, panicked. Because of his own mother. Magnus wasn't blessed with growing into a man with his mother by his side, but he wants to believe that she would have been loving and supportive. But the Duchess of Alicante didn't seem to be either, her eyes as harsh as her sugar-coated words.

Magnus has been proudly out for so long, he has nearly forgotten what hiding parts of oneself is like. He knows he is privileged, living in a place where queer sexuality isn't a reason to be shunned, no matter if prince or commoner. Idris is way behind Edom in that regard, so it seems.

Magnus grabs his phone and gets comfortable on his chaise longue. He scrolls through his social media apps before he grows weak and types Alec's title in the browser. Alec is a Lightwood, he learns, the heir to one of the oldest so-called Shadowhunter families. Magnus skips the gossip sites in the search results. He can only imagine what the press made of Alec's transition. The yellow press is the same everywhere, even in countries that control royal reporting.

Looking up the man who caught his eye doesn't do him any good. Magnus’ mesmerisation only grows with every new search result he opens. Alec represented his country at the Olympic Games. He won silver as an archer. It was the third medal the small country of Idris has ever won in the tournament, next to one in judo and another for boxing. Alec used to be the big hope for gold the next time around when he suddenly disappeared from public view and all tournaments. Due to his transition, most likely. It's a sacrifice Magnus can barely imagine. How strong Alec must have been in the face of so much pressure to put family and country over his own happiness? And still, he chose himself. It's impressive, especially for a teen who grew up in a society where the individual counts little.

Maybe Magnus got it all wrong. Maybe Alec is straight. Maybe the blush on his cheeks was from embarrassment, from the impossible position Magnus put him in, not from being positively flustered and entranced by Magnus’ charm. Maybe, Alec is straight and doesn't identify as queer due to it. Or the term is still tarnished for him, not a proudly reclaimed slur.

But there was something in the air when they first laid eyes on each other. It was like a lightning bolt shooting through Magnus’ body. Instant attraction, but also… recognition? Of souls, maybe. Or it's simply Magnus’ starved heart whispering nonsense into his ear.

Yes, it must be that. He needs to forget Alec. Because it doesn't matter. Catarina was right. He's supposed to find a wife.

But Magnus can't switch off his phone, his eyes glued to the picture of Alec standing on the victory podium, smiling as brightly as the sun. Like this, the family resemblance between him and Isabelle is even more striking.

Magnus clicks the picture away. It feels intrusive to see Alec in his pre-transition form. This is not how Alec wants to be perceived.

An email notification with the subject “Updated Schedule” pops up on Magnus’ screen. He opens it, scanning the marked changes. It's a day full of meetings with Shadowhunter families, families that caught Asmodeus’ eye or were recommended by his advisors as possible fits.

Blackthorn

Branwell

Jahanshah

Ke

Lightwood

Shoot! He knew it! His father is playing one of his stupid games. He loves seeing Magnus squirm. Not that he has been successful lately. Magnus has grown a thick skin.

Magnus clicks on the link, opening the info sheet. Asmodeus put the whole Lightwood family in the dinner slot. Just great. A full day of meeting potential brides with the big finale of Asmodeus affronting the Lightwoods by suggesting an alliance through Magnus marrying Alec.

Magnus throws his phone onto the sofa and buries his face in his hands with a groan. He gives himself a minute to curse his life, then he pulls himself up and gets ready for bed. He decides to take a sleeping pill. He'll need a few hours of sleep if he wants to survive the day. He wishes he could just sleep a whole day straight. But duty is duty. And Magnus isn't a coward. He just hopes the day won't end in a scandal threatening the fragile peace.

Chapter Text

Alec squints at the tower on the other side of the town square. From up here, he has a good view over the whole city. It reminds him of Alicante, just warmer, the red stone of the city reflecting the sunshine way differently. It's unsettling somehow. Or it's just Alec who feels untethered.

He has the urge to feel the cut of a bowstring on his fingers, the pain familiar, grounding and soothing. But he hasn't had that kind of relief in weeks. He knows the rules. White gloves and fresh wounds don't match well. He trained. Of course, he did. He needs the focus, the exhaustion, the empty head and steady heartbeat his sport brings. Maybe, the queen will find it in herself to let him compete again, now that he has had his official debut.

Alec closes his eyes and imagines the shot across town. It doesn't help to keep him from fidgeting. His mother had managed to drive him crazy. Isabelle, usually his rock, was beside herself as well. She didn't think the king would consider her. Alec isn't surprised. She and Magnus would make a beautiful couple.

Alec pushes away the envy tightening his heart. He knew he wouldn't find love last night. Surviving the night had been on his agenda. And that he did. With a few more added cracks in his heart, truth be told, but he's used to it. And still…

“Hey, Alec,” a familiar voice comes from the door.

“Andrew,” he replies. “How was lunch with the king?”

Alec's old Olympia colleague chuckles. “Entertaining.”

Alec raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Asmodeus suggested me as a spouse.”

“What?” Alec exclaims. “You're joking.”

Andrew shrugs. “He sure likes causing trouble.”

“How did your parents react?” Alec asks, the mere thought making him feel sick.

“They took it in their stride. My father declined, overly polite.” Andrew snorts.

“I'm sorry that happened to you,” Alec croaks.

“There are worse proposals, aren't there? Magnus is a good-looking man. Very charming, too.”

“You… would consider it?” Alec asks, flabbergasted.

Andrew shrugs. “At least, then, I would marry a man. Respectable Shadowhunters are not supposed to bring my sort home to meet Mom and Dad.” He laughs.

“I suppose,” Alec says, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “So… you're gay,” he presses out, the word feeling weird on his tongue.”

Andrew furrows his brow. “I thought you knew. Given me still being a bachelor.”

Alec huffs a laugh, releasing a bit of the built-up tension. “I always envied you for that.”

Andrew's eyes grow narrow as he raises an eyebrow. Alec knows how that sounds. Shadowhunters marry young. Even he is old in terms of tradition.

Alec looks over his shoulder, but his mother is nowhere in sight. “I don't know what's better. Staying single or marrying someone I could only love platonically.”

“I've been asking myself the same. But… I want it all, Alec. I want passion and love. I wanna build a life with somebody who cares about me. Not just as friends.”

Alec nods. "Magnus sure would,” he says despite himself.

“You two looked good together,” Andrew states.

Alec hums, not really agreeing. He knows they'd be an odd couple. Not that he would mind. But it's not an option anyway. Even if Asmodeus should propose it tonight during dinner, Maryse and Robert would never agree to that.

“It would mean so much to so many Shadowhunters if someone would break that barrier,” Andrew muses.

“I doubt that the Queen would give her assent,” Alec states. In their realm, no one can marry without the Queen's blessing.

Andrew shrugs. “She's a strategist. If it'll save the peace, she'd hold the ceremony herself.”

Alec laughs out loud. He can just imagine the thin line of her lips, wishing the newlyweds all the best. He's not even sure if he's ever seen that woman smile.

“There are enough other options,” Alec argues. “Your sister would be a good match. Izzy, too. Lydia…”

“Sure,” Andrew agrees. It sounds like a ‘but’, but he stays quiet after.

“I'm going out tonight,” he says eventually. “Edom is known for its gay scene. Wanna join us after duty?”

Alec's eyes flicker to the door in panic. He blushes. “I… I can't.”

“Why not?”

“What if someone sees me?”

Maryse would lock him up or speed-run his first diplomacy post, somewhere on the other side of the world. Somewhere where being gay is just as frowned upon as back home.

“The world has already seen you, Alec,” Andrew says, voice grave and serious. “This is just a nightclub, a place to have fun. The prince owns every single dance venue in town. I heard it's very tasteful. He might even come and blow off steam. Who knows? Maybe he'll dance with you again,” Andrew smirks. Even if Alec were inclined to go, that prospect makes the decision for him.

“I hope you'll have fun,” he says, pushing himself off the balustrade. Andrew nods, unspoken words swimming in his eyes. In another world, he could be Alec's mentor, could introduce him to the queer scene. But Alec knows his place, knows his duties. Having fun isn't part of it. That's reserved for others.

Chapter Text

Magnus bows towards the Duchess of Alicante as the dinner party breaks open to divide itself into clusters of conversation. He knows the drill. Asmodeus may not be the most conventional king, not even an average father, but Magnus’ mother and nannies raised him well.

Maryse is nauseatingly sweet as they talk, her smile a ludicrous replica of the genuine one on her daughter's face. Did life make her that way or has she always been like this? Magnus tries not to think too closely about it. He doesn't want to imagine himself or anyone his age turning bitter and cynical over time. Especially not the man standing alone to one side of the room who bows towards him when Magnus walks his way, a glass of champagne in each of his hands.

Alec's cheeks are dusted pink, a nervous twitch of his left eye the only indicator of the nervousness surely running through the marquis as he accepts the offered drink.

“Your Royal Highness,” Alec addresses him.

“Your Lordship,” Magnus returns. It's the slightest of movements, but Alec's shoulders – perfect in position before – relax a little. It makes Magnus’ heart ache. Did Alec think he'd be disrespectful towards him?

“It's been such a lovely day,” Magnus states. “I hope you enjoyed it.” It's not his best small talk but he thinks he should tread lightly.

“Well, there are always things to do, people to meet,” Alec replies cryptically.

“Did you do a bit of sightseeing?” Magnus enquires.

“Unfortunately not. I had a few meetings with fellow Shadowhunters.”

“One would think that you are all running into each other all the time in a small country such as yours.”

Alec huffs a laugh. “One would, wouldn't they? But no. I still have to catch up on networking.”

“I can't imagine a man as charming as yourself would struggle with such a task.”

Alec's eyes flicker to his mother before he replies, “Shadowhunters usually build strong bonds at a very young age. Those bonds carry us through our lives. Our connections are theirs, and their connections are ours.”

“You're talking of parabatais, right?”

“Yes,” Alec says, eyes widening in surprise. “You studied our culture?”

“I'm not an expert by all means, but I like to understand people's minds. Culture is an intrinsic part of that, don't you think?”

Alec nods. “I completely agree. Language, too. That's why I love studying them.”

“Which do you speak?” Magnus asks, intrigued. Never underestimate a pretty face, he reminds himself.

Alec chuckles nervously. “I'm fluent in English, French, Hindi, Mandarin and Spanish. I have a reasonable grasp of Italian, Japanese, Portuguese and Arabic. I recently started to study Indonesian, just for fun.”

Magnus swallows hard. Does Alec know? How well was he briefed about the Edom royal family? Does anyone see his mother as anything but a footnote to history anyway?

“Then you probably know more than I do,” he says as lightly as he musters. “My mother spoke Indonesian with me when I was a boy.”

Alec pales as he realises his faux pas. “My sincerest apologies. I forgot…”

Magnus waves him off. “Don't worry, Alexander. We've both put our foot in our mouths now. Let's call it even.”

It's a weak move. Magnus should properly apologise for the way he behaved last night. He knows that. But with Alec standing right in front of him, the shy smile on his lopsided lips, the darkening blush on his cheeks, he's more sure than ever that he's read Alec right all along.

“You're too gracious, Your Royal Highness. Thank you,” Alec replies.

“None of that. Tell me more about the parabatai bond. Is that the rune on your neck?” Magnus asks, allowing himself to enjoy the reddening skin right underneath said tattoo.

“No,” Alec huffs. “That's… it used to be, but I had it covered when my parabatai decided to undo our bond.”

So much for putting one's foot in one's mouth.

“I thought those were irresolvable,” Magnus says.

“They are. Usually. But special circumstances moved the Queen to allow it. My parabatai was seventeen, you know?”

Magnus supposes that the number should mean something to him, but it doesn't.

“Why is that relevant?” he can't help but ask. There's something in Alec's eyes that he can't quite place, and it unsettles him to his core for some reason.

“Parabatais need to be bonded before their eighteenth birthday. This way, she could find somebody else to bond with,” Alec explains, his voice void of emotions.

“Oh, Alexander,” Magnus presses out, his heart breaking for the man in front of him. “And you were?”

“I had just turned eighteen.”

Magnus closes his eyes for a moment. How many more sacrifices did Alec have to make, just to be himself out in the open?

“I'm so sorry,” Magnus says. Alec shrugs as if it were nothing.

“My mother always taught us, ‘Lightwoods break noses and accept the consequences.’ My parabatai couldn't follow me where I was heading. I would have pulled her down with me. She did what was best for her. She just… She was always the more outgoing, charming, better networking one of us. I relied on my family's connections and my parabatai's likability. I have to forge my own way now. And I will. This isn't a pity party. I was groomed to be a diplomat. I will make my country proud.”

“You already did, didn't you? Silver at the Olympic Games,” Magnus tries to steer the conversation to nicer memories.

Alec blows a breath through his nose. “It wasn't gold,” he states. Magnus swallows hard. Who the hell put that thought into Alec's head? Not even Asmodeus would say such a thing about a high-ranking achievement like that. He'd proudly display the medal for everyone to see. Not that Magnus would run the risk to ever go to the Olympics. He excels in ballroom dances, but those aren't an Olympic discipline.

“I'd love to see you shoot arrows sometime. I'm sure there's a shooting range somewhere in Edom,” Magnus says despite himself. God, he needs Catarina. He's not strong enough to resist this man all on his own. Beauty and tragedy. Magnus loves both equally, and Alec carries them both, probably not even realising he does. It accentuates both traits even more, strengthening the gravity of the marquis.

“It would be my honour,” Alec replies. “But I've been keeping you away from the others with my silly stories for far too long. Can I introduce you to my sister? I mean, she's the reason why we're all here tonight, right?”

Right.

“Yes, of course. Unless my father wants to raise hell tonight…”

Alec huffs a laugh. “Andrew already told me about his stunt earlier.”

“Which Andrew?” Magnus asks.

“The Marquis of Underhill.”

“The handsome blond, right?”

“You think he's handsome?” Alec asks.

Magnus bites the inside of his cheek. “He's not really my type, but from a point of western beauty standards for men…” he trails off, hoping for Alec to read between the lines.

Alec wets his lips. “What is your type then?”

God, have mercy! This man will be the death of him. But Magnus can give as good as he gets.

“Dark hair, kind eyes,” Magnus murmurs, leaning in to Alec's ear. Much to his delight, his breath fanning out over Alec's skin elicits goosebumps, setting off a shiver running through Alec's body before he catches himself.

“So… m–my sister should be right up your alley,” Alec croaks. Magnus suppresses a sigh and pulls back. Not even this little joy will the other man allow himself.

Magnus looks over to the marquise who he finds watching them with indeed kind yet sad eyes. Their gazes connect for an inappropriate long moment. But there's no heat, no longing, no tension of possibilities.

“She'd make a good wife and a loving queen,” Alec continues. “She is loyal and strong, smart and funny. She is a good listener and a brilliant advisor. Also… I heard you like to take to the floor. You won't find anyone as good a dancer as her in the whole Kingdom of Idris.”

Magnus hears the words as he's still keeping eye contact with the woman on the other side of the room. He can see the truth of Alec's words, the care and worry, the love and dedication of his sister, her outer beauty and her inner strength. And still, it all doesn't matter. Magnus’ heart is already taken, and he's always been a one-soul-at-a-time kinda guy.

Chapter Text

Alec has to confess he doesn't hate this evening as much as he thought he would. Isabelle's suggestion at the dinner table for Magnus to invite them to one of his clubs for getting acquainted in a more relaxed environment had sounded like a good idea until it became clear that Alec was supposed to be part of the ‘delegation’. Asmodeus had insisted, and Maryse had agreed with a gritted smile.

So Alec is in a club for the very first time, the music loud, the beat thrumming through his body. Isabelle is having the time of her life, flirting with the count from last night. The count who ironically shares his name with the establishment they're in. It's an old hotel, exquisitely redecorated, the modern flair interestingly not clashing with its historical features. Alec can appreciate its beauty. Magnus has taste, but what's new?

New is to see how people flock to him, how they stumble over themselves to get his attention, how they scramble for a smile, a dance, a drink to hold for him. He is a king in waiting, so different to the man Alec shared improperly intimate stories with. With anyone else, that could have been a disaster. But there is something about Magnus that loosens Alec's tongue, makes him open up, cracks him open even. It's not with force, just with little things. Eyes that are sympathetic. Questions that are born from interest. Someone seeing him despite Alec trying to stay invisible.

It's unsettling. It's exhilarating. It's going to be his downfall. Because, what if Magnus chooses Isabelle as his wife? Alec would have to cut himself off from his closest confidant. Yes, there's Jace, but their relationship is different. Alec has known Isabelle from the day she was born. They share secrets. She can look into his soul like nobody else. She so clearly knows that he is crushing on her possible future husband.

Not that it would matter. Alec was raised to put family and honour above all else. Unless Magnus chooses her, Alec will likely marry Lydia. She's groomed to be a diplomat, just like him. Maryse said they'd make a power couple. She's probably right.

“Come on, Alec. Dance with us,” Clary shouts over the music. Alec stares at her outstretched hand for a long moment before he shakes his head. He can't. He has watched Magnus all night. He might actually shimmy his way, pull him into his arms as he's done with so many others. Magnus is a party animal. Maybe he's just enjoying his freedom as long as it lasts, but Edom truly is a society where gender doesn't play a role. No, Alec won't add insult to injury. His heart is aching with every person Magnus lays his arm around, and there are many. Alec doesn't even think it's because Magnus is the prince royal. People genuinely like him. It figures.

Alec waves a waiter to refill his drink. Unlike his siblings, Magnus didn't make fun of him for forgoing the booze on offer. Does he understand Alec's need for control? Does he think he's a boring, uptight person who can't let loose? He'd probably be right.

Alec checks the time. He gives himself half an hour more so as not to insult Magnus by leaving too early. What he'd give to be on a shooting range and forget his miserable life.

No, that's not a fair thought. He has it so much better than many, many people in the world. He's just raw from all the emotions lacing around his heart like a tightening net. He's never felt like this before. Magnus is like a solar eclipse. Alec knows he'll hurt himself looking at him, but he can’t not look either. Why of all people in the world does he have to fall for Magnus, Prince of Edom?

Alec closes his eyes as they start pricking with tears. This will pass. It has to. For his own good.

“Are you alright, Alexander?” the softest of voices reaches his ears. Alec could dwell in its sound for hours. But he won't allow the siren's call to pull him under.

“Of course,” he says, opening his eyes.

“You haven't danced all night,” Magnus states.

“I'm not much of a dancer,” Alec replies, his stomach flipping when Magnus sits down next to him. Alec should have chosen one of the armchairs, not a sofa to settle on. It's too late for that now.

“That wouldn't have occurred to me last night,” Magnus says, his voice slightly teasing.

Alec exhales slowly. “That was just a ballroom dance. Those aren't exactly applicable in such a setting.”

“Oh, with the right partner, you can slow dance to every song,” Magnus smirks.

“As you did with the lady in the blue dress?” Alec could hit himself for asking. He's such a dummy.

“That was an old friend of mine. We've known each other since kindergarten.”

Alec hums in acknowledgement. “Your moves are impressive.”

“Why thank you, Alexander. I love to dance.”

Alec could see that. Magnus looked so free. He envies him for it. A few years ago, he would have thought his mesmerisation was born out of gender envy. It probably still is, in parts. Magnus is free to express himself whichever way he likes. When Alec so much as wears colours that aren't dark, he doesn't know if it comes off as too feminine. It shouldn't matter, but he can't help holding on to what feels safe attire. What feels safe, full stop. He's probably a coward, hiding in plain sight.

“Was this actually a hotel before?” Alec asks, trying to steer the conversation away to safer waters.

“My people have a long-lasting friendship with the French, you know? This used to be the city hall, during the occupation. It's a play of words.”

Alec swallows hard. Hôtel de ville. Hôtel du mort. He sometimes forgets that their kingdoms used to invade each other all of the time, leaving bloodshed behind.

“I wondered about the name,” he croaks.

Magnus chuckles. “Funny, right? My people always had a dark sense of humour. Idris brought wave after wave of death to my country.”

“So did Edom to ours.”

Magnus nods, his look growing sober. “Yes. But that's all history now, right?”

“I'll drink to that,” Alec says, lifting his glass. Magnus gives him a warm smile. Alec can't help but return it. Butterflies storm his stomach as Magnus’ eyes don't leave his face. It's unsettling to have Magnus’ full attention. Alec doesn't think anyone has ever looked at him that way. He feels like dissolving at his edges. Magnus seems to sense it as he grounds him with a warm hand settling on his arm, the point of contact burning through the thin fabric of Alec's dress shirt.

“There's nothing to be ashamed of, Alec,” Magnus says, his lips way too close again. The thought of kissing them makes his heart skip a beat.

“I can't change my country's past. I can only try to do my part to make it better,” Alec replies more firmly than he thought possible with Magnus so close.

“I wasn't talking about Idris,” Magnus says gently.

“Then I don't know what you're talking about,” Alec presses around the heart in his mouth.

“You will,” Magnus says and squeezes Alec's arm before he pulls away, leaving behind the phantom pain of warmth and desire.

Alec takes a deep breath before he stammers out an excuse and flees the night club. Maybe Magnus’ people are right. Maybe Idris is a country populated with the dead. At least, when you're different, straying from the path. Alec surely soon will be dead inside. Maybe then, all of this won't hurt any longer. The thought isn't as comforting as it should be.

Chapter Text

“You seem to have made your choice,” Asmodeus says nonchalantly over the breakfast table.

Magnus swallows hard. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh, Son, you're not as subtle as you think you are.” Asmodeus chuckles. Magnus tries to ignore the heat rising into his cheeks. He thought he was pretty smooth covering it up, but well. His father has the uncanny talent of being able to read people, to see their secret desires and needs and use them to his advantage. Just that there is no advantage to be had this time. Unless Asmodeus wants to send his son into a dire future, which is a possibility Magnus can't foreclose, but which he still hopes isn't true.

“It's a draw between the Branwells and the Lightwoods, isn't it?” Asmodeus says. “One the logical choice, the other made by your heart.”

Magnus exhales slowly. “My heart can't be part of this consideration, as you well know, Father.”

“I chose your mother for love,” Asmodeus argues. Magnus bites his tongue. His father's love is poisonous, and he knows enough about his parents’ marriage to acknowledge that he isn't a child conceived in loving passion. The thought that his own children won't be either is a burden that's already weighing heavily on him, but if he manages not to hurt his spouse in the process the way his father did, he can call himself lucky, he reckons. That's why a level-headed woman with a preference for logic over feelings, like Lydia, is probably a good choice. There's no risk in hurting each other when both already know there isn't some big romance on the horizon for them. Lydia is still in mourning over her big love, and Magnus figures – by the current looks of it – he will be in his own path of grief when they go to tie the knot. Not even two full days were enough for Alec to worm his way into Magnus’ heart. He's never learnt how to rip this kind of seed out of his core before it starts sprouting, and while he did a good job building a wall around his heart in the past, Alec has torn it down already with ease, as if Magnus had never put up defenses at all. It figures.

Dear Isabelle would probably be a better fit than Lydia, equalling him in wit and zest for life. But that would mean the person who has kept him up all night would be just out of reach but ever present, a ghost haunting his marriage. No spouse deserves such a fate, especially not a loving sister.

He supposes his father is right. Magnus has made his decision. Albeit one his heart still has to come to terms with.

“You know it's not uncommon for a royal to have a public relationship and another in private,” Asmodeus states matter-of-factly. It's not that the thought hadn't crossed Magnus’ mind, especially with Isabelle dancing and giggling the night away with Simon. Things could be figured out, Magnus supposes, but is that what he wants? For him and his spouse to live their own, separate lives? How does one even raise kids like that? As a polycule? Well that would be something for the history books.

It's a silly thought anyway. They could never pass off Simon's offspring as Magnus’. Not that Magnus would mind raising children who aren't his blood, but Simon is the last of the Dumorts. His house will die with him if he doesn't produce legitimate offspring. And if Magnus is honest with himself, if he is with the man person he loves, he doesn't want to hide them. He wants to share everything with them, just like he had planned to with Camille.

Such an arrangement would take the pressure off Alec, however. He'd never have to come out to his parents or the world. He wouldn't have to go through a passionless marriage. He could be a liaison officer or something like that. Things can be arranged when you're the future king.

The smirk on his father's face makes Magnus school his own. He allowed Asmodeus to tamper with his head. This is nothing to realistically ponder. Besides, Alec may not even want him. Sure, there is that undeniable pull between them, the longing in Alec's eyes, the panic when they had gotten too close—like a deer caught in the headlights but with enough self-preservation to take flight.

No, Lydia is the sensible choice. Lovers can be had. Asmodeus is right. But true love? Well, maybe in another lifetime.

“Are you listening?” Isabelle asks. Alec blinks himself out of his reverie and hums. No, he wasn't, but it's hard to stay focused when the man you desire is in deep conversation with the woman you are likely going to marry. Unless he chooses her, of course. Which would be a double kick to Alec's stomach, but that's the way of his life, he supposes.

“So you're going to join us?” Isabelle asks. Alec has no idea what this question is about, so he tries to figure it out before he agrees to go to a rave or something.

“Where and when exactly?” he asks.

“Simon said Magnus reserved the range for the whole afternoon. He might even want you to teach him,” Isabelle teases.

Dammit! Magnus is taking him up on his promise. It's probably to bond with the whole family, to see if he gets on with the Lightwoods without liquor being involved. Alec can't say no, can he?

“Who else is gonna come?” he still stalls.

“From our side it's Clary and Jace, Aline and Emma, as far as I know.”

“Emma Carstairs?”

“Hm.”

Another archer, one he used to train with. So this isn't a way to get into his pants, Alec reckons. It's a bit disappointing. Alec knows how stupid that feeling is. He can't have Magnus. He mustn't fall even more. Maybe Magnus just has a thing for people shooting arrows. Isabelle isn't half bad either. She might impress Magnus further. No, it's a good thing, Alec decides. He can finally get rid of the itch. With so many people around, no one will care about him or about him ‘forgetting’ to use his protection.

“Alec?” Isabelle asks, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

“Hm?”

“Getting your attention is really a challenge today,” Isabelle huffs.

“Sorry. I didn't get enough sleep last night.”

“Were you busy thinking of you-know-who?” she smirks.

“What? No! I mean… Who?” God, he's such a loser. Isabelle laughs out loud. As if any of this would be particularly funny. It probably is as a first row spectator. Not so much for the male lead of this comedy of errors.

“I'm sure you'll have his whole attention all afternoon,” Isabelle says, a smile audible in her voice. Alec makes the mistake of looking across the room, directly into Magnus’ gentle gaze. His heart thumping in his chest, Alec tears his eyes away.

“You should go for it,” Isabelle says softly.

“For what?”

“For Magnus.”

“The Prince Royal? Really? Why not court the Pope while we're at it?”

“Because you're not Catholic, dearest brother. You know, things could work out with you and Magnus. He's clearly smitten with you, has barely taken his eyes off you since we arrived.”

Alec scoffs. As if!

“I think he is just drawn in by a curiosity like me.”

“Alec! Don't talk about yourself like that! You're a catch, and he sees it.”

“The Queen will never allow two men to marry, Iz. And I won't break my own heart pretending otherwise.”

Isabelle's face grows serious, her eyes soft with sympathy. “You really do have feelings for him, don't you?” she asks, squeezing his forearm.

“What does it matter?”

“It matters a lot, hermano. It means you're truly in love for the very first time.” Her eyes grow sad as she says it.

Alec nods minutely, averting his face in the hope Isabelle won't see the tears glimmering in his eyes. Yes, he is in love, if he wants it or not. It's a love that will never see the light of day, however. But maybe the old saying is true. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Chapter Text

Magnus knew this was a bad idea. Even with the others around. He had to mostly ignore Alec all afternoon so as not to make a fool out of either of them. He doesn't understand the pull the other man has on him. They barely know each other. But it feels like more than just superficial attraction. For that, his treacherous heart is way too invested.

Alec has fired one arrow after another since he arrived. He looks like he's in a trance, his face set in concentration, his body moving smoothly and controlled. Okay, maybe Magnus did watch him out the corner of his eye. It's hard not to. Yes, the Shadowhunter ladies are incredible, too, not to mention Edom's archer who Magnus brought to impress. Who exactly, he isn't even sure. Or maybe he is.

Alec did talk with Meliorn and the others. It was mostly shop talk as far as Magnus could pick up on. But ever since he entered his firing lane, Alec hasn't taken his eyes off the target. How his country can be stupid enough not to let him compete is a complete mystery to Magnus. Alec is the best archer on the range today. He'd probably be in many international competitions, too.

“He's the best Idris has to offer. I strive to be as good as him one day,” a voice cuts through Magnus’ thoughts. He looks at Emma, the freshly returned Olympic athlete.

“So why does Idris only send its second best then?” he asks. Idris is a country set on success and has a bit of a superiority complex. He doesn't get it.

“It's… for medical reasons. I think,” she says. Magnus purses his lips and nods. At least she doesn't out him. But is that allyship or raison d'état?

“He looks like a healthy man to me,” he says, eyes unguarded on Alec for once. The marquis sacrificed everything for an ounce of happiness. He made a deal with the devil, so it seems.

“How come you're interested in archery?” Emma asks.

“Movies,” Magnus replies. He does love a good Robin Hood flick. Men in tights. What's not to like?

“Yeah, those are often inaccurate,” Emma states.

Magnus chuckles. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Emma smirks and starts a tirade about everything that Hollywood gets wrong about archery. Magnus follows her remarks only half-heartedly. She is an expert in her field, beautiful, athletic, confident and fierce. Those seem to be common traits of Shadowhunter women.

Why couldn't he fall for her? Or Isabelle? Not that the latter was interested in him personally. Simon clearly has conquered her already.

Magnus’ heart aches. He tells himself it's because even here in his element, Alec seems isolated, lonely, so utterly cut off from life. It's impressive how he carries himself anyway, how he trains as if someone's life might depend on it. A few generations ago, Alec would have invaded Edom and left bloodshed behind. Now, he's only hurting himself.

Magnus’ stomach lurches when he sees the tiny stream of red running over Alec's skin. Everyone else is wearing protection, but not Alec. He doesn't even seem to notice that he's hurt. The realisation makes Magnus nauseous.

“We could watch it. I saw it's in Edom cinemas, too.”

Magnus has no idea what Emma is talking about. A current movie, likely.

“We should rent a hall and watch it,” he says reflexively.

“Is that what a prince royal has to do to have a little fun? Renting whole venues?” Emma asks, arching an amused eyebrow.

“Only if it's not in my possession, darling,” he smirks.

“So, I should be honoured that you're going to such lengths, just to go out with me,” Emma says, smiling softly. He could resolve the misunderstanding, but Magnus isn't a monster. Emma wasn't on his short list, but she is nice and smart and sexy, much more his type than Lydia. He sighs inwardly.

“What was the title of the movie again?” he asks, forcing his focus solely on the woman before him. Emma beams at him. Is her enthusiasm real? Not that it would be important. His future wife doesn't need to love him. In fact, she shouldn't. Not romantically. Their date will show if they are compatible, if they can build a relationship based on mutual respect. He just hopes that the movie isn't a romance.

This feels so good. God, he missed this. The bow isn't a perfect fit, the build different to what Alec is used to. But that will only make the excuses easier if Izzy or Jace reprimand him later. Neither of them has bothered him for a while. They know how he gets when he's in the zone. Or maybe they've forgotten he is even here? They love to socialise. Different to Alec, they have a knack for it. People are drawn to them naturally. Most of his people have that talent, have natural charisma. It's just another part of his life where Alec is a disappointment, but well. It's better that way.

Alec glances over at the rest of the party. Magnus draws his eyes immediately. He's flirting with Emma. It figures. She'd be perfect, like pretty much every Idris woman. Alec bends the bow again, making sure that the string cuts properly into his flesh. He needs to get rid of the hollow feeling in his stomach that the sight of Magnus leaning into Emma left behind. Not even in his old form would Magnus choose him, so why is he jealous? Is he really that easy? A few kind words, a little bit of attention? Is that all it takes to untether him?

Alec lets the arrows fly until he runs out of them. He should do this more often. It's so much better than splitting the skin over his knuckles on the punching bag. More subtle, too. He just hates the pitiful looks of his old colleagues. Half of them avoid him anyway. And there is always a chance of running into his ex parabatai, of course.

“You're bleeding,” Magnus pulls him out of his trance. When did he walk over?

Alec brushes his hand over his shirt. “It's nothing.”

“I'm pretty sure that's not how it's supposed to be,” Magnus argues.

“I'm just not used to this bow,” Alec lies.

“We have protective gear in Edom, you know?” Magnus asks, unfazed.

“I'm used to training without.”

“Is that why…?” Magnus asks, brushing his fingers gently over the marks on Alec's wrist. Alec pulls his arm away, scanning the place for onlookers. Magnus has been tactile with everyone all evening, so no one will give a damn, but he can't help the kneejerk reaction, can't dwell on the first gentle touch he's received in ages.

“It's nothing,” Alec mumbles and walks away to stock up on arrows again. Unfortunately, Magnus is still in his lane when he returns with a full quiver.

“You are a single-focused man,” Magnus states, making room for him.

“I have to be,” Alec says and fires the first new arrow. He hits the bull's eye with ease.

“And what do you do for fun?”

“Fun?” Alec asks absentmindedly, never taking his eyes off the target.

“Yes. Fun. You don't like clubs. You don't seem to be the most social. My bet is on books, maybe music. Or are languages more a hobby than a necessity?”

Alec huffs and releases the next arrow. It should offend him that Magnus can look right through him. He probably thinks he's boring.

“At least I can impress people in one way,” Alec says. Magnus was when they talked about it. Alec is pretty sure of that.

“You are an impressive man, Alexander.”

Alec snorts a mirthless laugh. Clearly. And Magnus is a good liar.

They fall silent, and Alec settles in the familiar movements. He can't forget the man standing next to him, but his body's tension is for the sport, not for a stupid crush. Alec refuses to let Magnus have that power over him.

A weird sensation makes him stall nonetheless. “Did you just blow against me?” Alec asks, flabbergasted.

“Well, I thought I'd have a bout at channelling my inner Maid Marian,” Magnus smirks.

Alec snorts. “Well, I'm no Robin Hood. The movie is inaccurate anyway.”

“Do tell,” Magnus says, smiling. Alec won't bore him with details of the accuracy of technique or equipment. He's annoyed enough people with stuff like that.

“It'll take more than that for me to shoot awry,” Alec adds and pulls the string.

“Challenge accepted,” Magnus says, and before Alec can even think what that might mean, he feels lips on his cheek, surprisingly soft, making his knees go weak in an instant. The arrow lands somewhere on a bordering lane. Triumphant eyes meet his terrified gaze.

“You were marian-ed,” Magnus smirks.

Alec swallows hard. He knows this is all a game to the prince. Magnus has no idea what he's doing to him, does he?

Anger and sadness mix familiarly in Alec's stomach. He can't wait to leave this godforsaken country.

“I guess so,” Alec replies and puts the bow down. “I hope it brought you satisfaction, Your Royal Highness.”

Magnus’ face falls at the biting tone of Alec's voice.

“My apologies, Your Lordship. I didn't mean to offend.”

“It's alright, Sir. You can do whatever you please. Your country, your rules,” Alec says, brushing off the new blood seeping out of his fingers.

“Alexander…”

“I hope you enjoyed yourself,” Alec says and bows to the man who probably doesn't even know he's breaking his heart. He doesn't want to believe that Magnus is so cruel.

Alec turns before Magnus can reply. It's rude, even for him. But he has to flee, or Magnus might see all his secrets. Alec hasn't much to call his own. But this, this secret crush? This is only his.

He can still feel the burn of Magnus’ lips on his cheek when he reaches the palace. At least he won't go into marriage without being kissed before.

Chapter Text

Magnus rightens his jacket and raises his fist. He takes a deep breath before he knocks. He wets his lips as he waits, heart speeding up when he hears nearing footsteps on the other side of the door.

Alec's face is neutral as he opens the door. However, it slips when he sees it's Magnus, a wave of hurt and panic washing over it. It's only a second until he catches himself. It's still a dagger into Magnus’ heart. He did that. He hurt Alec in a moment of playful silliness.

“Your Royal Highness,” Alec says curtly.

Magnus suppresses a sigh. “Can I talk with you for a minute… Your Lordship.”

Alec works his jaw. Magnus expects him to decline, but much to his surprise, Alec turns and walks back into his room. Magnus closes the door behind him. He looks around the richly decorated room. He's never been in this part of the palace before. Well, save for that one time when an English princess… Let's say he didn't have much of an eye for the surroundings back then.

“I came to apologise,” Magnus declares to Alec's back.

“There's no need to. It was just a joke. No harm done,” Alec tells the oil painting of one of Magnus’ ancestors.

“Is that so? Because I think I hurt you, and that wasn't my intention, Alexander. You were so concentrated on the bull's eye all afternoon. I guess my competitive spirit was spurred on.”

“You like being the centre of attention,” Alec states, eyes fixed on the decanter lid he's fidgeting with.

“I am used to it. That doesn't mean it is what I always crave.”

“And still, you wanted to win my attention,” Alec says, glancing at him. The loss of his gaze a second later feels bigger than it should. Physical.

“You were the only one I wanted to look at me all afternoon,” Magus croaks. He shouldn't say that. He should have locked up that truth. But Alec is unsettling him. Mostly in good ways.

“Didn't seem like it. Emma…” Alec trails off.

“She's a wonderful person.”

“A great archer.”

“She doesn't come anywhere close to you,” Magnus says.

“She's training hard. She'll get there.”

“I wasn't talking about her archery skills,” Magnus says softly. Surprised eyes jump over to him, Alec's cheeks reddening a beautiful pink.

“Magnus,” Alec breathes. “Don't… I don't need your pity.”

“It's the truth.”

Alec looks away again. “I feel honoured, but…”

“But?” Magnus probes.

“I can't be one of your conquests. You will marry soon, and so will I.”

Magnus breathes a sigh.

Alec doesn't say anything for a long while. Magnus knows he's right. He doesn't even know why he came here. It's not that he owes Alec anything.

“I wanna thank you,” Alec finally says much to Magnus’ surprise.

“For what?”

“No one has ever kissed me before. I'm glad you were the first.”

Magnus’ heart tumbles to the floor, broken pieces scattered all over the expensive Persian carpet.

“Alexander,” he breathes. “That… that was a peck, not a kiss.”

Alec nods, eyes unfocussed as he bites his bottom lip. “You're right. I'm pathetic.”

“You're not,” Magnus says, his hand settling on the small of Alec's back. It's such an innocent touch but it sends a shiver through Alec, his body pressing into the contact as his eyes close. Magnus grips Alec's chin with gentle fingers, nudging him to turn his face.

“I can still be your first kiss, Alexander,” he whispers. “If you want me to be.”

Bambi eyes open up, vulnerable and wide.

“Why?” Alec asks under his breath.

“Because I've wanted to kiss you since the moment I first lay eyes on you.”

“Why would you want to kiss me?”

Magnus quirks a sad smile. “Because you are beautiful, Alexander. And your soul… it's even more breath-taking.”

Alec's lips quiver. They are so close, but Magnus doesn't want to hurt him again. If he says no, Magnus will leave and never bother him again.

Alec's eyebrows knit together. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I think you should know that you're the most magnificent man I've ever met.”

“Do you tell that to just anyone?” Alec croaks.

Magnus shakes his head slowly. It's the truth. Dammit! It's the truth.

“We can't be together,” Alec says quietly.

Magnus leans their foreheads together, Alec's ragged breath tickling his lips.

“I know,” he whispers, his broken heart crumbling into shards. “But we can have this. We're not promised to anyone yet.”

Alec's hands curl around Magnus' hips tentatively.

“Just one kiss,” Alec whispers into the tiny space between them. Magnus nods, their noses brushing against each other.

Their lips find each other in a gentle kiss. It tastes sweet, so much sweeter than all of Magnus’ past combined. One kiss becomes two, bodies pressing together in a dance of their own.

“Who are you?” Magnus breathes between kisses. Is Alec a wizard, putting a spell on him?

“Wrong question,” Alec croaks.

Magnus huffs a surprised laugh. “What is the right one?”

“What are you?”

Magnus regards him for a long moment. “So… what are you?” he asks, heart beating violently in his chest.

“I'm… utterly lost… adrift.”

“You feel more steadfast than anything in my life,” Magnus whispers.

Oh, isn't that the truth? Could his heart see that at first glance? That Alec could sweep him away and tether him down. That he'd have the potential to do so if they were not destined to marry women?

Alec cards his fingers into Magnus’ hair, pulling him into another kiss, this one bruising, desperate, tasting of the sea. Magnus lets him, his own tears mixing with Alec's. This was a mistake. He made it worse. So much worse. For both of them. But Alec kisses him, cradles his face as if Magnus were something precious, kisses him as if he'd savour him, looks at him as if he were filing every little detail to memory. Maybe he is. Maybe Magnus just wants to believe that someone could want him as much as he's wanted those he has loved.

“Let's be lost together,” he says despite himself.

“We can't,” Alec replies.

Magnus exhales slowly. “What if we can?”

Alec lets go of him, taking a step back. He looks at him for a long while with an unreadable gaze. Magnus doesn't think that anyone has ever looked at him like that, so intensly, as if he were a riddle to be solved, as if to peel him, layer by layer, until his core lays bare, unprotected and pure.

“Do you believe in karma?” Alec breaks the silence, voice void of emotions.

“The religious one or what the West made of it?”

Alec shrugs. “The latter, I guess.”

“I sure hope that everyone gets what they deserve. Why are you asking?”

Alec turns towards the window, eyes wandering over the park that is visible from this wing.

“Maybe my parents were right. Maybe I sold my soul to the devil, and this is the punishment.”

“How could you ever think that?” Magnus presses out.

“Well… if I hadn't transitioned…” Alec starts but trails off.

“Then we could get married,” Magnus ends his sentence.

“Easily… I just never thought I would find someone to love. Someone who might like me back.”

‘Like.’ Magnus is so far beyond liking him.

“Do you think you could have waited?” he asks.

“I'd probably not be here anymore,” Alec replies, looking at his hands. Magnus takes them into his own, thumb running over freshly closed wounds.

“I'm glad you are, Alexander. I'm so glad you are still here with us.”

Alec quirks a lopsided smile. “Right now, here, with you… I'm glad, too.”

Magnus nudges him closer, lips gracing Alec's temple. Time may be running out for them, but Magnus will make the most of it.

Chapter Text

The door falls closed with a quiet thud. Alec looks at it for a long minute. Was it just a dream? It can't be. He still feels his lips tingling.

He catches himself in the reflection of the wall mirror. He walks closer, studying his features. Has he changed? He feels changed, but save for the redness of his lips and the tender dust of pink on his cheeks he's still the same Alec from a few hours ago. No, that's not quite right. The tightness around his heart is gone, the ache of longing. He gets it now. Isabelle always said that kissing lets you forget everything and had gushed over the boys who had made her silly with want.

Alec breathes a sigh and looks at the reflection of his immaculately made bed, painfully untouched. After everything he's heard about the prince royal, he had expected their kiss to end there, not in a squeeze of a hand, doe eyes, and a quiet good night.

And there it is again, the vice around his heart. Maybe Magnus just wanted to give him something nice to remember, their kisses a deed steeped in pity. Or maybe kissing a trans person was still on Magnus’ pre-nuptial bucket list.

But it felt so good, so real. There's no future for them, however. Magnus didn't even pretend there was. Save for that single moment.

“What if we can?” Not ‘could’. Can.

No, that's a silly idea. Alec's country has hidden him since his coming out, his family's plan to make a diplomat out of him only unchanged because his past athletic triumphs would be long forgotten when he eventually enters the diplomatic service. And there would always be the option to say it was his sister who won medals left and right in the unlikely event of him running into an archery lover on the international stage.

Would Magnus even consider marrying someone like him? What is his type anyway?

Alec falls onto the bed and grabs his phone. He knows he shouldn't nurture hope or let curiosity get the better of him. Usually, he's a pretty cool-headed person, uncaring about the love life of others or other kinds of gossip. He knows from personal experience how harmful even small bits of it can be. The foreign yellow press had run a few pieces about him, speculating about the kinds of surgery he had. Well that was before Idris sued the hell out of them, forcing them to delete every single article and pay quite a bit of money to compensate for the humiliation—to the crown, not him, of course.

What he finds confirms his worst thoughts. Magnus has quite a reputation, his sexcapades a popular theme of the reporting on him. Save for the time he had a relationship with a woman called Camille. She was rumoured to be the future queen. Her brilliant smile might haunt Alec for the rest of his life. She's so petite, slim, with a great taste in fashion and make-up. Magnus looks so happy in the official photos with her by his side, their beauty a perfect match. Their break-up two years ago rattled the nation, gave room to a lot of speculation—everything from her having been unfaithful to her not being able to produce an heir.

Alec deletes his browser history and switches to his message app. He finds texts from his siblings, filled with worry due to his sudden disappearance. He tells them that he left the shooting range because he wasn't feeling well. It's a white lie. He tells them he's going to bed early, just in case. He couldn't stomach their attention right now.

[Izzy] Did you eat something?

Alec rolls his eyes and types a lie. He hasn't eaten since their dinner with the king. At least one upside of this whole mess is that he isn't so much under the scrutiny of his little sister.

She doesn't get it. The need to control at least this small part of his life. The hunger is grounding just like the burn in his fingers. But this is the safer choice. Not eating doesn't leave him with outward marks. Besides, his mother always drilled home how important a lean figure was. Only to him and Isabelle, of course, but his shoulders do look broader when he doesn't carry extra fat around his middle.

He's hungry, though. So he takes a bottle with sparkling water out of the mini bar and opens his Internet browser again, this time to indulge in recipe sites. He plans the order of courses for his upcoming birthday dinner. He imagines it in the tiniest of details until his eyelids grow heavy and he falls asleep, fully clothed, on top of the bedcover. It's better than mourning a love that can never be, for sure.

“You haven't packed another suit?” Maryse hisses.

Alec suppresses a yawn. He's an early riser but he didn't expect his mother to go through his wardrobe at 6.15 in the morning.

“I only own one suit, Mom. Plus the dress uniform and my tailcoat. I didn't expect to need clothes for three dinners with the king.”

“Neither did I,” Maryse sighs. “But one should always be prepared for the unexpected, Alec,” she scolds him. “I must say, though, it is a little exciting. Rumour has it only the families on the short list are invited tomorrow. Apparently, the prince has a few more dates throughout the day to find his other half. The king might announce their choice tomorrow. I hope your sister made a good impression yesterday.”

Alec hears the unspoken question. “She was perfect, Mom.”

Maryse huffs a nervous laugh. “I hope so. I regret not raising her with the same strong hand as I raised you. She can be a bit of a loose weapon sometimes.”

Alec swallows hard. He's glad Maryse didn't raise them the same. Isabelle had more freedom than Alec ever had. She had a life, a childhood. Not an easy one. She's a Lightwood, after all. But their mother was more forgiving with her second born than with Alec.

“I could shop for another shirt,” he deflects. He hates shopping, but his mother is right. He will represent the family. Everything needs to be perfect.

Maryse sighs. “I fear you have to. Jace's shirts are too big for you.”

Alec nods. He's lucky enough to be tall, but he hasn't fully grown into himself yet. Slim fits are good on him but even those need tweaking sometimes.

“Take Jace with you. He has better taste than you,” Maryse says and gives him her credit card.

“It's just a dress shirt,” Alec protests.

“But you have no idea how men's clothes work. I don't want you to bring shame on the family.”

“Of course not, Ma'am,” Alec says, gnashing his teeth. He thought he would spend the morning with more pleasurable things. But well. Family duties never end. The shooting range has to wait. At least he doesn't need to have breakfast with his mother and sister, listening to the not so unlikely prospect of having the man who kissed him so gently last night being his brother-in-law soon. Thank God for little mercies.

Chapter Text

“This is perfect on a hot day like this.” Magnus lets out a sigh of contentment. It's gonna be a long day: breakfast with Lydia, a midday screening with Emma, and afternoon tea with Aline. At least he has the morning with people he actually wants to be around. Although, that's not fair. All those ladies are perfectly lovely, and under any other circumstances, Magnus would enjoy their company immensely. But the pressure in his chest is rising. It feels like he's slowly suffocating. He knows he's just being dramatic. From the day he and Camille broke up, it has been clear that this was waiting for him, no matter how well he managed to repress every thought around it. Compartmentalisation is such an interesting thing, isn't it? Only now, it is truly sinking in. He'll marry a complete stranger, one he has to learn to find attractive instead of following his heart.

“You look amazing, Uncle Magnus!” Madzie cheers. Magnus smiles at his god-daughter.

“Why thank you, sweet pea. You look lovely as well. I wish I could take you out today.”

Catarina snorts a laugh and takes a sip from her champagne glass. She's jetlagged, still in a timezone where it most definitely is past five pm. Not that Magnus would blame her either way. It's happy hour somewhere, right? He'd like to crack the bubbly open, too, but he had one whisky too many before bed. It's a bad, if not regular habit. But how else would he have found sleep last night?

“You'll do just fine with your company today,” Catarina says a little more soberly.

“I know, Catarina. It's just… very real, all of a sudden,” Magnus says. “Tell me what you two are up to today. Take my mind off things.”

“We're going to the lake. Momma promised to practise swimming with me.”

“Oh, it's the perfect day for that. But I imagine many of our people and guests will have the same idea. I'll tell Raphael to make sure you can attend the Royal Beach.”

“That's not necessary, Magnus,” Catarina protests. She doesn't like taking advantage of their friendship. It's why they've been friends for so long. She loves him for him, something that doesn't hold true for far too many people around him.

“Oh, I insist, my dearest.”

“Can you come with us?” Madzie asks.

“Sadly not. But I'm sure the weather will hold for another week. When the Shadowhunters have left, I'll make up for it.”

“Can we have those ice cream cones again?”

“Madzie,” Catarina scolds her gently. Magnus smiles and bends down to Madzies's ear.

“With cream and sprinkles,” he whispers. Madzie shouts with glee, much to her mother's amusement.

“Is everything to your liking, Your Royal Highness?” the tailor asks.

“I love the style,” Magnus replies. “Could I have this in a light grey tone as well?”

“But, of course. One can never have enough summer suits, Sir,” the tailor says.

The bell at the entrance of the shop rings, and he excuses himself. Magnus uses the time to go through the fabric samples. He'll have to choose his wedding suit soon. Something classy, timeless. His mind wanders of its own accord, ideas popping up in his head. Alec would look so good in a tux. But he won't be present unless Magnus marries Isabelle. Which he hasn't fully ruled out yet. But the temptation to break the sanctity of his marriage might be too big if he had Alec close. Especially after last night. He doesn't know what got into him. The devil, most likely.

Their kisses were so innocent compared to many firsts Magnus has had, but they were different, earthshaking in a way Magnus can't fully fathom. He still doesn't know how he managed to leave with both their dignities intact. He wanted to stay, wanted to explore that thing between them, find answers to the intensity such a short relationship shouldn't be capable of creating. But it would have been for naught. His father expects his decision come morning.

“We'll need a flower girl dress for Madzie,” he mumbles. He's imagined her in that role since the day she entered his life. He never pictured himself standing at the altar, not waiting for the love of his life to walk down the aisle, though.

Catarina seems to sense his sadness as her warm hand lands gently on his shoulder.

“I'm going to take a nap this afternoon. We can meet up tonight and talk,” she offers.

Magnus lets out a ragged breath. “You will be exhausted, my dear.”

“You know me. I fair better jumping right back to Edom time.”

Magnus quirks a smile and squeezes her hand. “What would I do without you?”

“You'd go to Dorothea and talk it out with her,” she smirks.

“Oh, you,” Magnus chuckles. Catarina always knows the right thing to say. He loves Ragnor, but when it comes to matters of the heart, he's not the right discussion partner. He'll set his head straight, however, if need be. Which Magnus hopes he won't need. He can be a rational person, and nothing about his current situation is a matter of the heart. He stumbled over it, but he hasn't fallen. Not yet.

“Can I have one of the chocolates?” Madzie asks.

“I fear those truffles have alcohol,” Catarina says.

Magnus smiles to himself and conjures up Madzie's favourite chocolate bar from his jacket. “Here, sweet pea. Enjoy.”

“Thank you, Uncle Magnus. You're the best!” Madzie chirps.

“Those were the times when jetting around the world didn't take me out for a whole day,” Magnus quips.

“Kids. They can sleep everywhere.” Catarina chuckles. Magnus nods and watches the little girl swirl around, her new dress – a belated birthday present – swinging in the air. The sight makes his heart ache in new ways. Next year, he could be the father of a little girl, too. What would she look like? That depends on which bride he'll choose, of course. God, this is terrible. And all because he is his father's son. The country will always come before his personal needs.

“I am sorry, Your Lordship, but my duty lies with the royal family this morning,” the tailor's voice carries over from the front.

“It's just a shirt, sir,” a familiar voice replies. Magnus freezes. What are the odds of running into Jace at this ungodly time of day?

“I do understand, Sir, but…”

“He's having dinner with the king. He has to look presentable. Anything else would be an insult to the royal family.”

“If the man says he's occupied, we should leave him to his work,” Alec says. Just the sound of his voice makes Magnus’ heart beat a little faster.

Magnus looks at Catarina in a slight panic.

“What?” she whispers.

“It's him. It's Alec.”

“First or latter?”

“Latter. Oh my god,” he mutters.

“It was just a dance, Magnus.”

He looks at her, his eyes surely betraying him as her face slips for a second. “What have you done?” she asks under her breath.

“I told you this man makes me do stupid things.”

“What. Have. You. Done?”

“I kissed him. Last night. I went to his room to apologise for a silly thing I did, and then… it just happened. He… he has put a spell on me or something. I can't explain it, Catarina. I haven't felt like this for anyone in a very long time.”

Catarina nods, her eyes filled with understanding and sorrow.

“You need to break this up with him. Properly. Or both of you will suffer.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. He knows she's right. But the tailor shop isn't the right place, much less with Alec's brother around. He doesn't want to put Alec in a pickle.

He grabs the tailor's memo pad and writes two quick notes.

“Madzie, can you do me a favour?” he asks as he's folding them.

“Sure, Uncle Magnus.”

“Okay,” Magnus says. “There is a dark-haired man in the front of the shop. Can you give him this note and tell him to open it when he's alone? And the one with the scissors is for the tailor.”

Madzie looks at him with big eyes. “Are you his secret admirer?”

Magnus gapes at her. Catarina muffles a laugh with her hand. Traitor!

“Don't tell him who this is coming from, okay?”

“Okay,” Madzie says and runs to the front.

He spies through the curtains. He can't help it. Magnus might die on the spot from the mess of emotions crashing through him. He knows this is going to be goodbye.

Alec squats down in front of Madzie when she addresses him. He smiles at her despite the confusion knitting his brow together. He's surely good with kids.

“What is your name, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Madzie.”

“That's a beautiful name,” Alec replies. “You said you have a message for me?”

“Yes!”

“From whom?”

“It's a secret,” Madzie stage-whispers. “You can only open it with no one around. And this is for you,” Madzie adds, giving the other note to the tailor. Magnus prays she didn't mix them up. But no. She's a smart kid.

Magnus lets the curtains fall closed, tears pricking his eyes as he walks to the tailor's drink cart.

“Looks like I do have time for a quick shirt session,” he hears the man's muffled voice from the front.

“You're doing the right thing,” Catarina says and squeezes Magnus’ arm.

“Why does it feel so wrong then?”

Catarina doesn't reply but she pulls him into a tight hug. Magnus allows himself to sink into it until the curtains move again. He brushes away the stray tear that managed to break free.

“Well done, sweet pea,” he welcomes Madzie.

“He looks nice,” she says.

“He is,” Magnus croaks. He just hopes he won't break Alec's heart.

Chapter Text

Alec nods at the security guard as she hands him back his ID.

“Follow the path left of the palm tree. You can't miss it,” the woman says and resumes her post. Alec takes a deep breath and pushes his passport into the pocket of his jeans. He wasn't quite sure how to dress for the occasion, not knowing what the occasion actually was. But the new dress shirt wasn't an option, and if this was something official, Magnus surely wouldn't have wanted him to come alone.

He shouldn't have come anyway. He reasoned with himself all day. Was this a date? A casual get together with other people at the beach? Curiosity took the better of him. How bad could it be? But walking down the path, dusk dipping everything in hues of yellow and purple, his chest is growing tighter with every step he takes. This place feels intimate with torches stuck in the sand guiding his path. Or threatening. Alec's alarm bells are quiet however. Different to his beating heart. It clenches in his chest when he finds Magnus lying on a picnic blanket, gazing into the sky.

Alec takes a moment to marvel at him. This man is beautiful, even more beautiful than in all his brilliant clothing choices Alec saw him in over the past few days. He looks soft somehow, his hair still styled from the day. But the tunic and casual pants he's wearing make him look out of place and right at home at the same time.

Alec clears his throat to get rid of the weird feeling tightening his chest. It pulls Magnus’ attention to him.

“Good evening, Alexander,” he says, only his head turning in Alec's direction.

“You wanted to see me?” Alec asks. Magnus taps the empty spot next to him, returning his gaze back to the sky.

“This is my favourite spot in the whole kingdom,” Magnus says, seemingly unfazed by Alec's hesitation to follow his wordless invitation.

“Why's that?”

“My mom used to take me here a lot. I learnt swimming over there,” Magnus replies, pointing towards the fast-growing darkness. “That island over there is artificial. My father ordered it to be built when the public started questioning why he never came with us.”

“He's a busy king. Wasn't that reason enough?”

“I know what your folklore has to say about my people. But we are very family oriented, no matter if we are joined by blood or water.”

Alec hums. He remembers the ghastly fairy tales of his childhood, painting the barely disguised Edom people as monstrous “Downworlders”, blood hungry, wheelers of black magic and sacrificing their own children.

“Why didn't your father join you then?” Alec asks.

Magnus huffs a mirthless laugh. “Because I hated how he treated my mother. I hated him for making her cry so often. No four year old should have to comfort their parent.”

Alec's heart aches for little Magnus. He really shouldn't have had to experience that.

Alec sits down on the edge of the picnic blanket. Magnus gets up to settle next to him. “My apologies if this was too personal,” he says.

“No… no. I just… it reminds me of myself. I don't remember how old I was…” Alec trails off. His father's long-time affair is an open secret. It's why he isn't here. The queen hates cheaters.

“Why was your mother sad?” he asks, hoping not to cross a line.

“My father and the history books claim that he was madly in love with her, that her death left him heart-broken. The ‘madly’ part is probably right. But he wanted to possess her. That's not love. It's the opposite.”

“I suppose it is,” Alec agrees.

“But I didn't invite you to share my family's dirty secrets,” Magnus says and fishes a champagne bottle from a cooler. He fills two glasses and offers one to Alec. Alec doesn't dare ask why he invited him to come. This is too nice. He can smell Magnus from this up close, sandalwood tickling his nose. It smells like home. Not Alicante. Not his family. It doesn't even make sense.

“I find it funny,” Alec muses, looking out over the stretch of water.

“What?”

“That your country also has a Lake Lyn.”

Magnus chuckles. “It's spelled the same, but we pronounce it Leen.”

“Oh,” Alec says, feeling stupid.

“Yeah. And ours isn't as deadly as yours.” Magnus sounds teasing.

“Fitting my people, huh?” Alec says, downing his glass, which only heightens the heat in his cheeks.

“Nary a nation in the world hasn't done terrible things, Alexander. My people started unprovoked wars, too. Let's drink to a more peaceful future,” Magnus says and refills Alec's glass.

“Hear, hear.”

“Are the rumours true, though. Does Lake Lyn deserve its legendary name?”

“The Mortal Mirror?” Alec guesses. Magnus hums in affirmation.

“When I was little, my parents warned me that by touching the lake, a big monster would appear and pull me to the bottom, never returning me home again. It's just an old Shadowhunters’ tale. The lake is dangerous as the ground falls steeply, and if you can't swim, it seals your mortal fate. But it has nicer names, too, like Mirror of Dreams.”

“I see. I hope those aren't nightmares.”

“No.” Alec chuckles. “It's quite beautiful, actually. You should come visit it sometime.”

Alec doesn't know why he said that. Even if Magnus should choose Isabelle, he might have no desire to ever enter the country for more than a state visit.

“With the right local guide…” Magnus says.

“Izzy knows the country like the back of her hand,” Alec manages more steadily than he thought he would. Magnus hums in acknowledgement. They fall quiet for a while, the stars twinkling above them.

“Our countries are so different, and yet, we're under the same sky,” Alec murmurs. “To think that just a generation ago, we would have been at each other's throats, not sitting peacefully on your private beach.”

Magnus hums. “Enmity is a curious thing,” he muses. “Just like love.”

Alec lets out a ragged breath. Did Magnus ask him here to tell him that he's come to a decision? Alec isn't sure if he should hope for Magnus to choose Isabelle. He'd grin and bear it, just like with most things life threw at him in the past. His sister could do worse. Queen Isabelle. Maryse would burst with pride.

Alec expects Magnus to elaborate but the prince gets up without another word. He walks to the wooden boardwalk and pulls his tunic over his head.

“Do Shadowhunters skinny-dip?” he asks.

“Others… probably.”

“You never did?”

Alec shakes his head. “Swimming was always pretty dysphoria inducing.”

Magnus parts his lips as he stares at him for a long moment. Did he forget?

“Right,” he says, watching out over the moon-kissed lake. He's perfect. Alec's body aches with want and envy. He can distinguish the two now.

“It's never too late,” Magnus says, and even before Alec can process those words, Magnus’ pants hit the ground, and he dives into the lake, butt-naked. Alec jumps to his feet, waiting for a breathlessly long moment for Magnus to come up again. He does, a good twenty metres away.

“Come!” he calls over. “There are no lake monsters, and you can stand the whole way over to the island.

“I don't know. What if somebody sees us?”

“No one will. I'll turn around if you want me to.” Magnus sounds teasing but there's also warmth and understanding laced into his voice. Alec worries his bottom lip. This is dangerous territory. He knows it is. But a cool water dip on a hot August night sounds like heaven. Just like the chuckle that travels across the water before Magnus turns away.

Alec admires the silver moonlight catching on the water droplets on Magnus’ shoulders before he pulls his shirt over his head and kicks off his shoes. Is this brave or foolish? Alec can’t decide, but his body moves nonetheless. Alec folds his clothes, hesitating when his thumbs pull at the waistband of his underwear. He glances over to Magnus who is still facing away from him.

The boardwalk looks daunting somehow, but Maryse Lightwood didn't raise a coward, so Alec does quick work of his briefs and dives into the surprisingly cold lake. He gasps when his head breaches the surface, Magnus’ warm chuckle welcoming him.

“Refreshed, pretty boy?”

Alec snorts a laugh. “That's a first.”

“What do you mean?” Magnus asks, swimming closer.

“‘Pretty disappointing.’ ‘Pretty close but not good enough.’ ‘Too pretty to destroy my looks with testo.’” Alec cuts himself off.

“Well, you are a boy. A man really. And you are objectively very handsome.”

“That's a first, too, save from my sister,” Alec says, wishing he had something to occupy his itching fingers with.

Magnus shakes his head, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. He breathes a sigh. “Your world is toxic and oblivious of the incredible person you are, Alexander. How have you survived on so little?”

Alec shrugs. “That's our culture. Silence is praise enough.” It's only one side of the truth, of course. Maryse could have treated him differently. But it's too dangerous to rattle on the foundations of his life; she is everything he has. Max and their father live on the other side of the world. Jace will soon have a family of his own. Isabelle maybe, too. Alec knows he needs to build a life of his own, but until he can…

“I met many of your people, Alexander, and while I got the impression that most of you are soldiers at heart, there was still fun to be had with some of them.”

“I'm not much fun, I suppose.”

“I didn't say that. This is our first date, and I already got you naked.” Magnus laughs.

“Date?” Alec croaks.

Magnus bites his bottom lip. He probably didn't mean to blurt that out.

“Well, a date… between friends.”

Alec snorts a laugh. “What are we doing here, Magnus?”

The prince shrugs. “Why did you come?” he replies with a question.

“I dunno. I guess I was curious.”

“Because I'm the prince or because I'm Magnus?”

Alec swallows hard. He doesn't give a damn that Magnus is the future king.

“Did Magnus kiss me last night or the prince royal?”

Magnus quirks a smile. “The prince royal belongs to the people. The man who kissed you, he's…” Magnus stalls, searching Alec's eyes.

“What?” Alec pushes gently.

“All yours.”

Alec nods, heart aching and rejoicing all at once. Tonight is all they're going to have, so he throws all caution to the wind. His body covered by water, he pulls Magnus close. He looks ethereal in the moonlight, his skin covered in goosebumps as their chests collide.

“That okay?” Magnus asks as he curls his fingers around Alec's waist.

“It's terrifying,” Alec replies honestly. However, he doesn't let go of Magnus, not even when Magnus tries to give him space. “I want this,” Alec croaks. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Magnus breathes. It's a lie. Alec knows that. But he swallows it anyway. For once, he wants to believe that he deserves good things. He can nurse his broken heart when he's back in Idris.

Chapter Text

“It's terrifying,” Alec replies. “I want this. I want you.”

“You have me,” Magnus breathes. It's the truth, he realises, not without panic. This went so differently than he had planned. So much for ending this on a high note. But maybe, not everything is lost. Maybe they'll part like him and that English princess. They had made out until midnight and parted with a kiss. He sees her now and then. She married into the Spanish royal family.

Alec presses in again, his hands cradling Magnus’ face. “Where do we take this?” he asks, his eyes nervous yet hopeful.

“Take?” Magnus asks.

“Your place? My room? A hotel?”

Magnus blinks at him. Oh.

“Alexander, I won't sleep with you,” he says, running his hands up and down Alec's sides.

“But I thought…” Alec trails off before he takes a step back. “Just a minute ago, you said… God, this is embarrassing.” He turns, swimming back with rapid strokes to the beach. When Magnus catches up with him, he's already dressed, lacing up his shoes. Magnus quickly slips into his pants. This isn't a conversation to be had fully naked.

“Your first time should be with someone special,” he tries to explain. “Someone you can wake up in the morning with, and the next morning, and the morning after that. I lost my virginity to a one-night stand who didn't even stay till sunrise. I won't do that to you.”

“So you rather let me die a virgin,” Alec hisses, shoving him to the side on his way back to the path he emerged from.

“You won't die a virgin. You'll find your other half. One day, you'll be out of reach for your parents, and you'll start your own life,” Magnus says, nausea swirling through his stomach. Why is he messing this up? He always prided himself on being sensible.

“Like you?” Alec bites.

“That's different.”

“How? My parents will force me to marry over the next year or two. A widow likely, one with kids if possible. That way, people might forget that I'm not a real man.”

Magnus grabs Alec's arm. “Don't run away, Alexander. We can figure this out.”

“How? You were my one shot. But I get it. It's not too late for you to drive to one of your clubs and pick up someone who you don't see as a delicate flower.”

“That's not what I meant. I don't wanna hurt you. With your dysphoria and inexperience… Besides, you're not the only one that feels vulnerable.”

Alec gapes at him for a painfully long moment. What Magnus would give to know what's going on in his mind.

Alec nods, lips pulled tight.

“I'm sorry that I wasted one of your last nights of freedom, Your Royal Highness,” he says. Magnus feels like he's about to be sick.

“Alexander,” he breathes. “I wouldn't want to spend it with anybody else. I just… Can't we go back to staring into the night sky and exchanging family secrets?”

Alec closes his eyes. “Magnus… I can't. This hurts too much. I always knew that I couldn't have this. It was my fault for thinking that a magnificent man such as yourself would want me, if even just for one night. I hope you find happiness with whoever you choose. I truly do. I, for my part, must hope that all the legends about the Cup of Union are true. Maybe they are. There are no gay Shadowhunters, after all.” And with that, Alec walks away, leaving behind a tear in the fabric of Magnus’ soul. There goes the potential love of his life. And Magnus? He doesn't dare stop him. He's done enough damage already.

He takes his time, towelling himself dry and getting fully dressed. He sits down on the picnic blanket again. They didn't even get to try the food.

“Everything okay, Your Royal Highness?” the security guard asks.

“I'm good, Helen. Has he left?”

“He has. He was pretty drenched.”

“We went for a swim,” Magnus says.

“Anything I should know about?”

“He's no danger to me. Not physically.”

“I understand, Sir. I'll leave you alone, unless I can help you with anything?”

“You grew up in Idris, right?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Cup of Union?”

Helen chuckles. “The love potion thing?”

Magnus frowns. “Maybe.”

“It's a long tradition steeped in legend. Shadowhunters believe that the Angels are involved in the matchmaking process. So, when a Shadowhunter decides to marry, they appear in front of the monarch and ask permission to proceed with their proposal plans. If the monarch finds them fit for marriage, they give the Shadowhunter a silver cup filled with… spiced wine I think. I'd have to ask my father. Legend has it that no proposal was ever declined as the monarch would only allow respectable subjects to marry. People think their blessing turns the wine into a love potion, making the proposed-to person fall in love with the proposer.”

“People truly believe that?” Magnus asks.

“I think they want to believe it. How heartbreaking would it be having to marry someone you don't love? That's why I decided to live here with my mother's people, so that I would be able to marry whoever I want.”

Magnus nods in understanding. “Who is the lucky one?”

“I haven't met her yet. But I will. And we will live a happy life in Edom. I just wish all my queer siblings had that privilege.”

“Yes indeed.”

“I know it's not my place, Sir, but I hope that your marriage will have a positive effect on Idris. Queer people have basically no rights there.”

“I will see what I can do,” Magnus promises. He will, for Alec. Maybe it isn't too late for him to find happiness.

“What happened to you?” Jace asks. Alec breathes a quiet sigh.

So close.

“I took a stroll, couldn't resist the lake,” he lies. “Forgot I didn't have a towel.”

Jace laughs out loud. “Did you try to impress someone?”

“Maybe I did,” Alec murmurs and pushes his door open. Jace follows him. His brother never had qualms about privacy. Alec ignores his presence and strips out of his wet clothes. Just a few years ago, that would have been unthinkable. But they're just brothers now. Jace still gets squeamish sometimes when Alec mentions anything around his transition, but the sight of his top surgery scars doesn't faze Jace anymore.

Alec puts on his PJs, hoping to get the message across, but Jace either misses the broad hint or decides to ignore it.

“Who is she?” he asks, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Alec should have said no to his earlier question.

“That's not of your concern,” Alec replies.

“A Shadowhunter or someone from Edom? Come on, give me at least something.”

Alec sighs in defeat. “Edom.”

“One of those faeries?”

Alec chuckles. He knows his brother means an ethnic group of Edom, living in close touch with nature, a people of great beauty. Jace hooked up with one of them for a while when he travelled after his military service. Alec remembers way too many details about that member of Jace's “book club”.

“Yes,” he replies just to give Jace something to feed on.

“Oh, you should ask her out. They are animals in the sack.”

Alec rolls his eyes. He doesn't want to think about the rejection he received earlier. Magnus was probably right to refuse him, but Alec was so ready for it. Seeing Magnus so composed… Anger is such an easy emotion, it can bury anything underneath. It's better than being numb, Alec reckons. It's destructive however.

But it doesn't matter that he's hurt underneath that anger. Nothing material has changed since Alec arrived here. Why does it feel as if he's lost something then?

“I could be your wingman,” Jace offers. “Who knows? Maybe the prince will choose Izzy. Would be just fair to get one in return.”

“Women aren't goods to exchange, Jace.”

His brother sighs. “You're no fun, Alec. All I mean is, it's not good for you to be on your own. Live a little. What is holding you back?”

“It's not as easy when you're trans,” Alec deflects. It's part of it, of course, but not really. Alec doesn't know if he would have freaked out in the middle of sex. All he knows is that he felt safe enough with Magnus to risk it. And now, it will never happen for him. Maybe it's for the better. You can't miss what you never had.

Chapter Text

Magnus looks across the room. The Lightwoods are seated in the last third of the long dinner table, but the one he's looking for is conspicuously missing. Not that Magnus would blame him.

“Are you alright?” Catarina asks quietly into his ear.

“He's not here,” he replies.

Catarina squeezes his arm in sympathy. “You did the right thing.”

She doesn't know how much he messed this up. How bad it must be when Alec isn't here to fulfil his duty of standing in for his absent father. Would he have come if he knew that Magnus won't be announcing who he wants to marry tonight?

It's a hard-won compromise. His father, of course, thinks it's silly for Magnus to “bow in front of a foreign superstition”, but Magnus knows the power of rituals and tradition. Idris especially thinks them important. And the queen showed herself impressed when he asked her to involve the Cup of Union in the making of this peace-confirming marriage. What Magnus didn't anticipate was that not just any artisan silver cup would do it. No. There's only one true Union Cup, passed on for centuries from generation to generation, allegedly created and gifted to the people of Idris by the Angel Raziel himself. So, involuntarily, Magnus had bought himself another day of freedom, as Alec had put it so bluntly back at the lake. Another day to decide who to marry. Hopefully, with Catarina by his side, he will come to the right decision.

He knows he should have sent a servant, but when he heard that Alec had fallen sick – not as badly so as to send his personal physician though – Magnus couldn't help it. Well, he has a good reason, at least. The box in his hands looks unsuspicious enough, no matter who will open the door. That he returned all the way from his private palace to his father's castle might look dubious but, well. He's the prince royal. He's allowed to act a little odd.

“Magnus,” Isabelle greets him, wincing immediately. She curtseys. “My apologies, Your Royal Highness.”

“No need for formalities, dear Isabelle. I just wanted to check on Alec. How is he?”

“He's—”

“Let him enter,” Alec's voice comes from inside.

Isabelle steps to the side, a sad smile on her lips. “I'll leave you two alone. Text me when you want me to come over, Alec.” She nods towards Magnus before she pulls the door closed behind herself.

Magnus wasn't sure what to expect but Alec in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie wasn't it. Not that he'd complain. Alec looks kinda cosy.

“How are you?” Magnus asks, eyes drawn to the way Alec pulls his sleeves over his hands, fingertips barely visible. That's not the man he's been allowed to witness over the past few days. It explains why his mother let him stay away from the banquet however.

“What does it matter?” Alec asks, not even looking up from where he is sitting on the sofa, a barely touched charcuterie board on the coffee table in front of him. It pains Magnus not to see his beautiful eyes.

“You matter, Alexander.” It sounds like an empty phrase to Magnus’ own ears even though he means it from the heart.

“Why do you even care?” Alec asks, defensive. He's trying to protect his heart, Magnus guesses.

“Because I care about you.”

“Why would you?” Alec asks. Magnus breathes a sigh. He sits down on the other side of the sofa and puts the box on the coffee table. He can see that Alec squints at it, but he doesn't say anything.

“You want the truth?” Magnus asks.

“I'm all for brutal honesty,” Alec replies, his voice softer now, losing its edge.

“I think I… Love is too big of a word, and it wouldn't be fair to label it as such but… I made a pro and contra list with the help of my best friend. With all those amazing, brilliant women open to marriage, it was bound to be a tough task, but…”

“But?” Alec croaks.

“But the cons all circled back to you.”

“To me?”

“Yes, you. Isabelle is obviously your sister. Emma is an archer just like you. Aline said that your mother and her parents are old friends and neighbours.”

“And Lydia?” Alec all but breathes.

“She fits your profile. No kids, granted, but you seemed to like each other.”

“You wouldn't choose her because I might marry her?”

Magnus shrugs. Alec gives him an impish smile that elicits butterflies in Magnus’ stomach. Not calling it love, his royal arse. Who is he even kidding?

“I'm sorry that I'm making things hard,” Alec says, his smile a little subdued now. “I'm sure it's just a fluke. Or a queasy conscience. It's okay, Magnus.”

“I'm not okay… because you're not okay.”

Alec inhales deeply, his breath getting stuck in his chest. Magnus hates that he hit the nail on its head. He cups Alec's cheek and lets out a long exhale. Alec gets the hint, his breath coming out raggedly.

“You're hurting,” Magnus says matter-of-factly. Alec covers Magnus’ hand with his own, pressing into the touch. Magnus swallows the sound of distress threatening to leave his mouth. He doesn't comment on the state of Alec's knuckles. Usually, Magnus loves to be right, but this is no moment for triumph. Alec needs him as much as he needs Alec.

“Do you want to hear something funny,” Magnus says as airily as he musters. Alec opens his eyes, his cautious smile back on display.

“What?”

“My servants found a dick when they cleaned up the beach.”

Alec's eyes grow comically wide, cheeks the most precious pink Magnus has ever seen in his entire life.

“Any idea who might have lost it?” he gently teases.

Alec groans and buries his face in Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus dwells in their closeness for a long moment before he hears the quiet chuckle vibrating into his skin.

“I swear, that packer is cursed,” Alec says.

“Cursed?”

Alec pulls back, laughter tears standing in his eyes. “I've lost it so many times. It's embarrassing, really.”

“What was the oddest place you ever lost it?” Magnus asks.

“Apart from a royal beach?”

“Hm.”

Alec chuckles. “My aunt's bathroom is definitely in the top three, together with the time it fell out of my trouser leg in the middle of a dinner at Jace's in-laws.”

“Did anyone see it?”

“Fortunately not, but I had to put it into my pocket and that's… not low profile, I can tell you that.”

Magnus lets out a loud laugh. “Sounds quite cursed to me. You're right.”

“I'm sorry. My mother doesn't let me buy packer briefs,” Alec explains, rolling his eyes. “And I was a headless chicken after you…” Alec cuts himself off, pursing his lips.

“Made a complete shitshow of a beautiful moment,” Magnus ends his sentence.

“You just said what you felt. That's alright.”

“It's not. I did the sensible thing. Doesn't mean it was what I wanted. I just…” Magnus breathes a sigh. “I can't stomach the thought of hurting you with something that should be beautiful, you know?”

“I'm used to being hurt by the people I love,” Alec says. Magnus’ heart stumbles in his chest. He brushes his thumb over Alec's lips, tugs gently until Alec releases it from his grinding teeth.

“I don't wanna hurt you. The thought that others do is killing me. You're so strong, Alexander. You leave me in constant awe.”

Alec shrugs, the movement by now so familiar to Magnus it makes his heart ache even more. He wants Alec to be loved and cherished, to feel it in his bones that he is right and desirable just the way he is. But how?

“It's nothing,” Alec says. He's probably convinced of it.

“How do I make you believe, huh?” Magnus asks. He fears Alec's eyes hold the answer. Alec would never speak it out loud, but Magnus knows what he has to do.

He places a gentle kiss on Alec's lips.

“Let's go to bed. It was a long day, Alexander.” It takes a moment for Magnus’ words to fully sink in.

“You're gonna stay?” Alec asks.

“If you want me to.”

Alec nods. He walks to the door and turns the key.

“That okay?” he asks, still facing away from him.

“Yes. I trust you. I don't know why, but I do.”

Alec's smile is brilliant when he turns around. “I trust you, too, Magnus.”

Magnus isn't sure if he deserves it, but he plans to earn it one day.

Chapter Text

Alec blinks his eyes open, groaning as he notices his heartbeat pounding in his hands. He just couldn't help hurting himself, could he?

But then, he remembers something else, something way more important. He runs his hand over the empty side of his bed. The linen is cold. Was this all just a fever dream? But there's a dent in the second pillow. He rolls over, pressing his nose into the fabric. No dream. Magnus rested his head here, and Alec slept in his arms. The bed seems painfully empty now without the warmth of his body and the steadiness of his beating heart under Alec's ear.

On the beach, Magnus said Alec deserved someone he could wake up in the morning with. But he didn't stay. Couldn't. Alec gets it now. How much worse would he feel right now if they had had sex last night?

Alec sits up, his eyes catching on a piece of paper lying folded on the bedside table. Magnus’ handwriting is beautiful. Alec's name looks like art, like something beautiful. He smiles to himself. It's the way of his family to shorten all names, but he likes that Magnus honours his choice.

He grabs the paper and starts reading. It's obviously just a quick note, the content straight to the point. Alec doesn't know why Magnus wants to see him before the big reveal. He could just walk away. He's given him more than Alec ever thought he could have. But like a moth drawn in by a flame, Alec is already making plans to explain his later absence. He'll have to tell Isabelle the truth, but his secret is safe with her. He just has to survive her sad Bambi eyes.

The bar is softly lit when Alec enters it in the late afternoon. It's a nice place, though it doesn't look like one of Magnus’ usual hunting grounds. But what does Alec know? He only met the man a few days ago. But Magnus gets him in ways not even Jace does, much less their mother. Maybe it's just that. Alec is starved for attention and care. And Magnus dipped right into that need.

But no. He never took advantage of that knowledge. He might have given him whiplash, but Alec did, too, he reckons. And that pull between them? Maybe the Angels do have a finger in every love pie. If they were soulmates, all of this would strangely make sense. Alec tries not to dwell on that thought.

“Hi, I'm Alec,” he says to the woman tending the bar.

“Hey, Alec. Let's see…” She squints at him. “Virgin piña colada,” she says and starts mixing it. Alec blinks at her.

“How…?”

She smirks. “I'm good at my job.”

Alec looks at her name tag. “Maia, I'm here for—”

“The Big M. I know. He's waiting for you over there.”

Alec's eyes follow her gesture. He swallows hard. He sees now why Magnus chose the Hunter's Moon for their meeting—no prying eyes in the rear corner.

“Thank you,” he says when Maia hands him his drink, his heart beating a little faster the closer he gets to the booth.

Magnus looks up at him, smiling. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” Alec replies, sliding onto the bench opposite Magnus. “You left early.”

“I'm sorry, but I had to research a few things,” Magnus says. Alec wants to take his hand so badly, but he refrains. This is goodbye. He doesn't have to make it harder than it already is.

“Research?” he asks, sipping on his cocktail.

“Idris customs,” Magnus smirks.

“I'm sure your future wife will appreciate the effort,” Alec says curtly. This fucking sucks!

“I hope my future spouse will,” Magnus replies.

“What was the research about?” Alec croaks. God, he's not strong enough for this.

“The ritual around the Cup of Union. I plan to incorporate it in my proposal.”

“That's nice. I suppose you do it differently in Edom?”

“We do. It's not so much about permission and duty but more about commitment and equality. At least when you're not a demon like my father.”

Alec nods. “How do you usually do it?”

“People who want to marry gather their families and friends. They walk towards each other, meeting in the middle of the circle. They always meet on eye level, no matter their standing in society, and they promise to take care of each other from that moment on. They usually exchange gifts in the form of jewellery. Then they are marked by the king or a celebrant if one isn't a royal.”

“Marked?” Alec asks.

Magnus smiles. “It's a bit like your runes, I suppose, just less permanent and more colourful.”

“That sounds a bit like our wedding ritual. We mark each other with a wedding rune. It's only with paint during the ceremony, but many get it tattooed later.”

“You must have good cover up tattoo artists in Idris then.” Magnus chuckles.

Alec huffs a laugh. “I had to go to Germany to get my parabatai rune covered. A Shadowhunter's decision is for life, Magnus. Divorce isn't a thing in my culture.”

“That's terrible,” Magnus says.

“It makes for strong commitments,” Alec repeats the reasoning he heard growing up.

“And still, your father isn't here, even though his child could soon be betrothed to the future king of Edom.”

“He's not running away from his commitment to his family like so many other men do in other countries. He and mom simply split the responsibilities. When I need him, he's there for me. When mom asks him to, he comes. What he does in L.A. is no one's business but his.”

“Is that what you think is normal?”

Alec doesn't know what to say to that.

“So… if your partner would cheat on you, you'd just accept it?” Magnus asks.

Alec shrugs. “I kinda expect it. I mean… my wife should find someone who will make her happy in the ways I won't be able to.”

Magnus stares at him for a long moment, then nods.

“I'm a one soul at a time kinda guy. And I've never fallen out of love with someone. I guess I'm odd that way, huh?”

Alec swallows hard. “I think I'd be like that, too, given the chance. I mean, it's for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, right?”

“My father constantly cheated on my mother. I could never do that to my spouse.”

“So choosing someone you could actually fall in love with is crucial,” Alec says. He knows they shouldn't have this conversation. Why did Magnus even ask him to come? To make clear that this is the end for them? Alec figured as much. Magnus is an honest, loyal man.

“So… I guess I made you kick my sister out of the race?”

Magnus gives him a soft smile.

“Just good that mom will never know it was me who screwed it up.”

Magnus’ face pulls into a frown. “I think she will,” he says.

“Why? I won't tell anyone.”

“Alexander… I thought I made myself clear last night: I'll stay if you want me to.”

“I thought we just established that neither of us is a cheater, Magnus.”

“Well, we wouldn't be… if we were each other's husbands.”

Alec's mouth runs dry. “What do you mean?”

“Alexander… I won't give you up unless you ask me to.”

Alec feels like he's about to be sick. “Magnus. It's impossible. We established that.”

“Well… I found a gaping loophole we both can slip through. The queen will give her blessing to a union between me and a Shadowhunter by offering me the filled cup. Your ritual language is gender neutral, so there's no way for me to give away who I'm planning to marry. And when I have the cup, I can offer it to anyone present who is eligible for marriage. That's the law.”

“But you can't offer the cup to a man, Magnus. Those are not our ways.”

“There comes my diverging heritage into play. They never put all those unspoken rules and customs into law, because the Clave was so rigid and prejudiced back in what they call the Time of Angels that they didn't dream of a Shadowhunter marrying someone from outside of Idris. They didn't bother to exclude customs of other nations, including gay marriage.”

Alec gapes at him. “It would be an insult.”

“It would catapult your people into the 21st century.”

“It would expose my family to mockery and ridicule. It might break the peace treaty.”

“No, Alexander. Idris doesn't have the money for a war. And your queen will keep a stiff upper lip, pretending that she was involved in the decision.”

“Why would she?”

“Because saving one's face is more important to your people than being right.”

Alec huffs a laugh. “You think you've figured it all out.”

“Well, I am brilliant,” Magnus says, grinning at him over the rim of his cocktail glass.

“You don't get it, do you? The queen might go with the flow but… I could never return home. Our kids couldn't play with their cousins.”

“What makes you think that?”

“My family would ban me. That's what happens to Shadowhunters who stray from the path. We are shunned, erased from the family tree. We become ghosts. I risked it all before, Magnus. I barely survived. I can't risk it again.”

Alec gets up, looking for the nearest exit. He doesn't want to make a scene.

“Alexander,” Magnus pleads from inside the booth. He can't afford a scene either. “Is your family truly more important than your happiness?” he asks.

“At least this misery, I'm familiar with. How do you think Edom will treat a trans man by your side?”

“Our Chancellor of the Exchequer is a trans woman. We have tribes that have always recognised more than two genders. This is a safe country. You could be happy here. And your siblings won't shun you. They love you too much.”

Isabelle, maybe. But Max is still under his parents’ influence. And Jace? He always was a mama's boy.

“Love is always conditional, Magnus. At least I know the rules of it at home.”

“My love will be unconditional. You can do and be whatever and whoever you need to be happy.”

“I'm sure you believe that to be true. But say you give me the cup and I accept it… what then? If you offer it to one of the women, she will return to Idris, will say goodbye to her friends, receive the blessings of her family and her dowry, and then, she'll be prepared to become your perfect bride. There isn't even a custom for a male royal to move to another country.”

“Traditions are there to serve the people, not the other way around, Alexander.”

Magnus might be right but he clearly doesn't get it. That's not how Alec's world works.

“My parents didn't change the entry of my birth in our family bible when I chose my name. Because tradition was more important than my feelings. The family name wouldn't be tainted for those coming after us. My lineage would simply be a dead-end. No mention of marriage. No births of children. Just the date of my death underneath my fucking deadname. They might even bury me with it in the family's cemetery, away from my wife and kids. Did you know that that's why we call it a deadname? Because they bury us with that name chiselled into the headstone.

“Tradition might serve the people in Edom, but where I come from, the individuum is only as valuable as what they can offer to family and country. I was always only a token on Idris’ checkerboard. And as easily as they could remove me from competing, just as easily they will erase my very existence from memory.”

“Even if the queen should intervene?” Magnus asks.

“You met her. Do you think our love story will melt her heart?”

Magnus works his jaw but stays silent.

“Goodbye, Magnus. Thank you… for seeing me,” Alec says, eyes filling with tears. He keeps them in until he's turned away from the man he loves. No one has ever fought for him the way Magnus has. He'll forever hold that truth in his heart: One man was willing to burn the world to the ground just to make him happy.

Chapter Text

“Are you ready, son?” Asmodeus asks, cupping his shoulder from behind as he considers Magnus in the mirror.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Magnus replies. His father isn't a man to share his broken heart with. All this planning, all this hope… How is he supposed to cram all of that back into the corner of his heart that is filled with Alec?

Will he be in the room when he gets engaged? Will his heart ache as much as Magnus’ does right now?

Alec wasn't ready to take the leap. Magnus can see that now. But how do you coax someone out of the closet in such a short time? The thought of Alec being buried next to these people with a wrong name marking his grave makes Magnus’ skin crawl. So much potential wasted, and for what?

“Did you learn your lines?” Asmodeus asks.

“Yes, Father. I know them by heart.” Because he learnt them for Alec.

At least Catarina and Ragnor will be present to give him moral support. And his bride will return to Idris right after the ceremony, the ritual demanding that she prepare for their nuptials, only letters allowed between the soon-to-be husband and wife. How silly, but kinda classic, too.

They won't have to wait long. They're having an autumn wedding. Edom is beautiful in October. Still warm, the country brimming with colour. He has to prepare his palace to house his future wife and her maids, has to make space and try to find ways to make it easier for her to settle in. And then, there's the wedding night and all the other marital duties. And all that while knowing that the man he does want to marry is suffering a hopeless life of following orders and trying to convince people who will never love him fully that he is worthy of receiving the crumbs they're throwing at him.

Magnus gloves up, remembering Alec's hands. How often does he hurt himself like that? How much pressure is building inside him that might implode one day?

Magnus will never know. He can't. He won't do that to himself. Alec is an adult man. He has to learn to take care of himself. That doesn't mean it's easy.

“Showtime,” Asmodeus says. “Make me proud.”

Declarations of pride always come at a price when it concerns his father. Magnus smiles nonetheless. When the day is over, he can return to his place, can lick his wounds and distract himself with work. Hopefully, he'll be too busy with wedding preparations. It'll be the wedding of the century. At least that, he has under his control.

“I can't believe she’s making you do this,” Isabelle grinds out.

“If she knows, she wants to teach me a lesson, and if she doesn't…” Alec says, brushing his hands over the jacket of his dress uniform. It's a little too wide. Isabelle has seen it. She's been trying to feed him snacks all evening. She is the stress eater of the two of them, but she focusses all her fussing on him.

“Aren't you nervous?” Alec asks, playing with the Lightwood ring. He received it on his 18th birthday, after long discussions between his parents. He still hasn't brought it to a jeweller to get it adjusted. It figures.

“About what?” Isabelke asks. “Only my whole life could change today. But I don't think it will. Magnus isn't a sadomasochist. My money is on Aline.”

“Why Aline?”

“I heard them talk about the opera. They are both massive Maria Callas fans, apparently.”

“Is she like… famous?”

Isabelle shrugs. “You know I don't like that stuff.” Alec doesn't know if he would. Music has never played a big role in his life, unless Jace sat at the piano. Maryse always loved listening to him play. There was a time when Alec envied his brother for the loving attention he received from her. Jace could do no wrong. Not even when he met Clary, who had grown up in New York and who had struggled with adapting to their culture despite her parents being originally from Idris. When Jace petitioned for the Cup of Union, Maryse and Robert stood proudly by his side. Will they too, when Alec finds someone stupid or selfless enough to want to share her life with him?

He told Magnus that Robert would come if he needed him. But the truth is, Alec doesn't know how to ask. Robert wasn't there when he got his first suit or when he went to the doctor to get his first T shot. He sent him a get well card after his top surgery, but without Isabelle, Alec would have been solely responsible for his recovery. He hadn't asked her either. How could he? It was his decision, right? He couldn't ask others to help him clean himself, cut the knots on his sutures as he was miles away from his surgeon, or fill up his water bottle when he was in too much pain to even leave the bed the first few days. Still, Isabelle was there for him. She is his rock. But given the way she and that Simon guy looked at each other, Alec is pretty sure that he will lose her to Edom, either way. At least she will escape the hellscape that is Idris. She deserves a happy ending.

Magnus walks tall next to his father as they enter the ballroom. So much has happened since the last time he was here, since he danced with Alec. Alec who looks pale now, overtowering his mother who curtseys like the rest of the women. Alec barely bows. He's looking nauseated. Magnus can't blame him. He feels the same.

They bow in front of the queen. Magnus rehearsed everything to a T. He feels numb, as if someone else is saying the words, a doppelganger going through the ritual for him. Even the Latin comes easily. His old tutor would be so proud of him.

The Cup of Union weighs more than he expected. Or maybe it's the heaviness of his heart making the walk to the middle of the room so arduous. Or it's that Alec is in his line of sight, barely breathing.

Magnus speaks the old Edom words of union towards him, and him alone, his heart collecting the tears he isn't allowed to spill. The following translation feels stilted even though the best poets of Edom worked on it. There's just something about your native tongue that will never come across in a foreign language, no matter how well you master it. Still, Magnus puts all his heart in it. He doesn't see the tears in some of the attendants’ eyes, how moved they are by words as old as time. All he sees is Alec, the whole world fading away as their eyes meet across the room.

Not even his father's voice can cut the connection between them as he speaks his blessings.

“May heart and heart become one.
May souls unite in blessed union.
May freedom blossom where laughter grows.
May time be gentle and harvests rich.
May graveness be rare and blessings abundant.
May your love be rain on each other's fields and sunshine on your faces.”

Magnus always loved that part. Spending the seasons of life together, facing every storm, sharing every sunrise… It sounded perfect. And he will make the best of it, will try to make his wife happy as can be. Just as Alec will try to be a good husband. Magnus doesn't doubt that he'll succeed. He is a self-sacrificing soul, after all. But will he be happy? Magnus prays to the Angels that he will be.

“Your turn, son,” Asmodeus murmurs. Magnus nods. He zoned out for a moment.

He raises the Cup, throat feeling tight as he speaks the hardest words of his life.

“Come to me, my soul, my equal.
Come and make the Angels cheer.”

Well, that's a very deliberate choice of words for the occasion. Magnus thought it would bring a smile to Alec's face when he exchanged the line that was closer to the original but hard to understand for someone who didn't grow up in Edom. But Shadowhunters believe that the angels make matches in Heaven. It seemed to fit the spirit. Now, the line tastes bitter on his tongue.

“Come and find what you are wanting.
Let me find what I do need.
Let us build a new horizon.
One that no one's ever seen.
Let us join in God's creation.
Leave behind what hauntes you.
New beginnings. New adventures.
I want to face them all with you.”

Now comes the part where he has to speak a name, seal his fate. Magnus’ eyes prick with tears. This is harder than he expected.

He centres himself for a long moment, cutting off the gaze that tethered him to the man whose name he should speak. It wouldn't be fair to look at him as he calls for someone he doesn't want. Not to Alec, not to his future wife. Not to him either. So he speaks the next words with his eyes closed. Maybe he is a coward, but his heart is shattering into a million pieces. He deserves a moment of weakness.

“Come, my love, and I'll be yours.
Come my light, my heart, my soul.
Come, dear—”

There is a quiet commotion at the end of the ballroom that makes Magnus open his eyes.

“Alec, what are you doing?” he hears Maryse hiss, her hand firmly on Alec's arm. When did he step out of the crowd?

Magnus looks at him, heart beating violently against his ribcage. Did his words move Alec? Did they speak to his soul?

Alec shakes off her grip and straightens his jacket.

“Enough,” he says for everyone to hear. Magnus’ heart stops still for a long moment, only stumbling back to action when Alec takes a step forward, and another one, and another one… until he stands in front of him. Alec's breaths come shallow, but his cheeks are flushed pink, life returning to his features. He doesn't say a word but his eyes are searching as the world holds its breath.

Magnus glances at his father. Asmodeus has an amused look on his face, eyebrow arched in surprise and clear entertainment. He nods barely noticeably.

Magnus huffs out a quiet laugh, releasing just enough tension to gather his wits.

“Come, my love, and I'll be yours.
Come my light, my heart, my soul.
Come, dear Alexander mine
And make… my life… whole.”

Alec's lips twitch into a nervous smile. Magnus wants to touch him, to soothe his clearly boiling nerves. But his hands are filled.

Oh, right.

He bows the way he learnt in the preparation, offering the Cup to Alec whose hands are trembling as he lifts it to his lips. Half of the crowd gasps as he takes a sip.

“Well, well, well,” Asmodeus chuckles. Magnus pushes the unease away. This is their moment.

Asmodeus takes the Cup off Alec's hands and passes it to the servant who is holding a cushion with paint and a brush.

“Your gifts,” he says nonchalantly.

Magnus thanks his past self that he didn't switch out the bracelet to something more feminine. Alec's eyes are wide and panicked when Magnus checks for his reaction as he puts it around his wrist.

“You don't like it?” Magnus whispers. He's always been good at gauging a partner's jewellery taste. Did he fail with the person who matters the most?

“It's breathtaking. I just… I didn't prepare… I…”

Alec didn't plan this. He didn't know he'd do it mere minutes ago. Magnus’ blood sings. Alec followed his heart for once. He chose himself, chose him.

“It's alright. I'm hard to shop for anyway,” Magnus whispers with a chuckle. Alec laughs, the beautiful sound sinking right into Magnus’ soul.

“But you deserve something special. Something personal,” Alec croaks. He pulls the family ring off his finger and nestles it between the rings holding Magnus’ initials.

“I know you won't take my name,” he says quietly. “But…”

“Traditions have to suit people, not the other way around,” Magnus says. He'll carry the ring, carry Alec's name with pride.

“Now that we got that done,” Asmodeus interjects, “Hands!”

Magnus huffs a laugh. His beloved isn't prepared for this part of the ritual unless Isabelle told him about it. But something tells Magnus that she knows about her brother's feelings. Unlike Jace who hasn't stopped gaping at them. Granted, he isn't the only one.

Magnus removes the glove of his right hand and motions Alec to do the same. He takes his hand into his own, running his thumb over the barely closed skin on his knuckles. He squeezes Alec's hand, coaxing a smile out of him. This utterly brave man.

Asmodeus paints the marks on their hands, lines swirling over their skin, red colour connecting them, the pattern only beautiful and meaningful when their hands are joined. Magnus’ nanny once explained to him that the paint would sink into the skin and collect in the hearts of the newlyweds. Well, they aren't that just yet, with Idris insisting on a wedding “befitting their social standards”. But for Magnus, this is it. He is Alec's, and Alec is his. In two months time, they may be getting married for the whole world to see, but he can read it in Alec's eyes: in their hearts, they already are.

Chapter Text

“I'm so proud of you,” Isabelle chirps as she throws her arms around Alec's neck. He chuckles, still overwhelmed from what just happened. He hopes it doesn't show.

Magnus studies him with cautious eyes. He probably knows.

Alec looks over to the queen who is busy talking with his mother. That Maryse hasn't chucked him out on his ear is likely thanks to King Asmodeus still standing in their vicinity. It seems as if Alec's last-minute injection of himself into a political marriage hasn't prompted an immediate war declaration. And Magnus was right. Idris is rich in pride but low on money.

“We should pay deference to your queen,” Magnus says, “and then steal some time for ourselves.”

There's nothing that Alec wants more. He won't see Magnus for two long months. It shouldn't feel daunting, but after days with Magnus filling his thoughts and time, it seems impossible to live without him. Yes, there will be letters, but…

Alec nods, the lump in his throat growing by the second. He needs to get this over with. One affront must not be followed by another. Maybe he'll get away with a bloody nose.

He offers his arm to Magnus without thinking. His fiancé smiles at him as he links their arms. Alec mirrors it if slightly nervous. From now on, they're in this together. He just hopes that Magnus is ready for everything that entails.

They separate before they bow in front of the queen.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” she says, her voice void of emotions.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Alec says, not missing that there's actually nothing to be thankful for. But he was groomed to become a diplomat. Instead, he'll be the Prince Consort, emotional support, arm candy, and charity patron to begin with; father of the heir of Edom likely soon. The truth is only slowly sinking in. Alec pushes down the rising panic and postpones the freakout to a time when he can deal with it without witnesses. He's always good at that. This time is no exception.

“I am honoured to marry one of Your best,” Magnus says. The queen tips her chin forward. She's probably trying not to insult the future king's future husband. In Idris, Alec is a disgrace, now more than ever. Her next words might seal his fate for good. When she orders the Lightwood family to break with him, there is nothing they can do, unless they are ready to follow his fate.

“I'm glad you're pleased with Idris’ offering,” the queen says. Alec relaxes minutely. It's not much but more than he had hoped for.

They bow once more. Magnus interlaces their fingers and drags Alec towards a doorway. He follows blindly. This is Magnus’ turf, and they only have a few more hours, the Idris court leaving the next day at noon.

Their way to Magnus’ destination is lined with congratulations, nervous smiles and unveiled disgust. Alec's cheeks grow hotter with every passing minute. He resembles a tomato when a door clicks closed, and they are finally alone.

“I must echo your sister: You never cease to surprise me, Alexander,” Magnus says, beaming at him. Alec chuckles and runs a hand over his neck.

“I surprised myself there.”

Magnus’ eyes grow cautious. “You don't regret it, do you?”

Does he? It's a hard question to answer, too many different emotions battling in his chest.

“Everything happened so fast. I didn't have time to think.”

Magnus nods and fiddles with the beautiful ear cuff he is wearing today, an Edom dragon with ruby eyes for the special occasion.

“I understand,” Magnus says. “Take your time, and know that there is no pressure from my side to move quickly or even move at all. If you have doubts, fears or regrets…”

“Magnus… I'm simply overwhelmed. I just came out to my family, the queen, two royal courts…” He huffs a laugh. “I just need time to process. I wanna marry you. In your tradition, we already are, right?”

Magnus’ lips curl into a soft smile. The sight elicits a swarm of butterflies in Alec's stomach. He'll probably survive on that memory alone until they're back together. As husbands!

“It feels like you're about to be a runaway groom,” Magnus smirks.

Alec sighs. “I wish I could stay, and not only because my mother will give me hell.”

“You're an adult man, Alexander. And you have the queen's blessing, if begrudgingly.”

“She might try to undo this.”

“Marriage is holy to your people, and as you concluded correctly, you are my husband already. Despite you not having kissed me yet.” Pouting Magnus is a sight to behold. Alec laughs out loud. Magnus clearly just wants to cheer him up. He isn't as good of a kisser as his Edom spouse.

“You haven't kissed me either,” he teases, another kind of nerves claiming him. This is it. This is the man he will spend the rest of his life with. Magnus will be his first everything, and Alec will be Magnus’ last. He, the inexperienced man from Idris. This could end so easily in disaster. But this is Magnus. He'll show him the ropes. It's gonna be fine.

Alec steps forward, looking more confident than he feels. But he wants this, wants Magnus, consequences be damned. He grabs him by the lapels and pulls him into a kiss. Magnus lets out a noise of surprise, his body melting into Alec's with ease. Alec's heart stutters as it hits him—Magnus wants him just as much. He's not just rescuing him. He wants Alec to be his. And nothing else matters.

“What's going on?” Alec asks when he returns to his room, servants buzzing along the corridor like bees.

“We're leaving,” Jace explains.

“What? Now?!”

“Order of the Queen,” Maryse says curtly. “The Clave meets at seven in the morning.”

“Why?” Alec asks, panic rising in his chest. His mother just purses her lips and yells orders at the poor servants.

“I'll pack my stuff then,” Alec says. But he's too late. His room has already been emptied.

“Does King Asmodeus know?” Alec asks. Then, Magnus would likely be informed of their departure by now, too. Alec can't just leave like that. They only said goodbye for the night.

“I'm sure he does,” Isabelle replies.

“I gotta say goodbye to Magnus.”

“There's no time for that. Our car to the airport is waiting,” Maryse says.

“I need to call him at least. Where is my phone?”

“In your suitcase likely. And you're not supposed to contact him beyond letters,” his mother reminds him.

“You can use mine to text him,” Isabelle whispers into his ear.

“You have his number?” Alec whispers despite his mother already being out of earshot. Isabelle rolls her eyes. Of course, she has. His little sister has always been a social butterfly. So is Magnus. And still, this magnificent man chose him, made him brave enough to choose him back. The kisses they shared must suffice. Two more months, lots of letters, and secret texts. Alec can't wait to meet Magnus again. At the altar. Some dreams do come true.

Chapter Text

Magnus smiles at his phone screen as he saves Alec's number with a red heart. It's silly. A few kisses shouldn't earn him that privilege. But he's his husband. They may not have consummated their marriage yet, as on the Idris side, they are only fiancés. Will be for two long months. They couldn't even say goodbye properly but those are the odd things one has to expect when two cultures unite. But thanks to Isabelle, there will be a lifeline between them that is faster than the postal service.

Magnus types the first text. He wants Alec to find it when he's home. It's truly silly how many butterflies are fluttering through Magnus’ body simply doing this. But he's allowed to be excited. He's going to marry someone he's been falling for. His life won't just be one of duty and companionship. It will be filled with mornings spent cuddling in bed, romantic get-aways, desire and love. It will lead to happiness. He can feel it in his bones. Or it's the undying romantic in him. But Alec did touch his soul in ways that make him dream and hope. And he wants to give Alec the same.

“Already planning the reception?” Asmodeus pops his bubble. Magnus had all but forgotten that his father was there.

“I'm surprised Idris didn't care to make demands regarding the wedding,” he replies.

“They have one: They want one of their clergy to marry you two.”

Magnus can't help but frown. “Do you think they wanna trick us into an unbinding matrimony?”

“If they meant to, I made sure to give them a certificate of today's nuptials with my own seal. They clearly weren't pleased about it, but well.”

“So Alec is already a citizen of Edom,” Magnus says, barely hiding his surprise.

“You didn't think I'd let them leave the country with your husband without making sure they would return him to his rightful place, did you?”

Magnus doesn't believe one second that that's for Alec's good but having Asmodeus’ protection would make things easier in case Idris should refuse to go through with the official marriage.

“One of our priests should bless us, too. Otherwise, they might frame us as heathens,” Magnus muses.

Asmodeus chuckles. “We are heathens in the eyes of those holier-than-thous, son.”

Magnus scoffs. “Our people are just as spiritual as theirs. We simply honour the Divine differently.”

“You're right. I'll send our request out come morning,” Asmodeus says. “I trust you with the wedding preparations. Show the world who we are.”

“I will make the country proud, Father,” Magnus says and bows. Two months suddenly don't feel long enough to put together the wedding of his dreams. Of their dreams. Magnus can't wait to hear what Alec's wishes are.

Alec lets out a frustrated sound. He's gone through his stuff twice now. He hates it when others touch his things. A knock at the door pulls him out of his thoughts. It's the wee hours. He thought he was the last person awake.

He finds Jace on the other side, smiling nervously at him. Alec's stomach clenches at the sight. They haven't had a chance to talk yet. The hasty departure made him end up between the Penhallows and the Branwells, the hostility as physical as a punch in the guts. But Lydia congratulated him on their way down the aeroplane steps, and Aline gave him a warm smile when she bid goodbye. At least these two seem to be happy for him—or relieved for themselves. Leaving your family, your country behind with everything that is familiar and safe—Alec might not have had the happiest life here, but it wasn't all bad, and it was, is home.

“Hey,” Jace says, shifting from one foot to the other. “I saw there were still lights on in your room, so I thought… Congratulations, Alec.” He offers his hand to shake. Alec swallows hard. Jace usually isn't a hugger, but with him, he broke that rule for good. Or so Alec thought.

“Wanna come in?” he asks, shaking the hand awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Jace replies, his hands ending up in the pockets of his jeans. He huffs a laugh as he looks at the posters on Alec's wall. Alec hasn't redecorated his room in ages, and now, it will stay like this until he moves out. It's a weird thought. It's not unusual for Shadowhunters to live in their parents’ house or at so-called Institutes across the world until they marry. He thought that would take a little longer, though.

“I thought those were male ideals to work towards, not men to jerk off to,” Jace teases. Alec snorts a laugh.

“I can't jerk off. You know that,” Alec manages more easily than he thought he would. His brother doesn't need to know that most of the time, his bottom dysphoria makes masturbation impossible. He doesn't know how other trans guys do it. He read reddit posts and watched YouTube videos about toys and stuff. Maybe it's easier when direct touch isn't involved. Not that he could afford any of those items. He's just a student with a tiny allowance. Maybe after the wedding… No, he can't be that selfish. It would probably just be money down the drain anyway. And Magnus and he will have sex, so…

“What do you call it then?” Jace asks, sounding actually curious. They never really talked about intimate things like that. Not before Alec's transition and definitely not after his coming out.

“Why name it?” Alec deflects. He doesn't want to think about stuff like that. But something tells him it's unmanly to confess that he's too inexperienced to have this conversation.

“Probably not important,” Jace says. “So… Magnus, huh?”

Alec nods.

“How did you know…? Did you know that he'd accept you?”

“Yeah. He kinda proposed to me earlier. I declined but seeing him there, saying all those beautiful words and… I dunno. It was then or never.”

Jace nods as if in understanding. “It's weird. I kinda thought…” he trails off.

“What?”

“That you were into chicks, and that's why you transitioned.”

Alec stares at him for a long moment, speechless. The sheer thought is absurd. Why would he get surgery and take hormones just to…? But well. This is Idris. Facade is everything. He'd hidden all those feelings from everyone he could. He had to share some with his parents to get medical support but none of his siblings has a clue what he went through, what he still is going through at times. They didn't touch the obvious sacrifices he had to make, either. Isabelle tried, but he cut off every conversation regarding archery, until she stopped bringing it up.

“I transitioned because I am a man, Jace, because it was this or…” The way Jace's face falls, Alec regrets his words immediately.

“I didn't know it was that bad,” Jace croaks.

“Because you weren't supposed to know. But this is me. I'm a gay trans man, and until a few hours ago, I thought I'd marry Lydia or someone else interested solely in a marriage of convenience.”

Jace chuckles. “You sure won't now. The way Magnus’ face lit up when he saw you walking towards him.”

“Yeah?” Alec asks. He was too nervous to process it all in the moment.

“He really likes you,” Jace replies.

Alec thinks it's probably more than that, but he decides to hold that truth close to his chest. These memories are his and Magnus’ alone. Their first kiss, skinny dipping in Lake Lyn… It's not much, all things considered, but the beginning of something beautiful it is, for sure.

Chapter Text

“I can't believe they lost my phone,” Alec grunts.

“It'll pop up eventually,” Jace says. “And you lovebirds can use WhatsApp on your laptop until it does.”

Alec smirks. His brother is right. He can still text with Magnus. That no one can bug him with phone calls is actually a plus. Alec hates talking on the phone. He'd make an exception for his husband/fiancé, but that would risk Maryse getting wind of them breaking with tradition.

Magnus has been busy all day, but he's bombarded Alec with info and questions already, quickly sent between meetings. He also shared details like a photo of the sketch of Madzie's flower girl dress, asking if Alec has a young family member to share the duty with. Alec doubts that any of his cousins will be allowed to see two men marry. Half of their parents have excluded him from family gatherings since his transition. Alec couldn't make himself tell Magnus that. He doesn't want his pity. He wants Magnus to see him as a good catch. Which is already hard enough with all the baggage he brings.

Magnus also asked Alec about his clothing plans for their big day. Not even 24 hours engaged, and Alec is supposed to know. He's not fooling himself, however. He won't have a say regarding those decisions. His mother will take the reins, and she will hold up tradition. Gold is to be expected to play a big part. Maybe she'll just go with his dress uniform, nothing special but a classic. Or he'll wear a tailcoat like Jace wore at his wedding. Or a tux with a cummerbund. He'll wear whatever she deems appropriate. It doesn't mean anything to him. He'd marry in jeans and a tee if that were allowed. He wants to look good for Magnus though. He'll ask Jace to train with him. His brother always pushes him further than Alec thinks he can go. He will miss him and their sparring matches dearly.

Alec breathes a sigh, his stomach clenching with worry. His mother still has to return from the Clave meeting. What is there even to discuss for so long? It's a done deal, right? Alec heard Maryse tell her husband over the phone that Asmodeus made sure to write a marriage certificate. Maybe the Clave will try to spin it as a coup—flipping a last bird to the ex-enemy. Alec doesn't care. He'll get his prince, will run to him if need be. Idris’ history books might paint him in demonic colours, but so be it. He's officially a Downworlder now.

“Do you think Dad will come to give me the groom lessons?” Alec asks.

“They'll probably start today. I'm sure he's at the Clave meeting right now.”

Alec lets out a ragged breath. That would mean he's in trouble. The queen hasn't asked Robert to court since word got around that he was living with his lover in the L.A. Institute as if they were married.

“He surely won't walk me down the aisle,” Alec murmurs.

“You meant to ask him?”

Alec shrugs. “I don't have a parabatai to be my suggenes anymore, so…”

“You've got three siblings, Alec. Every single one of us would be proud to walk by your side.”

Alec knows that. But Izzy has her own parabatai, and Max is too young. Alec was Jace's suggenes, but there was a lot of tittle-tattle about that. That can't be helped this time either. Alec simply doesn't want to pull Jace into it. There surely will be photos of him entering the temple. It could spoil Jace's prospects. There will be many people watching from afar who oppose interculteral and gay marriage alike. Jace wants to climb up the greasy pole. Alec can't be so selfish for a single walk up a few steps and down the aisle.

“There's still time to decide. Maybe the walk is taken alone in Edom or there's no big entrance like that. I gotta ask Magnus.” Alec can see the disappointment in his brother's eyes, so he adds, “But you'll be my best man, right?”

Jace's lips curl into a smile. It's a rather new custom in Idris, still frowned upon by their parents’ generation as a foreign tradition.

“It would be my honour,” Jace says. Alec believes him. And standing at the altar together with their other siblings, it'll look as if Jace just fulfilled the family duty. No harm will be done to his reputation. Alec hates that he even has to think about stuff like that. None of this should be controversial. But it is what it is.

The front door falling into its lock makes Alec tense up. Isabelle squeezes his hand. “It's gonna be fine.”

Alec looks at the grandfather clock. His mother missed dinner. That doesn't bode well. Her tired eyes fall on her three children when she enters the living room. She quirks a smile.

“You're still up.”

“You weren't answering our calls,” Jace says from his spot near the fireplace.

“You know we have to leave them at the door during Clave meetings,” Maryse says and sits down on her favourite armchair. She stares into the flames for a while. Alec feels like he's going to suffocate.

“Did you send Irma your birthday dinner plans?” Maryse asks after a long while. The siblings share questioning looks.

“I had them on my phone but—”

“You should pass them on. Your father and Max will join us. It's gonna be your last birthday in Idris. We should properly celebrate. You can invite friends over, to say goodbye to them.”

“I thought we'd do that at his bachelor party,” Jace says.

“You're planning one?” Maryse asks, an unreadable look on her face.

Jace chuckles. “I sure am.”

“Who would even come?” Maryse asks. Which is a fair question.

“Folks from uni, right? Or the army?” Isabelle tries to help out. Alec's lips twitch nervously. He remembers Jace's stag night. His brother could barely decide who to invite and who not.

“I don't need a bachelor party,” Alec says. “I'll ask Aline to join us for my birthday dinner.”

“If you think she'll come. Rumour has it she was the prince's first choice,” Maryse replies.

‘No, I was,’ Alec wants to scream. But his mother probably thinks he stole Aline's husband. How many others believe that, too?

“How did the Clave take the news?” Alec asks.

“The Clave decided to go through with your marriage. Our diplomats tried to persuade King Asmodeus to declare the ritual null and void, but the prince insisted on having you. We have to honour the promise our queen gave, and our family will fulfil the contract you entered. We have no other choice.”

Despite the graveness of her voice, Alec's heart nearly leaps out of his chest. A part of him still feared that the Clave would find a way out of this, that they would throw him into prison or hide him at one of their Institutes. He's heard about these kinds of punishments. For the rest of his life, he would have only seen daylight through thick windows or in an inescapable inner courtyard.

But Magnus insisted, and his father supported him. Their bond will be sealed by a Silent Brother, an Idris priest. They will be the first same-sex couple to receive their blessing. It will send a message to other people like them. Change will come, and Alec's existence will have played a part in that. His selfish bravery made the Clave bow to progress. They will have to honour and celebrate a relationship not only between a Downworlder and a Shadowhunter, but between two men. Not full-heartedly, but still.

“I will bring honour to our family, mother,” Alec says.

“I expect as much,” Maryse replies, returning her gaze to the fire. Alec presses a kiss to her cheek before he leaves for his room.

Two months. He will marry the man of his dreams in two months. It's time to study Edom's history and culture from neutral sources. And the language. He'll surprise his husband with vows in Magnus’ native tongue. He will be in for a surprise. Alec can't wait to see the look on his face.

“I expect you know what to do?” the Queen asked.

Maryse nodded. “Of course, Ma'am. We will return to Edom the perfect bride.”

Chapter Text

“I'm surprised the Clave didn't undo all of this,” Ragnor says, sitting down on the new armchair Magnus purchased. He saw it and thought Alec would like it, sitting close to the fireplace during cold winter nights, reading, relaxing, sipping on a hot chocolate or tea after turning a page. That he loves reading is the only thing Magnus managed to worm out of him. It's infuriating how little Alec wants for himself. Magnus is planning to spoil him rotten. The renovations in the small apartment attached to his have already started. When Alec arrives, he'll find his very own room with a fully stocked library, a day bed to lounge in, a massive wooden desk, storage room for all the things that don't find a place in Magnus’ lair, and a mini bar filled with a selection of the best spirits from around the world. Alec didn't say what booze he prefers so what else was a man gonna do?

Just like with his wedding clothes. Magnus ordered his tailor to make two suits to choose from. One which Magnus would love to see Alec in, a black timeless tux with intricate gold embroidery. The other is less subtle with the Shadowhunters’ wedding colour, a golden tailcoat over a black dress shirt and trousers. It's tasteful, maybe a bit much for his husband's taste. But again: Alec was rather sparse with his answers, and he will look great in it either way. Magnus’ outfit will go with both of the suits. He just hopes that Alec will like one of them. The Clave promised Magnus a liaison officer who is supposed to know Alec well. Magnus hopes they are telling the truth. He doesn't want to be just another point on the long list of disappointments that Alec carries around as if it was the most normal thing to do.

“Not for a lack of trying,” Magnus sighs and hands his old mentor and friend his drink. “They asked my father to annul our marriage.”

Ragnor blows a breath through his teeth. “So much for marriage is holy.”

Magnus chuckles. “For them it's just an engagement. It's all facade with these people anyway.”

“With your husband, too?”

Magnus quirks a smile. “Alexander is a rare gem. His generation is different, but he… I'm still trying to solve the puzzle that he is. He's so strong, but he thinks of himself so little.”

“He's an impressive man if the papers are to be believed.”

Magnus works his jaw. There wasn't an official announcement but someone took a picture of them talking in the club. It's just the rumour mill grinding out information that is publicly available. The bloodhounds aren't on Alec's scent yet, but they will be as soon as their nuptials are announced. Idris asked for a few days to prepare the palace's response to the scandal that will hit with the announcement. Whatever that means. Asmodeus agreed to their request. It's not as if he can't compromise if need be. And what are a few more days in the grand scheme of things? Alec is his already.

“He achieved a lot at a very young age, before they cut his wings,” Magnus says.

“Olympia.” Ragnor sounds impressed which isn't a small feat. Magnus is sad that Alec didn't have control over that information, pictures of him pre-transition already making the rounds. It's cold comfort that Idris blocks gossip sites on their Internet and filters magazines through their censorship. Alec is likely stealth in his everyday life. Or not. Idris is a small kingdom. News probably travelled from mouth to mouth with the Lightwoods suddenly having one boy more. And still, his own people will treat Alec better than the Shadowhunters ever did. Magnus is sure of it.

“I talked to my father. He's thinking about letting him be part of our sports cadre.”

“That's pretty generous for him.”

“I know. My father loves to crush hopes and dreams. But he probably doesn't want an unhappy son-in-law reporting home that Edom treats him poorly. It's all politics, but if it makes Alec happy, I'm all for it.”

“Your father's gifts always come at a price,” Ragnor muses, swirling the whisky in his tumbler. Magnus knows he is right, but there is nothing Alec can pay with. And Magnus will stand in for his ‘debts’ just too willingly. Alec deserves the world, and he will give it to him, no matter the cost.

“Well, he'll have to go through me first,” Magnus says.

“You're smitten,” Ragnor teases.

Magnus shrugs, lips curling into a smile. “What if I am?”

Ragnor arches his eyebrows. “Don't expect it to be easy.”

“I know how to handle my father.”

“I wasn't talking about him.”

Magnus huffs a laugh. “Alec and I are compatible. We're going to be happy.”

Ragnor looks at him with wise, knowing eyes. Magnus doesn't dare ask about his concerns. He wants to stay in his happy bubble for some time. Reality will catch up to them eventually. Hopefully after their honeymoon. Alec still hasn't told him if he'd prefer Ragnor's house on Mykonos, Magnus’ own in Morocco, or a private island where the sun is burning down this time of the year. Maybe neither is to Alec's taste. There's so much Magnus doesn't know about his husband. But he'll figure something out. He has friends all around the world and a private jet at his disposal. The world is their oyster.

“I can't believe my mother allowed us to speak,” Alec chuckles. He presses the receiver of the phone sitting in the hallway to his ear so as not to miss a single sound of Magnus’ voice.

“Happy birthday, Alexander,” Magnus says cheerfully. “Are you having a great day?”

Alec looks through the opened dinner room door, his whole family and Aline sitting there dipped in the glow of the lit chandelier. Even his grandparents showed up. It has been awkward but nice, too. They only deadnamed him thrice.

He's well aware that they can all hear him from over there. He wishes he could walk up to his room and have a private conversation with Magnus, but his phone still hasn't emerged as of yet, and with everything happening so fast, Alec has been too busy to get a new one. So the good old landline it is.

“My siblings took me to have brunch. I'm still full but dinner has just been served anyway.” Alec chuckles. He's feeling a little sick. He couldn't eat properly for days. Much to his surprise, no one commented on it. He's a man walking on cloud number nine. Maybe they know that he's living off air and love as the German saying goes. But all the more, today's feasts are taking a toll on him. He probably won't move for days.

“Next year, they'll all come visit us. I throw the best birthday parties,” Magnus says.

“So I've heard.” Alec can't help but grin. A cat. Magnus once threw a birthday party for his cat.

“Did you receive my present?” Magnus asks.

“Yes. Magnus… It's too much.”

“Poppycock!”

“The bow is a work of art. Late 14th Century style?” Alec guesses.

“Early. Edom was a little more advanced than Idris when it came to warfare technology.”

“Well, we kicked your asses anyway.”

“Only temporarily,” Magnus replies, laughing. Alec loves that they can tease each other like this. He feels like he can't misspeak when it comes to Magnus. He gets him, and if he doesn't, he tries to understand. Alec isn't sure if he'll ever get used to that.

“I'm glad you like it, Alexander. I know it's just a replica but…”

“I'll take it to the shooting range tomorrow and check out if its beauty holds up under scrutiny.”

“I'm sure it will. Just like its owner.”

Alec doesn't know how Magnus manages to make him blush from hundreds of miles away, but he does.

“I have to return to my guests. I'll read you later okay?” Alec whispers.

“Of course. Say hi to Aline. I hope she's not too disappointed.”

“She definitely isn't,” Alec replies, fighting a smile. She found her very own Downworlder to swoon over. One of Magnus’ personal guards at that. A woman. Who would have thought?

“Thank you for calling me. It's so nice to hear your voice,” Alec says louder. As if Magnus doesn't leave him voice messages galore that Alec replays, again and again, pretending to listen to his language audios. It's still true. There is something about the soft tilt of Magnus’ tongue that puts Alec at ease. Only six more weeks. Then, he can hear him speak directly every single day.

Chapter Text

Alec pinches the flesh between his thumb and pointer. He's never been in a doctor's office like this before, all dark wood and old-fashioned furniture. But he never went to the queen's personal physician, so…

A nurse enters with a gentle smile on her lips. She takes a few blood samples. Another arrives shortly after her departure, doing an ECG and measuring his blood pressure. Alec had his annual check up only two months ago, but the queen insisted. Alec only wants his testosterone shot, but well. Idris doesn't want to ship out damaged goods. Or they're still trying to find a reason not to send him at all. But no. Isabelle said the announcement of his marriage would be in the papers today. Alec couldn't make it to a kiosk to get his fingers on one yet. But after the appointment, he'll tell his driver to stop.

His driver.

Another perk of marrying the prince royal. For security reasons, he was told.

Alec waits a while until the doctor joins him, nose deep in Alec's test results.

“All looks good, but your iron is low. Nothing to be worried about. My assistant will give you pills to remedy that,” he says, his smile saccharine. Alec nods. He just wants to get out of here.

“Your next shot is up, I heard,” the doctor says.

“Yes, sir. I'm three weeks late, actually. Can't wait to get it.” Alec chuckles. He's always irritated when his T shots are delayed. But this is all his fault. He forgot to reschedule his standing appointment due to his travels to Edom. But well, he'll be back to normal soon. The syringe lies already prepared on a silver platter.

“Anything else you wanna know?” the doctor asks when Alec lets his jeans down.

“About what?” Alec replies, confused.

“Regarding marital duties,” the doctor says. Alec nearly chokes on his own saliva. He may have a million questions, but he sure won't ask them a cishet, old dude who usually heals the queen's maladies.

“No, thank you,” Alec croaks.

“Alright. Let's get this over with.”

Alec suppresses an eye roll. This must go against all of the doctor's beliefs. But well. Alec won't let this spoil his good mood.

“Make another appointment before your wedding,” the doctor says when he's done. Alec grins to himself. At least for once, the horniness after his T shot will have a chance to bear fruit. He's nervous, but with Magnus’ lips on his, he's sure it's gonna be fine.

Alec types the door code into the touchpad, the security system giving him an error report. Alec frowns and types in the code that hasn't changed since his childhood. But again. Wrong Code.

Alec has just raised his hand to ring the bell when the door swings open.

“You're already home,” his mother greets him, a little out of breath.

“Is the security system broken?” Alec asks, frowning at the two guards standing behind his mother. He's seen them at royal events before.

“Just an update,” Maryse says and closes the door behind him. “How was your appointment?”

“Good,” Alec replies, slightly irritated by the nervous vibes coming off her. “Why the update? Because of me?”

Maryse's lips twitch minutely.

“Because they announced our marriage today?”

Maryse presses her hand into her side and exhales forcefully. “Your father will meet us for lunch. We will explain everything then.”

“Why? What's wrong?”

Maryse turns around and stalks towards the kitchen. Alec stays at her heels.

“Is it the Circle?”

Maryse stalls for a second, then keeps on walking.

“Mom! Tell me. I can handle it. Did Morgenstern issue a threat?”

“The Circle is the least of our problems, Nia.”

Alec stops still in his tracks. His mother hasn't called him by this name in ages.

“So no one will blow up my wedding?” he croaks, heart racing in alarm.

“We won't give the radicals in the country any reason to. Well, not more than a Shadowhunter marrying a Downworlder. Valentine is in solitary confinement, and the state security is dealing with Circle supporters. I spent the morning organising a new security detail for our house.”

Alec processes the info. It does make sense that the Clave has taken care of these things. And it does make sense to secure him, and still… Something is off. He simply cannot put his finger on what.

“Coffee?” Maryse asks. Alec hums his approval. He fishes the Idris Chronicle from the kitchen island, expecting to find his news on the front page. But no such thing.

Maryse turns, studying his reaction.

“I thought they were publishing it today,” Alec says.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Maryse replies, wetting her lips.

“Mom, what is going on?” Alec demands to know.

“As I said: We'll wait for your father.”

“What is so bad that you can't tell me now?”

“For Heaven's sake, Nia! Go to your room and stay there until your father arrives.”

Alec feels like he's about to be sick. “W–why are you deadnaming me, Mom?”

Maryse's face pulls into an annoyed grimace. “Because that's your name.”

“It hasn't been for many years.”

“Well, that was a mistake. If I had known that you were after boys…”

“Then what?”

“You're a clever girl. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

Alec gapes at her. “Well, what's done is done,” he grinds out.

“Indeed.”

Alec's stomach churns.

“Oh, there you are,” Robert announces himself.

“Why are you here, Dad?” Alec asks under his breath. He can't ask the unthinkable.

Robert and Maryse share a look. Then, she breathes a sigh and opens the newspaper. The rustling of the paper sounds loudly in Alec's ears. Maryse pushes the Chronicle towards him without a world. There, wedged in-between other marriage announcements he finds the one with the Lightwood crest.

Alec reads the first line, growing pale as the truth sinks in.

“Please, tell me that this is just to appease the hardliners in the Clave,” Alec presses out.

“It is,” Robert says.

“So… it's just the announcement?” Alec's heart freezes as he sees his father's face glitch for the fracture of a second.

“Our standing at court is fragile enough due to my life in L.A.,” Robert says, looking at Maryse of all people for support.

Alec slumps down on a kitchen chair. “So your son has to pay for your sins?” he asks, bitterness seeping into his voice.

“You must think of your siblings, Alec,” Robert pleads.

“You didn't think of your children when you decided to abandon mom.”

“He didn't abandon me. We came to a mutual agreement,” Maryse says calmly. “We hope you and us can achieve the same.”

Alec scoffs. “You think no one will notice that Edom's announcement will have other names?”

“We don't care about Edom,” Maryse explains. “We only need a few pictures for our people with you in a wedding dress hanging off your husband's arm.”

“And an heir for King Asmodeus,” Robert adds.

Terror wrecks through Alec like a tidal wave. “You can't be serious!” is all he manages.

“He insists. We can't allow you to marry as a man, for obvious reasons. I'm sure you understand,” Maryse says.

“You want me to pretend I'm a woman? Have you looked at me lately?”

Maryse purses her lips. “Your mastectomy is a challenge but we'll find a solution for that.”

Alec lets out a hysterical laugh. “It's two p.m., and I already have a five o'clock shadow, Mom. I… You really prefer a bad drag queen performance over me marrying in a suit?”

“You promised you'd bring honour to our family. This is the way to do it,” Maryse says.

“You're throwing that line into my face, well knowing this isn't what I meant. Why did you let me transition in the first place when you think that is even an option for me?”

“Because the doctors told us you might kill yourself if we don't. But you're not a teen anymore. You're an adult, and you decided having this man was more important than the ways of our people. You didn't leave us a choice, Nia. You made your bed. Now you have to sleep in it.”

“This is ridiculous. Magnus will never allow it.”

“He won't know,” Robert says.

“I will let him know,” Alec hisses.

“Every communication towards and from Edom will go through us,” Maryse explains, her voice infuriatingly calm.

“I am an adult man,” Alec says. “You can't abridge my rights like that.”

“We're doing you a favour, Alec,” Robert says in that tone he once used to explain to Alec the workings of the world. “The original plan was to incarcerate you in the Guard. Your mother and I pleaded your case.”

“You still agreed to their insane plan.”

“You can sleep in your bed, study in your room, spend mealtime with your family,” Maryse argues.

“You think Izzy and Jace will agree to this charade?”

“Your siblings have already left the country with missions of their own,” Robert says.

“What kind of missions?”

“During my absence, Jace is going to be the acting head of the L.A. Institute, and your sister will be the liaison officer helping the prince royal with the wedding preparations.”

“What exactly qualifies them for these positions? Jace has never… I ran the New York Institute in your absence.”

“We are aware of that. But he and Clary will manage just fine,” Maryse says.

Alec nods, working his jaw. “So… you took care of isolating me from anyone who could disrupt your evil plan.”

“It's only one day in your life, Alec,” Robert reasons.

“How would you feel if you had to act as a woman on the most important day of your life, Dad?” Alec asks.

Robert looks at him, sympathy carved into his features. “You and Magnus are already married, and you'll see: You'll have many days way more important than this single point in time.”

Alec shakes his head and gets up. There is no reasoning with his parents, but he still has an ace up his sleeve. He climbs the stairs two steps at a time and flings his bedroom door open. He freezes when he finds his desk empty.

He turns around when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You took my computer,” he whispers.

“We know you exchanged messages with him,” Robert says. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry doesn't cut it, Dad. You allowed me to leave the closet just to shove me back in when I finally found happiness. How am I supposed to look Magnus in the eyes and expect him to say yes to that fake version of me?”

“I know it's gonna be hard, but… He seems to be a big-hearted man. He will understand that, as a Shadowhunter, your duty will always come before anything else.”

It's what Alec was taught throughout his childhood. He just never thought that would mean returning to a version of himself that he shed a long time ago. But he's a prisoner in his own home with guards around the house not protecting him from the outside world but making sure to keep him in. All he can hope for is for Magnus or his siblings to become suspicious. He's like a frigging princess confined to an ivory tower. And just like her, if his magical husband doesn't come to rescue him, he will marry in white.

Chapter Text

...and that's why I think it's better to keep up tradition and stop texting.

Magnus frowns at his phone screen. Texting Alec has been the best part of his day for the past few weeks. And Alec was finally slowly opening up to him. Then the birthday phone call. Did he do something wrong? Was he too much? Again? Already?

Magnus scrolls up their chat. Yes. He can see it now. Alec always left emojis, even when he didn't reply. But he hasn't left any since they said goodnight the day before. Magnus throws his phone on his bed and grunts in frustration. Why is he like this? Didn't he learn anything from his past relationships?

His fingers itch with the need to type an apology, to beg not to cut this source of joy out of his life. But that would be pathetic and overbearing once more. He can do better. If Alec wants to walk the slow road, Magnus can adjust. He's married to a traditional man. It's good that he is. Marrying into the Royal Family isn't easy, even for someone as nobly raised as his husband.

Writing letters might help him narrow his questions and requests down to the absolute necessary. It's a good exercise, he supposes. So after taking a deep breath, he texts Alec his accepting reply. His eyes immediately go to the stationery lying on his desk. But no. He'll collect his thoughts throughout the day and will sit down the next morning to write. It's what Alec wants and deserves. Focused attention. Magnus can give him that.

He grabs the top newspaper from the pile his valet brought him in the morning. The local ones all have the same front page. Magnus’ lips curl up into a smile. He can't help it. His stomach pulls tight in a surge of joy every time he reads the proclamation.

We are pleased to announce the engagement of His Royal Highness, the Prince Royal of Edom to His Grace, the Marquis of Alicante.

The couple became engaged on August 28. The engagement took place at the enchanting halls of Edom Castle, surrounded by family and close friends.

The royal wedding is set for October 26. A ceremony will be held at the historic Grand Temple of Edom, followed by a lavish reception at the Royal Palace.

Alexander, His Grace the Marquis of Alicante, is a distinguished figure known for his remarkable achievements in both archery and military service. He proudly earned an Olympic silver medal in archery and has secured numerous national and international titles, showcasing his exceptional skill and dedication to the sport. In addition to his athletic accomplishments, he has served his country, Idris, with honor in the military. His commitment to service reflects his strong character and leadership qualities, making him a beloved figure among his people.

His Royal Highness, Magnus, the Prince Royal of Edom, is a respected leader known for his dedication to sustainable development and cultural heritage. He stands as a paragon of benevolence and leadership, embodying the essence of charity in his realm. His commitment to uplifting the marginalized and providing for the needy is both profound and inspiring. Through his extensive charitable work, he exemplifies what it means to lead with compassion and purpose. His legacy is one of hope and unity, making him a beloved figure in the hearts of his people and this union a significant event for both their countries.

We invite you to join us in celebrating this joyous occasion as two noble houses unite in love and partnership. Further details regarding invitations and festivities will be shared in due course.

Magnus runs his fingers over the paragraph describing Alec. To think that the same text has been published and is being read in Idris today fills him with satisfaction. That Alec finally gets the recognition he deserves elicits butterflies in Magnus’ stomach. He doesn't care about the adulation about him. He does his work with love and devotion, not for fulsome praise. But Alec? He had to forgo appreciation his whole life. He didn't have to say it for Magnus to know that. Even more than in the stories where Magnus could read in between the lines, it was written in every reaction of Alec's body. It lay in the surprise, near shock when Magnus said something nice about him. It'll take time to undo the harm but Magnus is adamant. It'll be his mission.

The announcement gives him food for thought. Alec served in the military. Magnus thought it had been the mandatory kind, but Idris’ wording sounds as if it was more than that. Alec's experience could be a tool in speeding up his return to professional sport. Many Edom athletes are soldiers, too. But would the military accept a foreign born prince? Technically, Alec is already a citizen. Would he even want to return to being uniformed? He's a student now, after all. A double major in political science and international relations, a fact that Idris forgot to mention. He'll surely want to finish those, Magnus reckons.

He puts the question in his note app, refraining from checking if Alec read his reply. His husband is teaching him a lesson in restraint. Alec surely is the master of it. It makes Magnus’ heart ache.

“Your Royal Highness?” Helen asks. Magnus looks up from his phone. “Idris’ liaison officer has arrived,” she informs.

“Who is it?”

“The Marquise of Alicante, Isabelle Lightwood.”

Magnus’ face lights up. “What a lovely surprise,” he says as she enters. He bows respectfully as she curtseys.

“Not so formal, dear Isabelle,” he chuckles. “I'm not my father.”

“I'm representing my country so…” Isabelle smirks.

“I hope you're representing your brother,” Magnus replies, opening his arms to cup her shoulders, placing a kiss on each of her cheeks.

Isabelle chuckles. “Well, I'll do my best. That man is hard to please.”

“What do you mean?”

Isabelle sighs. “Alec has always kept his feelings and wishes close to his chest. The last time we talked about his dreams was before Jace joined our family.”

“When was that?”

“I think when Alec was eleven or twelve.”

Magnus exhales slowly. “More than a decade.”

Isabelle hums in affirmation. “When he came out, no one had suspected anything. He went through all of this soul-searching and pain alone. I tried to be there for him, after, but…”

“I'm sure he appreciates everything you've done for him. — Where are you staying?”

“In a hotel in town.”

“Oh, no! You'll be my guest. I insist. The palace is way too big for one person anyway.”

“You won't live alone for much longer,” Isabelle says with a bright smile adorning her face.

“I suppose not.” Magnus grins. “I already started the renovations. Would you like to see your brother's quarters?”

Isabelle's face falls. “You won't share…?” she trails off.

“Oh, I very much hope we will. But I thought he could do with a bit of privacy. He has never lived alone, right? It will be his very own man cave, if you will, a place to shut out the world, including me if he needs a bit of solitude.”

Isabelle chuckles. “My brother has his solitary phases. I'm sure he'll love it.”

Magnus leads her over, studying her reaction as she looks at the wallpaper and paint samples.

“Do you think he'll like it?” Magnus asks, nervousness swirling through his body. He wants this to be perfect for his husband. Now that sending pictures is out of the question, he's relying on Isabelle's support to make the right decisions. Much to his relief, she nods as she takes in the furniture.

“What is his favourite colour?” Magnus asks after a while. Isabelle's eyes are glassy with tears when they meet his.

“It's been a long while since we talked about such things,” she replies. “It used to be purple, but I haven't seen him wear anything but black, dark blues, and greys for a long while. I think he feels safer with those choices.”

Magnus nods in understanding. “I'm glad that you're here, Isabelle,” he says, squeezing her hand. “I'm sure you'll give me good advice.”

Isabelle quirks a smile. “Let's make a wedding to remember.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, Alec, wake up.”

His father's voice rudely penetrates Alec's dreamless sleep. For a long moment, he feels like a little boy again, woken way too early for his long day at the Academy. But no.

“Irma prepared lunch,” Robert says, way too gently for Alec's liking. He figured his father was playing the good cop, gentle, still using his name and correct pronouns. It's kinda unfair that his mother always has to be the bogeyman. Sadly, it suits her. She always said Alec was so much like her. There used to be a time when that sounded like praise. Now, it feels like a warning. He wouldn't act with such cruelty towards his own children. But maybe he'll never have kids of his own. Magnus might step away from the altar, separating from him before their marriage has even begun. Alec wouldn't blame him. This is insanity.

“Come on, boy. Pull yourself together. You don't wanna be just skin and bones on your wedding day, do you?”

Not that it would make a difference.

“‘m not hungry,” Alec mumbles into his pillow. He truly isn't, hasn't been for days. He should be ravenous and horny after getting his shot, but he's neither. It has slowly sunk in that it didn't contain testosterone. He hasn't let his family in on the knowledge yet. It's not as if he could change anything about it anyway. It was probably oestrogen or something else to jump start his cycle after several years on T. Alec hasn't forgotten Robert's words about Asmodeus’ demands. Asmodeus’, not Magnus’. But maybe the king was simply voicing both of their thoughts. But surely they will have time to think, for him to decide if he can imagine carrying their child or if they will opt for surrogacy or adoption. In Alec's imagination, he had always raised other people's children. It's still a nice thought. He read about the orphanage that Magnus is the patron of. Maybe they'll grow their family honouring the sacrifices of others. Ironically, it's part of Idris’ culture.

Alec still can't let go of hope. Maybe Magnus will keep his word.

“May your love be rain on each other's fields and sunshine on your faces.”

Alec needs this to be true now more than ever.

The first day after the revelation, he had still hoped to escape somehow. He checked for blind or weak spots in the security, tiptoed downstairs in the middle of the night to use the landline. He found it had been removed. He had a good cry after and attempted to break out that very morning, but all he managed was to set off the new alarm system. The update wasn't just for the software. Every window, every door to the outside is individually secured now.

The raindrops running down the window glass mirror his fractured soul. For most of his life, Alec has walked the sharp edge of depression, sometimes tipping over, sometimes keeping it at bay just so. He can feel it claim his body now, a heaviness pulling on him like never before. It should be bearable. He ran on oestrogen in the past. He survived on it for years, watched with silent horror how it changed a body that once had felt right and strong. He hadn't known that girls and boys had different body parts until Max was born, but only when puberty hit did he realise the full depth of it. Jace grew into the man he was, and Alec grew into the caricature of a woman. At least, it felt like it. The dresses, the long hair, the nail polish… Everything his little sister enjoyed so much made him feel even worse about himself. He tried to like it, pretended, focused on archery and school when he realised he couldn't. He tried to make his parents proud, to be a good big “sister”.

“You must think of your siblings.”

Why him? Why always him? They have full lives due to his sacrifices. He was selfish once, never asked for anything beyond the strictly necessary. And now, it's been taken away from him.

“You need sustenance,” Robert pleads.

“Should've thought about that before you poisoned me,” Alec says. He'd eat if he were on the right hormones, if he could choose a suit for his wedding and talk to his husband and siblings, if he could walk through the woods or into town freely, pore over a book in the public library or train in the gym. But he's not allowed to. If it's because he's a flight risk or because his muscular frame wouldn't fit into a wedding dress, Alec hasn't managed to figure out yet. Probably both. He wouldn't have the energy to train anyway.

Since his first coming out, Alec has never felt this lacking in motivation. He was foolish to believe his parents would support him if presented with a fait accompli. Deep down, he believed their love would trump tradition and societal pressure. He was naïve. He walked right into their trap.

“Irma made pancakes,” Robert tries once more. “You always loved pancake day at the Institute.”

Alec is surprised that his father even remembers. It was during his early transition days, when he had the righteous hunger of a pubescent boy, living on carbs and protein shakes, gaining muscles and combat skills until he ran rings around the other boys. He grew up in different Institutes, but New York was where he was finally allowed to be himself, where he worked harder than anyone until he was strong and fast enough to level Jace, Maryse's golden boy—paragon, brother, and rival all packed into one. Half of the time Alec wasn't sure if he wanted to be Jace or be with him. Only one was allowed, so he worked even harder, was more obedient and tried to earn his brother's and his parents’ recognition. And he received—higher expectations, more responsibilities, steadily rising standards. And for what? Jace lived through his youth and found his perfect match. Maryse smiled proudly at him when he drew the wedding rune on Clary's wrist. In that moment, Alec realised that his mother had never looked at him like that, and now, she never will.

He won't be the perfect groom, much less a perfect bride. He has no idea what they are planning to do to him to make it look like that in the papers.

“At least take a shower,” his father says in that voice that sounds gentle but is reserved for orders that are expected to be followed. “And a shave.”

Alec still doesn't move. Can't, the darkness pulling him under.

“When you eat, you can read your… Magnus’ letter,” Maryse says from the door. Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. Now, they are using the only silver lining against him.

Just great.

He rolls on his back, the small task of Herculean dimensions. His eyes are full of betrayal when he looks at his parents.

He's still not hungry, but Magnus’ words will nourish him more than pancakes ever could. They'll be a small plaster on a gaping wound, but maybe his husband realised that whatever they texted him weren't Alec's words. Maybe Magnus will signal him that a rescue mission is on its way.

A man can hope.

Chapter Text

My dearest Alexander

I hope my first letter reached you well. I tried to be disciplined and refrain from writing to you before receiving your reply, but here I am, breaking my own rule on day one. I hope you don't mind. I promise I won't smother you when you're finally back.

It's just that my day is filled with a million decisions regarding our big day. Your sister is a great help to me. She's a wonderful person who loves you dearly. I hope with her guidance, I will create festivities that are to your liking.

I will be honest: I'm nervous that I won't. That is new to me, but so are you. There are so many things I don't know about you. Your sister gave me a rough summary of your life, but I want you to fill in the details, paint in the picture, if you will. Maybe we could use these letters to get to know each other more and ask questions?

It feels like I've known you forever. How has it only been three weeks?

Magnus puts down his fountain pen. How indeed? His world was turned upside down by this man. It shouldn't be possible with as little as they've shared. Magnus doesn't even know how to label it. He's always fallen hard and fast, but this feels different. It is different. Alec is going to stay. Forever. Truly for better or for worse.

When Magnus found Camille with another man, his whole world crumbled into pieces. He thought his heart was broken for good. To think that Alec expected his life to be like that, of sharing his wife with someone else…

But not with him. When Alec says yes, it'll be a turning point, a fresh new start. Alec will never be lonely again. Alone if he wishes to be, but never lonely. Because he was, if Isabelle's anecdotes about their childhood and adolescence are to be believed. It comes with being different, Magnus supposes. It's still sad. Magnus didn't grow up with siblings, but he was always surrounded by other children—the children of his fostress, cousins, school mates, acquaintances, dear friends. He knows loneliness, but even in his darkest hours he knew he had people to reach out to. It's not that he always did in the past, but he learnt his lesson with Camille. He'll always trust his friends’ opinion. They didn't like her. Neither did his cat. He should have introduced Alec to them but with the Shadowhunters leaving in a hurry, there was no time. Isabelle had to vouch for her brother. Little Madzie sure did, too, and that's Catarina half-won already.

He should write to Alec about them. Well, more than in his messages that mostly contained pictures of his past travels with them, milestones and other moments caught on camera. Alec sent a few pictures of himself, but they mostly showed a seriously looking teen or twenty-something. There was only one from his 21st birthday where he actually laughed.

Magnus grabs his phone and scrolls back to it. Alec is a beautiful man. Would he object to that notion? If so, for humility or gender reasons? The whole trans thing is completely uncharted territory for Magnus. He should remedy that. But where to start?

With the Chancellor of the Exchequer, is his first thought. But he'd have to out Alec for that, and that's something to be avoided. No, he has to go the traditional route. So he opens reddit. Which leads him into a rabbit hole that he only climbs out of at four in the morning with more knowledge, but a million more questions, too.

With his trusted concealer hiding the dark circles around his eyes, Magnus meets his sister-in-law for breakfast in the sunroom.

“Did you have a good night?” he asks.

“Your spare bed is like sleeping on clouds. I fear my brother won't be able to catch a wink. He's used to sleeping on concrete in comparison.” Isabelle laughs.

“You surely have good mattresses in Idris?”

Isabelle sighs overly dramatic. “My people are soldiers. They're allergic to fun and luxuries.”

“Your generation is different, isn't it?”

“It depends,” she allows.

“On what?”

“On how traditional they were raised. And our spirit, I suppose.” She smirks over her coffee cup.

“I assume your parents were of the traditional kind.”

Isabelle arches an eyebrow. “One could say so. They raised all of us to be warriors for a war that should never come. But we children took very differently to it. I preferred fun and can still wrap my father around my little finger. I enjoyed the New York nightlife, calling it ‘being on patrol’. Jace wasn't much different, his spare time filled with ladies and other kinds of fun. And Max is a spitfire, sometimes literally; he's a nerd, trying to push boundaries, driving my parents nuts with his cleverness and pranks.” She chuckles.

“And Alec?” Magnus enquires.

“Alec, he… he was always good, the best really, obedient and modest. I can't remember a single time he rebelled, save for helping us cover up our mistakes, protecting us from our parents’ wrath. He took more than one beating for us.”

“Literally or…?”

Isabelle's eyes narrow down on a spot on the pristine tablecloth. It's answer enough.

“Corporal punishment has been illegal in Edom for a while,” Magnus says. He was part of the initiative to ban it.

“It's still common in Idris, but not all parents practise it.”

“But your parents did.”

“Not often.”

“You don't have to defend them, Isabelle. Someone willing to hit a defenseless child doesn't deserve it.”

Isabelle nods. “It's just… We were proud when we took it without crying.”

“I bet Alec was the best,” Magnus says, heart aching for the boy he never met. Asmodeus can be cruel, but he never hurt him. Not physically.

“He was,” Isabelle replies quietly.

“Your brother is used to carrying the world on his shoulders, isn't he?”

“He can be fun, too,” Isabelle says as if to defend him.

“He's an honorable man. I appreciate someone who cares for the people around them. He chose his name wisely. Defender of men.”

“He plucked it right from the family tree. I'm not sure if it was to appease our parents. He used to carry an ancestor's name before, you know.”

Magnus hums in acknowledgement. “What kind of names would I have to expect if Alec should keep up the tradition with our children?”

Isabelle's lips curl into a smile. “Well, it starts with something as common as Gabriel or Barbara and ends at Cecily and Rupert.”

“Mmh, not really my style,” Magnus says. “Though, if we should ever be blessed with a girl, I might carry on your family tradition.”

“Your mother's name?” Isabelle guesses.

“Yes,” Magnus breathes. He doesn't dare ask how Idris frames the circumstances of his mother's early demise.

“I am so incredibly sorry for your loss,” Isabelle says with so much sympathy, Magnus’ throat is instantly filled with a lump of emotions.

“Thank you, Isabelle,” he says quietly, not trusting his voice. “They say, ‘Time heals everything,’ but I fear it would take me centuries to forget that agony. Right now, I particularly miss her. In Edom, it's the job of a groom's mother to plan the wedding of her son.”

“And with two men?” Isabelle asks.

Magnus chuckles. “Then, both mothers are involved.”

“I doubt you want my mother to join our wedding planning sessions,” Isabelle says, sounding teasing.

“I don't doubt her taste, but I fear her goodwill is limited.”

Isabelle sighs. “My mother is always skeptical. You should have seen her when Jace brought Clary home. She loves her dearly now, but in the beginning? Phew!”

Magnus hopes Maryse will warm up to him eventually. Alec needs the support of his family. But Magnus counts it as a good sign that they sent Isabelle to help him. They want this to be perfect for their son, too. Which gives him an idea.

“Do you think she would repeat our blessings from our first wedding? The ones my father recited?”

Isabelle's face lights up. “Oh, they were so beautiful! I will ask her. Maybe instead or after the intercessions? I'll talk to the Silent Brothers about it.”

“Why are they called that?” Magnus asks, taking a bite of his French toast.

“They are an order of silence, only speaking and singing during services,” Isabelle replies.

“I could never.” Magnus chuckles.

“Me, neither,” she smirks. “Do you want me to ask Alec anything when I call them?”

It's a titillating offer, but Magnus wants to honour Alec's request. They'll have the rest of their lives to talk.

Chapter Text

“The doctor said you need to take your iron with food,” Maryse says across the breakfast table.

“Who knows if this is even iron. Maybe it's a magical poison, making my breasts grow back,” Alec deadpans. He's always been a sarcastic guy but the past few days, it feels like there's nothing else left of him than that snarky side.

Maryse breathes a sigh. “We don't have time for that kind of alteration, so we chose another option. You actually gave us the idea.”

Alec looks up from his staring match with the buttery croissant his parents got from the best bakery in Alicante. They know they are his favourites. If he were someone who thrived on manipulating other people, his current situation would be a field day. But he isn't. He's simply counting the days until this nightmare is over. But he seems to have handed his parents a knife to torture him with, completely voluntarily.

“How come?” he asks, the smell of hot chocolate with marshmallows taunting him.

“Well, as you put it so bluntly: We don't want your wedding pictures to look like a bad drag show. So it's gonna be a good one.”

Alec swallows hard. What has he done?

“But wedding dress first. I thought you might want to wear mine. When you were a little girl, you said you'd marry in it, one day. You're closer to my height than your sister anyway. It would save you the dress shopping. We'd only need a tailor to adjust it,” Maryse says.

His mother's wedding dress is a dream of lace and satin, high-necked and with long sleeves. Alec supposes there are worse options than that. Still, his empty stomach revolts against it, bile crawling up his throat. But there's no use in fighting this. The goal is to keep the damage to his soul to a minimum. It feels pretty crushed already. Alec will pretend to go as the bride of ‘The Nightmare before Christmas’. He'll look the part for sure, but it's all he can do to manage his dysphoria at least a little bit.

Ever since the last shot, the mirror is his enemy again. On a logical level, Alec knows whatever they injected him with can't be so powerful as to reverse his medical transition in a matter of days. But he feels like it is. It's probably just his brain rebelling against the wrong fuel. After going on testosterone, his mental health had improved even before his body started changing. Now, it seems to be the same in reverse.

“What other nice things do I have to expect?” Alec presses through clenched teeth. He reckons he can deal with them better if he sees them coming.

“Hair extensions and bride hairdo, first shaving then waxing, make-up trials, a family planning course…”

Alec's eyes grow wide in panic.

“Mom!”

“You can't spring all of this on him all at once, Maryse,” Robert protests. Alec snorts a mirthless laugh. It's too late for his father's dosed shocks approach.

“Nia is old enough to handle the truth,” Maryse says.

“Alec will struggle with every single one of these steps. Show a bit of compassion.”

“Compassion would mean letting me get married as the man that I am, Dad.”

Robert breathes a sigh. “The Clave won't allow that.”

“And you're in thrall to the Clave since when? Mom fought for her admission to the Academy when the Clave said women couldn't join. You chose love over duty despite the queen's clear disapproval. Why can't you fight for me?”

Deep down, Alec knows the answer. He doesn't want to hear it but he's already bleeding internally. Maybe they should just open the festering wound and expose it to the air.

Maryse wets her lips. “The Clave has reopened its investigations of former Circle members.”

Alec can't help but frown. “What does that have to do with me?”

His parents share a look. From experience, Alec knows it's never a good sign when they do that.

“Your father and I…” Maryse starts but trails off.

“We were followers of Valentine,” Robert explains. “When we realised he was a false Messiah, we promised to dedicate our lives to the Clave. And we did.”

Alec leans back in his chair. “You were…?” He exhales slowly, too many thoughts running through his mind. His parents were terrorists? His picture-perfect, unyielding parents? He can't wrap his head around that. Everything they taught him about ‘the law is the law’ and ‘rules can be bent but never broken’, were they just born out of remorse and fear?

“Still, why? The Clave owes you so much.”

“It does,” Robert says, “but that doesn't undo what we did due to juvenility. And… humiliating our country on an international level would corrupt our standing even more. We might be exiled from Idris.”

“So be it. You already live in LA, Dad. And Mom could move. You liked New York, right?”

“My assignment to the LA Institute was part of a deal, Alec. Your mother could go to prison. But if we give the Clave what they want…”

“Then she'll go free?” Alec asks.

His mother doesn't meet his eyes when she says, “I know it's a lot to ask. I thought it was better for you to hate me than to sacrifice your happiness of your own free will.”

“So… the deadnaming, the imprisonment and the fact that you're cutting me off from the world was just a game, a pretense?”

“The latter are demands from the Clave,” Maryse says.

Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. “What's in the pills?” he asks.

“A herbal mixture that should help you regain your menstrual cycle,” Maryse replies.

Alec nods. “Asmodeus’ demand… that was real?”

“He expects a pregnancy within the first twelve months after your return,” Robert says.

“And if Magnus and I don't comply?” Alec asks.

“Then he'll annule your marriage.”

“Doesn't Magnus have some say regarding that?”

His parents share another look.

“As we understand it, your husband was involved in that decision right from the start. It's common in Edom culture.”

No! That can't be true! Or is it?

“It's not just one day of pretending to be a woman then, is it? It's nine fucking months!”

“Language,” Robert scolds him gently.

“You're forcing me to give birth, for Heaven's sake. I'm allowed to curse as much as I want, Father.” The pain flickering over Robert's face doesn't feel as satisfying as Alec hoped it would. He feels sick to his bones. This is even worse than he thought.

“You always wanted to have children,” Maryse says, way too gently for Alec's liking. She's not wrong.

“But not like this,” he says under his breath, staring at the pill bottle in front of him.

“I get that this is hard, but…”

“But I can't ruin the family name for good,” Alec mumbles. He shakes his head, willing back the tears that are pricking his eyes. He grabs a croissant and forces a piece into his mouth, washing it down with a gulp of hot chocolate. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the pill bottle. Maryse exhales in clear relief.

“I told you he'd understand,” Robert says.

Of course, he does. If he were to rebel, he'd pull his whole family into misery. In Idris, hereditary sin isn't just a religious concept. Fallen families rarely recover. It's probably due to his parents’ hard work since returning to the Clave that the Lightwood family is even being offered this chance.

He stares at the small pill in his hand.

“I'm doing this for Izzy, Max and Jace,” he says.

“Thank you,” Maryse replies. “You're the best big brother they could hope for.”

“They will smell a rat when they don't hear from me in weeks.”

“They're going to be busy. And they'll receive texts from your phone,” Robert says.

“You'll keep on lying to your own children?”

“This hasn't been in our hands since you stepped out of the crowd, Alec,” Maryse says. “I wish you hadn't.”

So it is his fault. He brought all of this on himself and his family. With a gay son on public display, the reputation his parents built since leaving the Circle has been stained once more. He risked a bloody nose. Now he has to accept the consequences.

Chapter Text

“I thought about ice sculptures in all four corners, the band on a stage over there, and the long table along the West side with natural light and a view over the hillside forest,” Magnus says. Isabelle chuckles warmly.

“And the open space over there?” she asks.

“For dancing, of course.”

“You…?” she trails off.

“What?” Magnus asks. Shadowhunters surely dance at their wedding reception, or don't they?

“So, let me recap this: wedding service at ten, photos after, champagne and cake in the afternoon?”

“And dinner at five. I know it's all a bit early, but we're going to have a midnight buffet.”

“How long are you planning on staying in bed?” Isabelle asks.

“Sunday breakfast will be a private affair. We'll welcome friends and family for tea.”

Isabelle worries her lips.

“What's wrong?”

“You're supposed to consummate your marriage right after the wedding. Then a champagne reception with dinner right after, and off to your honeymoon.”

“Is that how you do it in Idris?”

“Weddings are a rather small affair.”

“I see.” Magnus sucks his teeth. “When do you do the wedding dance?”

“It's not part of our tradition. Though Jace and Clary had theirs during the reception. She grew up in the diaspora, you know.”

Magnus exhales slowly. Their ideas of a proper wedding party seem to be vastly different. What he'd give to pick up the phone and ask Alec for his ideas. But he hasn't even received a reply to his first letter yet, despite already being on his fifth. The Shadowhunters’ postal service must be in shambles if it's taking so long. One would think that a well-organised soldier state such as Idris would deliver things not at a snail's pace. It's the 21st century after all. But well. He has to trust Isabelle to get Alec's okay. They need to decide these things now. Dammit!

“So,” he starts, still moving around the parts of the day he isn't willing to give up on.

“The guests truly wait while the couple…?”

“It's an ancient tradition from a time when most Shadowhunters died young. Better get the bun in the oven earlier than later.”

Magnus huffs a laugh. “My people weren't that much in a hurry, but marriages could be annulled if there wasn't a pregnancy before the first wedding anniversary.”

“That's harsh.”

“It has fallen out of use. Some still claim it when they realise they don't work as a married couple. It's just easier than a common divorce. Because, honestly? Who plans children so early nowadays.”

“Well, no one will check your bed sheet or anything. You can enjoy yourselves in any way you like.” Isabelle smirks.

“Good to know.” Magnus chuckles but the conversation sparks a few ideas he hasn't allowed himself to explore so far. He can't wait to introduce Alec to two-player pleasure. It's exciting, the thought that he is Alec's first. And a huge challenge and responsibility, too. He wants it to be good for Alec.

“Still… if your people are not expecting a long party…” He wets his lips. He doesn't want to affront his sister-in-law, but he has to ask. “Maybe we should do a Shadowhunter party and a Downworlder one.”

A grin grows on Isabelle's lips. “You mean one where the old folks get what they want and one where the young ones get to dance and drink and mingle?”

“Hm.”

Isabelle clearly ponders their options, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“We could mix it up a little. Photos in the afternoon after a tasteful lunch during the reception. It would be natural. You cut the cake, have your first dance and disappear. So it looks like a mix of both traditions. The queen's entourage can part ways after, and you return after taking the photos.”

“Oh, that's brilliant. We could have an outfit change. Something more casual.”

“Yes! Oh, we had that at one of my American friends’ weddings. So cute. We danced all night, barefooted at the end.”

“So, this is it. Wedding first, then an hour break to please your elders. Reception with first dance, lunch and cake, photos, party.” Magnus claps his hands together. “In that case, we should change from one long table to islands of tables filling the whole room for the lunch. And while we're getting our photos taken, we could offer drinks and snacks in the sunroom and prepare the ballroom for the dance.”

“Sounds perfect.”

It does. But… “Do you think Alec will be happy with that?”

“My brother will love it, because he's marrying you.”

Magnus nods. He pushes away the nagging feeling that has been bugging him for days. He's not good at being apart from the person he desires. Not with radio silence. It was Camille's favourite instrument of torture. But this is different. Alec isn't punishing him. He's just preparing for their big day in his own way.

“What is he doing all this time, if you don't mind me asking?”

Isabelle chuckles. “Yesterday, he was working out when I wanted to call him. I bet he's trying to look his best for you.” She grins.

“He does already. Has he always been that slender?” Magnus can't help asking.

Isabelle breathes a sigh. “He doesn't eat when he's nervous or stressed. He… I don't know if it's okay for me to share this…”

Magnus doesn't push but he still hopes she will.

“When he started counselling at the very beginning of his transition, he was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. I think he wanted to get rid of his curves.”

Magnus nods in understanding. “Well, that shouldn't be a problem anymore, right?”

“His appetite is still dependent on his mood, but yes: He's recovered.”

“Good. Because I plan on taking him to the best breakfast, lunch and dinner spots around the world.”

“You'll spoil him rotten. I love that for him. He deserves it.”

Magnus nods in agreement.

“So… lunch must equal a dinner if we do it like this.”

“I have a list with Alec's favourites,” Isabelle says. “It's mostly what he asked for for his past few birthday dinners. I'm sure the palace kitchen can conjure up even better things.”

Magnus takes the paper and studies the courses. “Your brother has taste.”

“Of course. He chose you, Your Royal Highness.” Isabelle snickers.

“You're terrible.”

“I'm just glad that he's getting a dream wedding and a happy ending. At times, I wasn't sure if he'd even see that day.”

Magnus doesn't pry. He read the statistics.

“I'm glad that he can marry for love,” he says as if those numbers hadn't haunted him for days. Did Alec try to take his own life at some point? Is that why his parents agreed to his transition?

“There you are,” a familiar voice pulls him out of his darkening thoughts.

“Ragnor! You made it.”

“I promised you dance lessons, didn't I?”

“Dance lessons?” Isabelle asks.

“I'm not used to being led. But after destroying our first dance I won't repeat my mistake during our first dance. Ragnor is my only male friend who isn't a disaster on the dance floor.”

“That's probably why he's kept me around for so long,” Ragnor quips. “You must be the sister-in-law.”

“Oh, I was being rude. Yes, this is Isabelle Lightwood, Marquise d'Alicante. And this is my dear friend Ragnor Fell, the Dean of Edom's most famous and prestigious Medical School.”

“It's Edom's only medical school,” Ragnor says. “Enchantée, Mademoiselle.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I guess you'll be Magnus’ suggenes?”

“His what?”

“Best man,” Magnus explains.

“Akin, but not the same,” Isabelle corrects him. “Who will lead you to the altar?”

“My father,” Magnus replies. “Do you do that differently?”

“Our parabatai is usually our suggenes. But Alec has none, so I guess it will be one of our parents to mirror your tradition. Jace will be the best man.”

“My groomspeople will be Ragnor, Catarina, Dorothea, and Will.”

“Is it usually four?” Isabelle asks.

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

Isabelle exhales slowly. “We're two people short. We were planning with Jace and I. I mean, I'm sure Max will love to stand beside Alec.”

“Alec surely has a friend or two, no?” Ragnor asks. Magnus can see his friend's red flag alert activating.

“He's…” Isabelle works her jaw. “Andrew, maybe. He was the only one who didn't drop him like a hot potato after he came out.”

“Andrew?” Magnus asks.

“Our only gold Olympian.”

Magnus nods as he remembers. “Blond. He deals in security, right?”

“He's still stationed at the New York Institute. It's where we spent our youth.”

“You're still young, my dear,” Ragnor says.

“Well, this wedding planning will age me several years.” She laughs.

“I'm sure you'll see your anti-aging substance tonight,” Magnus smirks.

“Wh–?”

“Simon is a friend of mine,” Magnus says.

“Edom is a village,” Isabelle chuckles.

“Sometimes, it feels like it,” Ragnor agrees.

“I won't keep you away from him for very much longer,” Magnus promises.

“Spending time with you is a pleasure,” Isabelle replies.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Chapter Text

“Here,” Alec says and hands his letter to Maryse. “Will you play the censor or someone else?”

Maryse has the decency to look ashamed as she takes the clean copy of the words that took Alec a whole day to put to paper. Not that he had other things to do, save for looting his mother's vinyl stock and learning words which he still doesn't know how to pronounce properly because his old laptop was the only device that could still play discs in their household. His father offered to chase down a CD player. How very generous of him.

“I don't know who is responsible for that,” Maryse replies, “but I trust that you haven't written about…” she trails off.

“The fact that I'm a prisoner in my own home, that you pumped me full of oestrogen, and that you're making me play a bride on my own wedding day?”

Yes, he might have chosen to follow through with their plan. That doesn't mean he can't be snarky about it.

“Alec,” Maryse breathes. “Some things are more important.”

“Yeah. What's two months of incarceration against what…?” He arches his eyebrow in a silent question.

His mother sets her jaw. “I could get twenty years.”

“Twenty…? What the hell did you do?”

“Alec… That was a long time ago.”

“And I'm paying the price for it today. Don't you think I deserve to know for what exactly?”

Maryse looks at him for a long moment before she puts his letter on her large wooden desk. She sits down behind it, looking down at Alec's writing, eyes unfocussed.

“Back in the days of the Circle, I was convinced that Valentine had all the answers.”

“That's hardly a punishable offense.”

She nods. “The charge is for high treason and membership in a terrorist organisation. I was involved in the agitations regarding ‘Operation Dawn’ which you likely know by the name Crimson Monday,” she explains, her voice unusually quiet. Alec swallows hard. He can count the times he's seen his mother visibly ashamed on the fingers of one hand. Never was he witness to that embarrassed, devastated look on her face.

“C–crimson Monday?” he presses out. It was the Circle's downfall, but Valentine and his group of radicals killed many people, women, men, and children.

“I wasn't one of those who executed the plans,” Maryse continues, “but I was still part of Valentine's inner circle when material was purchased in preparation for it. I recruited new members, one of them your father. At the time, I was radicalised, couldn't believe that the Clave was willing to make peace with our archenemies. When I realised that the Circle wasn't just a movement to liberate the occupied areas of Idris but an organisation set on killing every single Downworlder on the planet, I got out. I tried to warn the Clave. Together, we could stymie some of the attacks, but I didn't know enough to prevent them all. Your father went back to get more intel. But I… I couldn't, because I was…”

“...pregnant with me,” Alec ends her sentence.

“Yes.”

Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. So this is his price for being alive. His mother didn't return and collect penance points to protect her unborn child, to protect him. Different from his father. That's why Robert got a deal, and Maryse… So many things make sense now.

“You offered Izzy up for marriage to prove that you broke with your past beliefs regarding the people of Edom,” Alec says.

Maryse nods. “I joined Valentine hoping to build a better world for my children. I understand now that only peace between our peoples can guarantee a future where I can watch my grandchildren grow up.”

Grandchildren.

The nausea that always pulls Alec's stomach tight whenever he thinks of that part of the deal is back with a vengeance. Would he still have stepped out of the crowd if he knew the consequences? Alec isn't so sure anymore.

But then, he thinks of Magnus’ letters, copied and partially blacked out by a Clave minion and still so full of the warmth and esprit Alec learnt to love so quickly. He doesn't know why they even bother hiding things from him. It's not as if anything remotely revealing of his current situation would ever reach Magnus. Alec tried to give him a hint that their correspondence isn't private, but he isn't sure if he'll get it. Will the Clave return his letter if the censor understands the secret hidden in his ‘favourite’ poem? They can hardly blacken out parts of his side of the correspondence. Or will they simply not pass it on? Magnus would grow suspicious if he didn't receive any letters from Alec, wouldn't he?

Which texts do they send Izzy, who surely wants Alec's input? Do they keep up with his and Jace's daily banter? Has his brother even time for it or has Jace already forgotten him over his duty and the thrill of a new city?

Alec always thought of himself as a bit antisocial, but now that he is cut off from those he trusts and loves, he realises how much these small points of contact in his everyday life meant to him.

If he could just talk with someone about how much the thought of pregnancy is terrifying him. Or about his worries that Magnus will grow to resent him. Or that his husband will leave him standing at the altar, annulling their marriage right away. Alec wouldn't blame him. He's grossed out by the mental images his brain conjures up. People will laugh at him, but that, he can ignore. Worse would be Magnus looking at him in disgust or – the worst option of all – that he likes what he sees better than the real deal.

Magnus plans to knock him up as soon as possible. A pregnant wife would be easier to sell to the public than a pregnant husband. Either way, there won't be any intimate togetherness, no honeymoon extension when they're back to Edom. Instead, there will be ovulation tests and fertility pills, scheduled sex and…

Alec gets stuck on that thought. He wishes Magnus hadn't been so considerate. If they had already slept together, all of this wouldn't be so daunting. But it is.

“Your union will establish peace for generations to come,” Maryse cuts through his thoughts.

“What if I fail?” Alec croaks.

Maryse wets her lips. “Failing is not an option, Alec. You'll make the prince royal happy. I know you will.”

“You think?” Alec asks, pressing his chin forward.

“Just… let him lead. Men don't like it when…” She huffs a laugh. “I guess you know better than me. But… be his rock and concentrate on supporting him. Your father and I, we lost that over time, each one fighting our own battles but only rarely alongside each other. You must be wiser.”

Alec nods. “Did you give Jace the same advice?”

Maryse doesn't answer that question.

“Or would you tell Izzy that?” Alec probes.

“You're married to a future king. The world will look at you two closely. You're the first… openly queer couple that high in the line of succession. Not everyone will support that.”

“Like my own people?”

“All I'm saying is: You'll be under a magnifying glass. Be the best husband you can be. Be cautious with whom you talk about personal things. Unspoken words can't be spread or twisted.”

Alec huffs a laugh. He's good at keeping things in. He's probably perfected it already. It's lonely, though.

“You may not believe me, Alec, but all I want is for you to be happy. And if that is in a queer relationship… Your father is right. Just because I don't understand it, doesn't make it wrong.”

Alec brushes away a tear that made it through his control, his throat suddenly dry as the desert.

“I… I've never expected happiness to be part of my life, Mom.”

Maryse quirks a sad smile. “I'm sorry for whatever part I played in making you believe that.”

Alec shrugs. What is there left to say? If he and Magnus survive their wedding day as a couple, there still might be some happiness left for him. But with every passing day, Alec's hope is dimming. Magnus could have anyone, but instead he'll get half a man, the son of someone who planned the demise of his people at that. It's probably the first thing to keep from his husband. Alec isn't an expert for relationships, but he doubts that keeping secrets from your partner is the healthiest foundation for a long lasting, good relationship. But he can't stop being loyal to his family. It's his last token of love, a secret he'll take to his grave.

Chapter Text

“Please, tell me you'll make a dancer out of my brother,” Isabelle says as she slumps down on the chaise longue in the living room in Magnus’ private quarters.

“Well, if Alec is open to it,” he allows. He does hope that Alec will find joy in it, eventually. Every ex-partner of his, who didn't like dancing, got jealous of him sharing his love for it with others, immediately or over time.

“You haven't taken him for a spin yet?” Dot asks, surprise clear on her face. When she and Magnus were together, dancing was a weekly affair. She never was as good as Etta, but who could reach the heights of a professional stage artist such as her? He surely won't expect the same from Alec, but swaying to music after dinner or before lying down in the same bed? That sounds like heaven with a capital H. Alec might just be the type for that.

“Well, Alec is good at ballroom dances,” Magnus says, nursing the third glass of his favourite red.

“I remember when we had lessons before our parabatai ceremony,” Isabelle says, chuckling. “Jace groaned half of the time because he had to practise with both of us.”

“How come?” Dot asks. Magnus stares at Isabelle, who pulls her lips into an easy smile.

“Because Alec needed extra help.”

It's a good save, or the truth. It must be difficult not to out one's relatives after transitioning. There are simply actions that are still reserved for men or women, no matter how many brave people have broken gender rules before. It's still comforting to know that his friends still give the yellow press a pass. Otherwise, Dot would know.

“Well, Magnus is the best dancer in all of Edom. If one can teach a man with two left feet, then, it is him. Though, I suspect your brother is practising for their wedding dance, isn't he?” Dot asks.

“Well, he has a pretty tight schedule filled with lots of things preparing him for everything ahead,” Isabelle replies. “Some things are surprises, but I haven't managed to get him on the phone due to it.”

“Not even for a minute?” Magnus asks.

Isabelle shrugs. “That's how he is. When he was preparing for his first bachelor degree, we didn't talk for three whole months.” She chuckles. “The likes of us get lost in a virtual rabbit hole; Alec gets lost in library books and physical training. He's a very passionate, single-focused man.”

“Sounds like a good match for our Magnus,” Simon smirks and hands Isabelle one of his famous Bloody Marys. Isabelle pulls her bare feet under herself to make room for him. Magnus smiles at the young couple, another good Downworlder/Shadowhunters match in the making. Magnus can't help but be a little jealous. It's moments like this when he misses Alec the most, the yearning catching him off guard. Most of the day, he manages to keep himself busy, and when the day runs out, he fills his evenings with friends and fun. But when everything is calming down, the feeling returns. He wants to put his arm around Alec's shoulder like Simon does with Isabelle. He wants to make him laugh, introduce him to his friends, and see him relaxing in their easy company.

‘Soon,’ he tells himself.

“Sir?” Helen calls for his attention.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Please forgive me the interruption, but you just received a letter from the Marquis of Alicante.”

The whistling of his friends and future sister-in-law makes Magnus roll his eyes, but he's at Helen's side just a moment later, giddy excitement bubbling up in his stomach.

“Thank you, Helen. I'll be back in a moment,” he excuses himself and hurries with the letter to his bedchamber. He opens the envelope as soon as he reaches his desk. He unfolds the beautiful stationery, Alec's initials greeting him in gold at the top. He wonders briefly what the G stands for. Isabelle mentioned the name Gabriel. It does have a nice ring to it—Alexander Gabriel Lightwood-Bane. Unusual for royals, Magnus has no middle name, but he looks forward to carrying a hyphenated family name. If Alec agrees to it. Magnus proposed it in his last letter. But he'll hardly find a reply to that in Alec's. Magnus sent it off just this morning.

Your Royal Highness, the letter starts. Magnus frowns at the formality of it and the fact that it is written with a typewriter. But maybe Alec's handwriting is terrible, who knows?

I was advised to address you as such. It has a nice ring to it: my husband, the Prince Royal. Like something straight from a history book. We'll make history, won't we? You and I, my Lord.

Magnus smiles to himself. He didn't expect Alec to be that playful. Not so early on. But maybe their entanglement freed him. It's a sweet thought.

It's wonderful to hear about all the preparations for our wedding day. Isabelle shares all your beautiful ideas with me. I'm sure they will be festivities both our nations will remember with pride.

They're trying, at least.

I must inform you that Idris will take care of my wedding outfit, so if you can stop your order for the suits, do so. Your designs are lovely, but probably a bit fulsome for a Shadowhunters wedding.

Magnus bites his bottom lip. It was too much. His ideas were too much. But well, he'll just seek Alec's input in the future. Or give him a clothing budget? The Edom court is a rather stylish one. Alec will probably need support in that area.

Your descriptions of my own quarters were lovely and the offer generous and wise. I'm sure you are a very busy man, and I wouldn't want to keep or distract you from your duties. If you would let me know which obligations you want me to perform in the future, I could prepare for them now. The expertise I've collected in the past will likely not fit the position of your spouse. But I am willing to learn and work hard to represent Edom and you as best as possible.

Magnus breathes a sigh. This man is all duty. Where are his replies to questions about hobbies and wishes, where is his choice for their honeymoon? It's as if he weren't interested in building a foundation until he's back in Edom.

I had a medical examination to prove my health, and I'm happy to inform you that nothing stands in the way of whichever future endeavors you have on your mind.

Is that his reply to Magnus’ questions? Is he up for everything? It's good to know that Alec is in good health, but the letter leaves Magnus a little speechless. Is he married to someone who has no sense for romance? Or can Alec simply not imagine what it is like to be wooed, to receive things solely for joy, not because anyone else is profitting from involving him?

Magnus’ eyes get stuck on Alec's farewell expression for a long while.

Yours devotedly,
A.

Alec had kissed him devotedly after the ritual. This letter, however, doesn't feel very intimate. Maybe it's just the separation. Alec surely has no practise in writing romantic or frivolous letters, either. Maybe he thinks, this is how it's done. Or the counsellors Idris sent to him made him doubtful how to approach something that seems so fallen out of time.

‘I'm but a low royal compared to you.’ That's what Alec said when they first met. Maybe the whole married-to-a-future-king thing has caught up on him. It wouldn't be the first time that that fact sinking in changed Magnus’ relationship to his partners. But he tries not to read too much into this letter. Alec surely will take up a more modern, relaxed approach soon. This is his reply to letter number one. Magnus was a little stiff in that one, too, he supposes. And Alec is different to everyone Magnus has ever dated. Maybe that's it. Magnus hasn't gotten to court him the way he's used to. But soon enough, he will, and Alec will be the happiest husband in the world. Or the second happiest? Magnus smiles to himself. He's sure, Alec is full of surprises, too.

Chapter Text

“Alec,” Maryse's voice comes through the bathroom door. “Are you done yet?”

Alec pushes the tip of his tongue against the inside of his front teeth. No, he isn't. Never will be.

“Mr Vate will be here any minute.”

“I doubt that's his name, Mom,” Alec says, rolling his eyes. Ms Ella Vate. Alec still can't believe that the Clave hired a drag queen to make him pass as a woman. And for some reason, it's important for him to shave his chest. He's tried several times to put the razor to his skin, but he's not as strong as he thought he would be.

Magnus has a hairless chest. Many men have. It's not as if the hair makes the man, but it was one of the biggest joys and a constant source of gender euphoria since starting testo, seeing his body hair change. But Ms Vate will bring a breast shield that will be glued to his torso, and body hair isn't advisable, s/he said.

“Don't forget your arms and hands,” Maryse says. “It will show through the lace.”

“It's just the fitting, Mom.”

“We don't want to scare away the tailor. Hurry up!”

Alec stares himself down in the mirror. Why did he agree to this? Well, he knows why. He simply managed to suppress any thoughts of the implications for the past two weeks. But now, it's getting real, something that he won't be able to ignore.

By now, he's used to the depressive lethargy that has claimed his body again. It's the hormones. He knows it is. And the hopelessness of his situation. Magnus’ letters are the only redeeming feature in all of this. Whoever is screening them has stopped bothering blacking out anything. Or maybe the person responsible changed? Either way, reading them is boon and bane of him just the same. Magnus writes about his day, asks questions that Alec can't answer without starting to cry. He hates it. He used to be the best at holding in tears. Maybe he shouldn't listen to so much opera. It's all dramatic and emotional. But Magnus loves it, and Robert was so happy when Alec asked for records by Maria Callas.

His father's guilt is palpable whenever they are in the same room. His mother keeps her stiff upper lip, at least. That's easier to bear. She believes they're doing the right thing. It's hard to pretend that there is some rhyme and reason to this farce when someone clearly thinks it's not. So Alec voices his requests and tries to avoid spending time with his father as much as possible.

Alec hears the doorbell ring and breathes a sigh. He spreads the shaving foam over his chest and on his armpits and starts shaving, only looking at his reflection. It feels surreal, the way the body he worked so hard on creating changes into a stranger.

His hands work of their own accord, leaving a few cuts in their way. Alec barely feels them, his head growing more and more empty with every passing minute.

He doesn't really know how he dressed himself or how he made it down the stairs when he enters the living room. All he knows is that a tall man welcomes him with a sweet smile.

“You must be the lucky bride,” he says. “I'm happy to meet you, Alex. My name is Tom.”

Alec nods and shakes the man's hand. He stares at his own when they let go. His mother said they would wax them before the wedding. It already looks strange. Without Magnus’ wedding gift around his wrist, Alec would think it wasn't his.

He feels funky. His head isn't straight. He'd laugh if he felt anything. But he doesn't. Maybe it's a superstate of numbness. Alec is fine with it. He has no energy for small talk anyway. But Tom doesn't seem to struggle with filling the silence as he explains to them how the breast shield works and which make-up he's planning to put on Alec.

Maryse sends him back upstairs to shave his face. Alec follows her order, cutting himself more often than usual. He stares at the blood dropping into the sink for a long moment.

“Alec?! Our guest is waiting,” Maryse's voice comes through the bathroom door once more. She lets out a big sigh when he opens it, several shreds of tissue paper plastered over his face. She doesn't say anything—or maybe Alec simply doesn't hear her. Tom's voice is just a low hum without semantic meaning.

He must talk about the make-up as he lays out his brushes and products. Alec closes his eyes, trying to imagine Magnus in his place, happily chatting with the professional, exchanging tips and tricks to have a flawless finish. Alec loves the way Magnus’ make-up accentuates his expressive eyes, how his lips shine in the right light, inviting and full.

“What do you think, Alex?” Tom asks, penetrating the fog around Alec's mind just so. Alec can't form an answer, not sure what the man wants from him.

“You are an artist,” Maryse gasps. “You've never been so pretty, Nia.”

The slip throws Alec rudely back to reality. He sees his reflection in the mirror Tom is holding in front of him. He feels sick to his bones. This must be a trick. This can't be his face. He only closed his eyes for a short moment.

“Nia. What a lovely name. Did you choose it yourself?” Tom asks.

“No. My parents. Eugenia was an ancestress.”

“Oh, that's lovely. I thought… It still needs a bit of adjustment, huh? I'm so sorry for deadnaming you earlier. It was the name I was told.”

Maryse swallows hard. “I'll leave you to it. Please, get him dressed until the tailor arrives at four p.m.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Tom says, clearly confused about her abrupt departure. “How long have you been out?” he asks conversationally.

“Five years next February.”

“And she's still struggling with your name and pronouns?” Tom clicks his tongue. Alec is too confused to make sense of his words. “Well… Let's get these babies on you, shall we?”

Alec nods, eyeing the breast shield that Tom takes out of the package. Alec pulls his shirt over his head, the fabric gliding over his shaved skin. It feels disgusting. This is all wrong.

Tom turns back to him, stopping still in his tracks when he sees Alec's chest. He gapes at him.

“You… I thought…” he presses out.

Alec frowns at him.

“Shit! I thought you were MTF not FTM. Are you… detransitioning?” Tom asks.

Alec swallows hard. He supposes he is. He shrugs. It's impossible to explain this to anyone who didn't grow up here.

“You want me to put this on you?” Tom asks.

“It's for the dress fitting,” Alec presses out.

“I'm so sorry… Alex?”

“It's Alec. And thank you. Just do your job. My mom will be back soon. Don't want to get you in trouble.”

Tom nods and starts working. Alec focusses on the hands of the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. Different from earlier, time passes like molasses now.

“See it as a big show. It's just one day,” Tom says as he closes the buttons on the back of Maryse's wedding dress. Alec can't remember getting into it.

“You're a gay man, right?” Alec asks. Tom nods. “How would you feel if you were forced to marry a woman? It's just one day, right?”

Tom bites his bottom lip. “Does your fiancé expect a wife?”

“No. My husband—” Alec cuts himself off as he sees his mother standing in the doorway.

“You remember the NDA you signed, Mr Vate?” she asks.

“Y–yes, Your Grace.”

“Good. I must say you outdid yourself. I didn't have much hope with all the muscles my son had built.”

“Lace has the property of making contours soft,” Tom says.

“Indeed,” Maryse replies, quirking a sad smile. She takes a picture. “For the Clave,” she explains.

Alec nods. Whatever.

“You'll look pretty when your hair is done,” Maryse states.

Alec wants to scoff and snark at her that that was always his vision for his wedding day. But he has no energy for that, his grasp on reality slipping from his fingers again. He just has to survive till bedtime.

Chapter Text

Magnus stares at the empty sheet of paper in front of him. He's not sure what to write. Alec's letters have gotten a bit more communicational, for lack of another word, but they are still rather bland. Was he mistaken thinking he had found a kindred soul? He doesn't expect Alec to be like him, doesn't want him to be. But there are just so many topics one can open and not get a proper reply to.

Maybe he should just stop writing altogether. It's been six weeks of trying to get to know his husband better, but maybe Alec isn't one to write freely from the heart. It had taken Magnus a bit of effort to crack him open in real life, too. Maybe Alec is immune to him without physical presence.

He should ask Isabelle for advice, but he doesn't want to put pressure on Alec. Isabelle said he sounded tired when she finally got him on the phone last week. How would he feel if he knew that Magnus wasn't happy with how he communicates? They can work on that for the rest of their lives, right?

Magnus can only imagine the way Alec is primed for their big day and his life after. Teeth-gnashingly, Magnus had sent a list of duties for the future prince consort. That was the only time Alec asked more questions. The rest were just ‘whatever you likes’ and ‘whatever you think bests’.

Magnus knows that Alec has opinions and ideas of his own. His worldview might be a little screwed. He seemed open enough, however. But his letters paint the picture of a bureaucrat, who is allergic to fun and sees their marriage as one of convenience. Yes, technically, it's arranged, but they shared something profound, didn't they?

Magnus has the urge to ask if Alec regrets it but that would be selfish and born out of his own insecurities. And it's a done deal anyway. They have to make it work, whichever way.

He puts the fountain pen back on its tray and moves to his bed. Maybe tomorrow, he'll find words to put to paper.

Alec stares at the blood on the toilet paper. He feels paralysed. He knew this was coming, and still.

Getting his period when he was twelve was the worst. His mother said it wasn't a big deal, but it was for him. Jace made a face when he found Alec's pads in the shared children's bathroom. It was when he started to treat Alec differently. He didn't know better.

And now, this thing that separated Alec from the other boys is back.

Alec manages to unfreeze after a very long time. He rummages through the bathroom cabinet, but with Izzy long moved out, there is nothing in it that could save him. So he pulls up his shorts and walks over to his mother's bedroom. He knocks, waiting for her approval to enter.

“What's the matter?” she asks, sitting on her bed with reading glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“I need pads,” Alec presses out, shame and disgust reddening his cheeks.

“Your cycle is back?” Maryse asks. Alec nods. “That's good news,” she says, probably as neutral as she can muster. Alec supposes it is. With the wedding only a week away, he might be with child soon. He'd rather not think about it.

“I only have tampons,” Maryse says as she gets up. As much as Alec hates seeing period blood, this option is actually worse. He tries to get his face under control while his mother disappears in the bathroom

“Can't you get me pads?” he asks, his voice quivering.

“You can put it on the shopping list,” Maryse says, handing him a new package in a size that makes Alec's stomach turn. He'll never be able to get those in.

“No. I mean now, Mom,” he tries. “Tampons… they don't agree with me.”

Maryse rolls her eyes. “Just put it in properly. You'll get used to them.”

“It's not that, Mom.”

“Alec. It's late. I won't go to the store and buy you pads now.”

“I could get them myself.”

That just earns him an annoyed look. So he takes the offered tampons and bids goodnight. Back in the bathroom, he tries his best to relax. He's older now. Maybe teenage him was simply too tense for this. And very soon, the size of a tampon will be the least of his problems.

And still, it takes him a good thirty minutes to get it in. In the end, he uses force. It hurts, the foreign object a constant reminder of his anatomy. He's too tight. Way too tight. Maybe he should get a sedation for his first time. Or he could get very, very drunk. It probably won't take much. He's not used to drinking alcohol beyond a single glass of wine or champagne at once.

‘Don't be a wimp,’ the rational part of his brain screams at him, but the dysphoria roars even louder. This body is a nightmare he just can't wake up from. And Magnus will use it for his pleasure.

Or won't he? Maybe he expects more in his pants than Alec has to offer. He remembers Jace's question if he'd get ‘all the surgeries’ too well. As if he could a) afford them and b) step out of duty several times. Even his top surgery was hard to come by. It took him several years to save up for it. It's part of why he doesn't have friends. No college kid likes someone who's always ‘too broke’ to go out for a burger, the movies, or a drink. Especially when you're supposed to swim in money as a royal. As if.

His classmates thought he was boring and uptight. He probably was, but he couldn't share the things that made him interesting. He couldn't talk about archery. He couldn't talk about his service, in fear of people digging up early transition photos of him. It all sounds like weak excuses now, but it was how he felt. He was in constant fear of being outed. Living stealth was a blessing and a curse.

He's back to square one, however. His vagina protests against the intrusion, the constant ache making it impossible to sleep. For a moment, he considers just taking out the tampon and bleeding freely. He can handle a little blood. He's watched people die, for heaven's sake. But soiling the sheets would be inconsiderate, and if anything, Alec was raised not to be a nuisance to the world.

Just as well that Magnus doesn't get to witness him like this. He'd probably send a servant to get pads if he didn't have any left from his past girlfriend. He'd bring him chocolate and tea, a hot water bottle and ice cream. Which is a nice thought. But he'd see and treat him as a woman then. Alec knows it's only a matter of weeks or months until Magnus’ view will shift anyway, but he wants this, as long as it'll last.

He wants Magnus to remove his make-up with gentle hands at the end of their wedding day and get the extensions out of his hair. He wants him to strip him off his clothes and ignore the changes forced on his body. He wants to hear that he's handsome and the man of his dreams. It's a lot to ask and unlikely to happen, but fantasies are all Alec has left to survive on.

Chapter Text

In the morning, Alec feels like waking up from a bad dream, his awareness fragmented and hazy. For a long moment, he can pretend that this is, in fact, a dream, but then, his hand brushes over his chest as he turns on his back, and the ice cold hand of panic closes around his heart.

His body is freshly waxed, his head hair longer than he's ever worn it when he was still living in girl mode. The thought of brushing it out of his face makes him nauseated. So he screws his eyes shut and lets himself drown in the fog that has been his friend for quite a while. It's like unfocussing his eyes. Things hurt less there. Nice things feel less lovely, too. But Alec is a wanderer. Maybe he's cracked the code. Or his brain. It's not as if Alec is in control, but for once, he's fine with that.

He should be thrilled anyway. Only 48 more hours, and he'll be getting married. It's been a long two months. He can't remember half of it, his brain too sluggish to hold on to time and memories. Last week was the worst. If he felt like a ghost before, he's a zombie now. He avoids every mirror in the house, and boy, are there many.

But he's come so far. He survived. And he managed to pull himself together for one last message to Magnus. He put all his heart in it. He hopes it makes Magnus smile, makes him remember where they started being ‘a thing’. Alec just hopes what they've shared will be enough to get through their wedding day, to please both royal houses, his parents, and Magnus. Maybe the two of them will manage to laugh about it at night, all cuddled up in Magnus’ bed, when this nightmare will finally be over. For the time being, at least. It's going to be fine. It has to be. How did his mother put it? Failing is not an option.

“Is Alec having a bachelor party?” Magnus asks over the loud music.

“Stop thinking about your husband. This is your last night of freedom,” Maia says from behind the bar.

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Marriage doesn't have to be a prison, my dear.”

“Jace wanted to organise one,” Isabelle replies, “but he's too busy in L.A. I'm sure he'll share some wise words, from husband to husband,” she smirks.

Magnus can feel Ragnor's eyes on him. Alec has collected a few red flags over the past two months, he'll give Ragnor that. But if his friend had met him, he'd be less suspicious. Not everyone is a social butterfly, and Alec is a good man. Magnus can feel it in his bones, despite everything.

This week, Alec actually sent him a really sweet postcard, mentioning that he loved Maria Callas’ rendition of Puccini's Madama Butterfly, unbeknownst to him, one of Magnus’ favourite operas. The message was short and sweet, and handwritten for once, the postcard showing a sunset over Lake Lynn. It was a lovely throwback to their time at the beach and their first kiss after. Maybe, Alec is a romantic after all.

When Magnus dares to look at his old friend, he finds Ragnor looking past him with a stoney expression on his face. Magnus follows his gaze, his stomach clenching in instant revulsion.

“What is she doing here?! This is a private event,” he hisses to Raphael.

“I'll take care of her,” he says but Magnus stops him with a hand on his arm. He chucks down his drink and straightens his jacket. He'll kick her out himself.

“Who is she?” Isabelle asks.

“Camille de Belcourt,” Simon says. “One of Magnus' big exes.”

Magnus gives him a stern look. Isabelle doesn't need to know how broken Camille left him, that he had already bought the jewellery to have the wedding ritual with. The necklace would suit Isabelle perfectly. Maybe he should give it to her in thanks for the help she was in preparing the wedding of his dreams. But first, he'll need to make sure that Alec won't have to enter this marriage with the ghost of loves past haunting them.

Magnus walks through the club, outwardly confident. He has no reason not to be, despite his heart violently beating against his ribcage. Still, he doesn't doubt that Camile came to cause a scandal. But he won't give her one. He has Alec now, his husband giving him strength from afar.

“Camille. I can't remember putting you on the guest list,” he greets her.

“Isn't a bachelor's party meant to be the caesura between your past life and your new one?” Camille asks, her voice as sweet as sugar.

“Regarding us, I think the caesura was me finding you in bed with that Russian. Oddly, I haven't missed you.”

Camille shrugs as if that hadn't been one of Magnus’ most devastating moments in his life.

“Of course you have, my love,” she coos.

“I thought I was done with you,” Magnus all but spits.

“We'll never be done with each other.” She says it so matter-of-factly. There once was a time when Magnus would have believed her. But Alec broke the spell, or he will in the future, at least. Camille's venom won't poison his marriage.

“What do you really want, Camille?”

“I wanted a proper goodbye before you finally tie the knot.”

Magnus doesn't have the time to analyse what she might mean when she grabs him and presses her lips on his. He pushes back a moment later, fuming.

“What the hell?!” he shouts, people taking a closer look now. Magnus doesn't care. He just watches as Raphael and Ragnor take Camille between them and escort her to the exit. Her bright, triumphant grin tells Magnus that this isn't over yet. Camille always comes for seconds, like a blood-thirsty vampire. But he won't bleed for her anymore.

He scans the room for cameras and phones, but everyone seems to be just as shocked as him. Most of all, Isabelle. He looks at her apologetically. If he finds the one responsible for letting Camille in, heads will roll.

“I'm sorry. Please, don't tell Alec. There's nothing to be worried about,” he tells his sister-in-law when he returns to the bar.

“I won't,” Isabelle promises. The ‘it would break his heart’ hangs unspoken between them. Magnus feels guilty despite himself. He should have never let Camille into his life in the first place. But that's not a new insight.

“I'll put her on the red list,” Magnus says.

“You haven't yet?” Catarina asks, flabbergasted.

“That has severe consequences,” Magnus mumbles and orders a refill.

“Well, she deserves them,” Simon says. “No one abusing the prince royal should have access to an audience with the King.” Magnus knows he's right. But Camille is the unofficial leader of the House DuMort. She hasn't been in Edom much since their breakup, however. Magnus should have known that the news of his nuptials would reach her no matter where she was staying the moment it was announced.

“Let's dance,” Isabelle says and takes his hand. “It's the best way to get rid of stress.”

Magnus checks on himself. Isabelle is right. He is all tensed up.

“Maybe I should just call it a day,” he replies, checking the time. It's past midnight. His friends and acquaintances can entertain themselves.

“I'll come with you,” Isabelle says. “Only 33 hours,” she singsongs.

Magnus chuckles. “The countdown has started. I can't wait to see your brother again.”

“Same. I can't believe I didn't manage to fly home all those weeks.”

“Well, planning a royal wedding isn't a small feat.”

“You sure you're okay?” Catarina asks.

“Yes, my dear. Raphael will make sure that every guard knows her face. Nothing and no one will spoil our big day.”

Chapter Text

“And they all just swallowed it?” Alec asks.

Robert works his jaw. Alec hasn't missed that his father doesn't manage to look him in the eyes anymore.

“They don't have reason to question it.”

Alec nods. He played his part in that, prepared for it without even knowing. If he had been more open with his siblings in the past, if he hadn't talked with Isabelle the other day… he could have said something, but his sister was so clearly excited about his wedding, how could he break her heart?

No. The dice is cast. That he won't arrive a day early still comes as a surprise to him. ‘Technical problems with the queen's aeroplane.’ That's bullshit, of course. They just don't want his siblings to blow up the plan before they make it to the temple.

There was that silly idea in Alec's head that Magnus wouldn't be able to resist seeing him before the wedding service, discover what happened and make things right. But that tiny hope has crumbled into dust. Alec will walk down the aisle, and his fate will be sealed, for better or for worse.

A last night in his own bed, a last night in a house that should be home but has turned into a prison. One last dinner with his parents. He knows he won't ever return, unless Magnus sends him back with his tail between his legs.

Alec presses back against the tears pricking his eyes. What will be, will be.

“Is that a bad sign?” Magnus asks.

Catarina chuckles. “It's the queen's airplane. They'll make sure they bring your hubby in time.”

“He'll have to rise up early.”

“He probably can't sleep anyway,” Catarina smirks.

Magnus quirks a smile. The thought is kinda sweet: Alec lying in his bed, all giddy and nervous with anticipation, incapable of sleeping. It's not as if Magnus wouldn't feel the same. He's buzzing. As he should. Before their first wedding, he didn't know that it would be Alec who he'd be handfasted to. But this time, he does.

His eyes go to Alec's postcard pinned to the mirror of his vanity table. It's such a small thing but it lets him forget all the unanswered questions. Alec still has the means to enchant him. Magnus knows the words by heart by now and has listened to the same record as Alec on repeat. It made him feel connected somehow.

He's booked a Christmas trip to New York already. Alec surely will enjoy showing him around and going to the Met with him. Magnus has never been to the Big Apple but Alec spent his formative years there if Isabelle is to be believed. It will be nice either way.

“Do you think I'll be a good husband?” he asks.

“I have no doubt. Do you?”

Magnus huffs a mirthless laugh. “My father hasn't exactly been a good role model.”

“You're not your father, Magnus. And different from your mother, Alec wants to marry you. He chose you.”

Magnus nods. Catarina is right. On paper, their marriage is an arranged one, but Alec has stolen his heart. Maybe that is why Magnus has felt so off since his departure. He's missed his other half. Magnus smiles to himself. Not even Camille could kill the romantic in him.

“He did,” Magnus whispers. For once, someone chose him.

“Alec?” Robert says, tugging on his son's hand.

“Hm?”

“We're here.”

Alec blinks several times, but his head is all fuzzy. He looks at the crowd on both sides of the steps leading up to the temple. On one side, he sees people happily waving flags with the angelic rune. On the other side, it's a mix of Edom's red flag and a sea of rainbows. Alec's head goes stone cold sober in an instant. These people are expecting a groom.

“I… I can't,” he stutters.

“It's only a few steps, Alec.”

“There are photographers.”

“Of course, there are. This is what it's all about,” Robert says, eyes widening in panic.

Alec was probably delusional. He somehow thought that the Clave would be wise enough to arrange his arrival in a way that no one would see him like this, save for the wedding party. Idris’ media would plaster their official wedding picture all over the place, and the country would soon forget he ever existed. But these people will see him. These photographers will send his picture around the world even before Magnus has the chance to say, “I do.”

“This is insane,” Alec says.

Robert hums noncommittally. “You're right. But this is the Clave's demand, and we have to follow.”

“Don't they see how this will be spun?”

“The Clave would rather pretend Edom turned you against our values than to recognise that trans people exist. It's their decision, not ours. We are just the executive body.”

Alec scoffs. “We.”

Robert breathes a sigh. “You are more courageous than I ever was. I knew your mother wasn't the right match for me. I should've gone for love, too.”

Alec swallows hard. Love. Magnus is waiting up there. For him.

“Maybe he'll resent me after this.”

“You have a lot to offer, son. Magnus is a lucky man.”

Alec just hopes that his husband will think so, too.

“I think he's arrived,” Catarina says when a wave of cheers sounds over from the entrance. Magnus chuckles nervously, straightening his jacket for the umpteenth time. He wouldn't confess it out loud, but a small part of him was fearful that Idris wouldn't let Alec return, that Edom would have had to go to war once more. But Alec is here, straight from the plane.

Magnus sends a smirk towards his brother-in-law, who flashes him a brilliant smile.

“I cried when I first saw Clary in her dress,” Jace says. Magnus supposes that's him at his most vulnerable. He appreciates his openness, the starting of a bond that he can feel will be important for Alec to settle into his new life. Jace is Alec's best friend, the lack of a bachelor party a thing he regrets. So much, Magnus was able to gather from the short time they shared a drink last night. No shovel talk, but a lot of beautiful words about his brother and a few nostalgic anecdotes. Ragnor visibly relaxed in his presence, which isn't a small feat, especially for someone who usually wouldn't end up in their inner circle. But Clary is a lovely woman and Jace is a protective, loving brother. Magnus is glad that he is here to stand next to Alec at the start of something new.

“Let's see who cries first,” Magnus chuckles.

“No one wins that battle with my brother.” It sounds proud from Jace's lips. Magnus wishes this was about something less painful. He quirks a smile anyway and turns to his maid-of-honour. The look on Catarina's face makes him freeze.

“Good gracious,” Ragnor says under his breath.

“What's…?” Magnus asks, choking on the rest of the question when he sees the two people at the entrance of the temple.

His head flips violently to Alec's groomspeople. He finds them looking as shocked as the Edom side of the congregation, a wave of murmurs rolling from the back to the front of the temple.

Magnus fixes his mother-in-law with a stare, but Maryse stubbornly looks the other way. Magnus doesn't know what to do. The man leading a woman down the aisle is most definitely his father-in-law. This much he knows from the pictures Alec sent before their texting break. Did the Lightwoods use the last weeks to replace him with a stranger? Are they using his old birth certificate to palm off another Shadowhunter to Edom?

Magnus doesn't want to make a public scene. He knows how fragile this peace between the two peoples is. He looks at his father for help. If he, as the king, stepped in… But no. Asmodeus seems perfectly pleased with the current events. Anger and pain pull Magnus’ stomach taut. Did his father know about this?

“Who gives this woman to wed this man?” the Silent Brother asks when the pair reaches the sanctuary, startling Magnus with his booming voice.

Robert swallows hard, not meeting anyone's gaze. “Her mother and I.”

“What is going on?” Magnus asks under his breath. “Who are you?” His throat closes abruptly when he recognises the tattoo peeking out from the bride's high-necked dress. His eyes jump up, breaths coming raggedly as he realises who is standing in front of him. Alec seems frozen, barely breathing himself, only the corners of his lipstick-covered lips twitching minutely. Magnus would still not make out that it is him if it weren't for Alec's eyes. Even surrounded by make-up, unfamiliarly accentuated and strange—the sadness and longing in them may be stronger now than the last time he saw that look on his face, but they are so clearly his husband's.

“My Lord,” Alec says in flawless Edom, his voice nearly a whisper as he goes into a deep courtesy. Magnus feels like he's going to throw up. He told Isabelle that he didn't want Alec to bow in front of him, to forego old titles, that they'd be equals. Magnus grabs his arm and pulls him up near frantically. Alec's arm feels even slimmer in his hand than the last time they touched. Magnus checks his knuckles and wrists as he bows down for a kiss on Alec's hand to level out the situation. He exhales in relief. The skin is flawless. So is the manicure.

Magnus pulls Alec to his side, rage and despair mixing in his heart. He's sure Robert expected to give Alec a kiss on the cheek as the bride's father surely does in Shadowhunters culture. But he won't allow him to hurt his son even further.

“Does the couple want to have a moment for themselves?” the Edom priest asks. Magnus could kiss him. But even before he can make his voice work, Alec replies, “No.” Does he want to marry like this? Why?! Why would he ever do that?

Magnus can see the smug smile on the queen's face. It equals his father's. Magnus wants to set the world on fire. He and Alec are more than just pawns in other people's games.

The clergies start the ceremony that Magnus and Isabelle planned with so much care for detail. Magnus can barely follow the texts read, blessings spoken, and advice given. The music he chose so meticulously barely penetrates his racing mind. His eyes meet Isabelle's. Judging by the look on her face, he reckons she's going through all the signs she missed. So is Magnus. But it's too late for remorse.

When he says his vows, Alec's voice doesn't make it beyond the sanctuary. It's for the best. No one is supposed to hear the name he mutters. Magnus returns his own in kind, promising Alexander to honour and care for him for the rest of their lives. Alec's usually so impressive face doesn't move. He doesn't smile. He doesn't cry. He looks as if all the fight has left him, the shell of a man. It breaks Magnus’ heart in ways he never thought possible.

“You can kiss the bride,” the Silent Brother says. Magnus knows it's too early for the words lying on his tongue, but they feel like a promise he has to make.

He grabs Alec's chin with gentle fingers. “I love you, Alexander,” he says before their lips meet. Cheers fill the temple. His eyes closed, Magnus imagines Alec's smile the way he's done so many times during the past few weeks. And for a moment, he can pretend that this isn't an event that easily makes it into the top three of Magnus’ worst moments of his lifetime.

Alec leaves the temple on Magnus’ arm, stiff and unemotional, the smile on his face fake as can be. He waves to the crowd as they walk down the steps. Magnus quirks a well-rehearsed smile of his own. He wishes he hadn't opted for an open carriage. This is going to be a long, painful ride home.

Chapter Text

The door closes behind him with a quiet thud. Alec stares at the back of Magnus’ head, fidgeting with the sleeve of his wedding dress. His husband looks tense, swirling the Lightwood ring around his middle finger.

‘Say something,’ Alec wants to ask, but he's afraid of what will come out if he does. Magnus said, ‘Yes.’ That doesn't mean everything is fine between them.

“Why did you do it?” Magnus asks after a long minute. It's the worst question, a hard one to answer.

“Because,” Alec replies, “I had to.”

“They forced you,” Magnus presses out. Alec wishes they would touch. The drive here was bearable because they did, because Magnus didn't let go of his hand, but now, something has shifted, a wide chasm between them.

“It wasn't my idea… but I agreed to it.”

Magnus swirls around, gaping at him. “You agreed?”

Alec swallows hard. “It was an order from the Clave. I had to do it.”

“I thought you weren't a soldier anymore.”

“I'm still a reservist.”

“No, you're not,” Magnus presses through gritted teeth. “You are a citizen of Edom, my husband. No one can order you but the king.”

“Your father didn't exactly look as if he was bothered,” Alec says, voice shaking. He expected Magnus to pamper him a little before he had to face the world once more but he doubts he'll find comfort in his arms. Not for now, at least. He can't blame him. This is a lot, and he didn't have weeks to find ways to cope with it.

“My father loves sowing pain. I didn't expect—” Magnus cuts himself off.

“What?” Alec asks.

“Why didn't you tell me? Or your sister? I would have gotten you out of there.” Magnus sounds desperate now.

“I had to do it.”

Magnus purses his lips. “This was my wedding, too.”

Alec deflates a little. In all of this, he didn't think of Magnus’ side of the story, only the way he would react.

“We had the ritual,” Alec croaks, frowning at himself. Who said that again? Robert? He isn't so sure anymore.

Magnus breathes a sigh. “We can talk about this later when emotions aren't so high. What do you need right now?”

Alec's heart flutters as Magnus’ gentle eyes finally lie on him. How badly he had yearned for them.

“I… I guess the consummation…” he presses out, his mind racing. His corset was a pain in the arse to get into but Magnus probably has experience with putting it back on. He bedded female royals before.

“The what?!” Magnus hisses. The sound sends a shiver of ice through Alec.

“It's what we're here for.”

“I am here to get you out of that make-up and into your suit.”

“I don't own a suit fitting the occasion.” As if that was the reason he can't change.

“I had your tuxedo tailored before your first letter arrived. It's in your wardrobe. I'll send the chamberlain to fetch it.”

“No!” Alec says. “I can't change.”

“Why not? You must be dying in that dress.”

He is, and that Magnus is aware of that fills Alec's heart in unknown ways. But his husband doesn't seem to understand.

“The photos,” he tries, his mind way too sluggish still. Magnus must think he's stupid.

Magnus scoffs. “I think Idris’ press got what they wanted.”

“It's part of the deal.”

“What deal?”

Alec doesn't want to say it. “Can we just… it's only a few more hours.”

“A few more…? Are you listening to yourself?” Magnus sounds angry now.

“Magnus,” Alec pleads. “I told you all of this wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't transitioned before. And I could marry you. Isn't that what's important at the end of the day?”

Magnus works his jaw. “I didn't fall in love with Eugenia Marisa Lightwood. I fell in love with you. You have no idea how upsetting it is to see this stranger in front of me, knowing she is my husband.”

Alec pushes back against the tears welling up in his eyes. Tom did a great job. He didn't recognise himself this morning, either. He glances at his reflection in the large mirror in Magnus’ bedroom. He understands where Magnus is coming from.

“I'm sorry,” Alec presses out. “My hair will grow back and…” Well, his muscles won't return any time soon, the training ban and natural cycle doing their thing. But he will wear his clothes and his eyebrows will lose their plucked state eventually.

“You don't get it, do you?” Magnus asks, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“What?”

“This wasn't your decision to make. Not on your own.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“There is always a choice, Alexander. It might still be one between the devil and the deep blue sea, but you not only blindsided me, you pulled my whole nation into this mess. They expected the first gay royal wedding, Alec. They expected two smiling grooms. The international press has bombarded our media spokeswoman with questions for weeks. She said how proud I am to marry for love and peace. And now this? You put all of us into an impossible situation, and you didn't even bother warning me or your sister.”

“How should I have done that, huh?”

“You texted with her daily. A little heads-up would have been nice.”

“I haven't had my phone since we left, and they took my laptop after my birthday. I had no means to tell you. I tried in my letters, but you didn't understand my hints, so I gave up. You think all of this was a walk in the park for me?”

Magnus gapes at him. “The texts… that wasn't you?”

“Of course not.”

Magnus’ face falls. “What hints did I miss?”

Alec shakes his head. “It doesn't matter.”

“What hints?”

Alec sighs. “The poem. Then the way I described my mother's wedding dress and how I once thought I'd marry in it…”

“You didn't send me a poem,” Magnus croaks.

“In my first letter.”

Magnus walks to his secretary and pulls one of the drawers open. A neatly tied up bundle of letters in his hands, he returns to Alec.

“Are these yours?” he asks.

Alec knows they aren't without even opening a single one. His stationery isn't half as posh as the paper used. He shakes his head.

Magnus throws the bundle against the next wall with a force that makes Alec flinch. He wouldn't be surprised if flames would come out of his hands, a relic of childhood stories framing Downworlders as black magic hurling monsters, he supposes. Magnus is fuming in very human ways, however.

“They made a fool of all of us,” Magnus spits.

“Tradition is our greatest asset, Magnus. You gotta understand—”

“You agree with their behaviour?”

“I don't. But I understand where they are coming from. My actions pushed for change, so they pushed back. It's a natural thing.”

“There's nothing natural about putting a man in a dress and forcing him to offer up himself, his husband and a whole nation to ridicule.”

Magnus is angry. Alec gets that. He didn't consider the greater repercussions this would have. He didn't have all the information needed to do so, and he couldn't think properly, too wrapped up in his own sadness and dysphoria. He only had protecting his family on his mind. He didn't know how it would affect others. He was selfish in his selflessness.

“I'm sorry,” he presses out. He knows it isn't enough, but hopefully, it's a start. “The damage is done. But I promise to be the best prince consort this nation has ever seen. I will work my ass off and repair what I broke today.”

Magnus’ shoulders slump. “This isn't about you fixing things, Alexander. Idris took a Downworlder prisoner. They tortured you.”

“No, they didn't. I lived with my parents.”

“Were you free to leave?”

Alec shakes his head.

“Conversion therapy is torture, Alec. And when your parents were complicit in it or even implemented it, that's even worse.”

“What are you talking about?” Alec croaks.

“What would Idris do if Edom kidnapped a Shadowhunter, isolated them from everyone and tortured them?”

“I was still a Shadowhunter to them,” Alec says.

“That's not the point, and you know it.”

Yes. Yes, he does.

“Where do we go from here then? What is done, is done.”

Magnus’ face pulls into a deep frown. Alec doesn't dare interrupt his thinking even though he feels like fainting every second it lasts.

“What are you proposing?” Magnus finally asks.

“To go through with it,” Alec croaks.

“With what?”

“With the wedding. The queen's court will leave after the reception, right?”

Magnus nods.

“We'll take the pictures after, to appease Idris, and then…”

“...we let them carry on the lie that the Marquise of Alicante married the Prince of Edom in a straight, completely ’normal’ way.”

The words feel like a knife cutting Alec's stomach open. It's pretty bland laid out like that, but what other options do they have? Magnus doesn't want war, and accusing another country of torturing one's citizen surely needs more than waxing their body and putting them in a wedding dress.

“I know I don't look the way you expected,” Alec croaks. “Can't you just pretend? For my family? For me?”

Magnus stares at him blankly. “Why do you insist on keeping up this charade? You're safe now. No one will be able to harm you here.”

Alec doesn't dare bring up the sacrifices their marriage entails, the way they might hurt him in ways his parents never have. But maybe Magnus needs to see himself as the hero of their story, the white knight saving the poor queer man from the fangs of the dragon.

“Not me directly,” Alec says, hoping that Magnus will read between his lines.

“Your siblings would find refuge here,” Magnus states. Alec's heart clenches painfully in his chest.

“They did nothing wrong.”

“Refugees usually didn't. That's why we offer them asylum.”

“It would destroy their lives,” Alec reasons.

“What about your life, Alexander? What about you?”

“I have you now, right?”

Magnus doesn't answer that question, just lets out a heavy sigh.

So, this is it. Magnus married him but it's of no use. He probably hates his guts. Alec humiliated him in front of the whole world. He hurt his people who had accepted and celebrated their relationship. How is he supposed to ever make things right again? Magnus is right. He can't fix this easily. But he will, even if he dies trying.

“I can change for the party,” Alec offers as an olive branch. Whoever will be left there won't care. Probably. And maybe they can greet the people still gathered on the balcony after, settle the confusion with pictures that might shine a bad light on Idris but buy them sympathy.

“Alright,” Magnus allows. Alec exhales in relief. Just a few more hours. They can do that.

Chapter Text

“And Magnus is fine with that?” Jace asks under his breath.

“Fine is a very stretchable word,” Alec says, looking over to his husband who is talking with his friends. Friends he hasn't even introduced to Alec yet. He supposes that doesn't bode well for him and their relationship. But he is his mother's son. He won't show anyone today that he is inwardly breaking down. Not even his husband.

“I can't do it,” Jace says.

“I give you permission.”

“You shouldn't. That's the point. You taught me that deadnaming someone is a form of violence.”

“This isn't about my feelings, Jace. This is about politics. You wanna return to New York, right? If you acknowledge in your best man speech that I am a man, this career path will end with it.”

“That's nonsense.”

“Jace, for heaven's sake. Listen to me just this once. I appreciate your spirit, but think about your future. Think about Clary and the kids you'll have. Is this truly a hill you wanna die on?”

Jace shuffles his feet. “But Alec—”

“It's okay.”

“That's the worst,” Jace says, working his jaw.

“What is?”

“That you don't even ask me to do it for you. Have I been such a bad brother that you have to resort to my selfishness to get what you need?”

Alec doesn't want to answer that question. His silence seems to do it anyway as Jace curses under his breath.

“I'll do it,” he says. “For you. Because you asked me to.”

“Thank you, Jace,” Alec says and pulls him into a hug. Jace surely leaves several bruises on his back as he embraces him with desperate force. Alec lets him. He needs to be held so badly. He presses his face against Jace's shoulder to hide the few tears escaping his control. It's fine. A bride is allowed to cry in her brother's arms. A groom, too.

“How did Magnus take it?” Jace asks when they let go of each other.

“Don't ask,” Alec pleads.

Jace squeezes his shoulder. “Give him time.”

Alec nods. What else can he do? He has to earn his husband's trust again. That will take time and effort.

The usher calls everyone to their tables. Alec shares a smile with Catarina, who he still hasn't been officially introduced to. He waves over to Madzie who studies him with intense seriousness.

Magnus pulls out the chair for him without a word. Alec thanks him, but Magnus’ face equals a brick wall. He probably questions all his life choices that led him to this day.

Asmodeus rises to speak. His speech barely penetrates the fog slowly clouding Alec's mind once more. He doesn't welcome it this time, but it claims him anyway.

“To the happy couple,” Asmodeus says, raising his glass. Magnus bumps their arms when Alec doesn't react. Alec chucks the champagne down, instantly feeling warmth rising into his cheeks. He hasn't eaten all day.

The food being served would be a delight under usual circumstances, all his favourites arranged in a perfectly balanced five-course menu. Alec can't make himself eat it, his plates leaving the table untouched. He doesn't deserve the obvious care Magnus took in making this enjoyable for him. He doesn't deserve the nice words Jace finds to honour his ‘sister’ in his best man speech. He doesn't deserve the wedding cake, either, a masterful variation on the marzipan cake that Alec had for his parabatai ceremony and that has been a staple on his birthday ever since.

He quirks a smile for the photographer as he and Magnus cut the cake. He manages one bite with the eyes of all guests on him. The time until their wedding dance eludes him once more. He feels like a robot.

“I'm not stepping on your feet, am I?” he asks, when Magnus is finally close again and the fog lifts somewhat with the touch of his hands.

“How could you be?” Magnus replies. “You're the perfect bride.”

A single tear runs over Alec's cheek, but Magnus doesn't see it. The guests likely believe Alec is crying from joy.

‘This isn't about you fixing things,’ he hears Magnus in his mind.

His husband probably thinks he is a dead weight, that he misjudged him. Alec will prove him wrong, but right now, he lets himself drift, Magnus too distant to be an anchor in reality.

“And now that the official photos are wrapped up, let's do something more romantic,” the photographer says.

Magnus pulls his arm away from Alec's back. “I think we're done here.”

The painful smile on Alec's face slips out of his control. “Why? Don't you want something more casual?”

Magnus looks tiredly at him. “I can pretend for the pictures that Idris will plaster their newspapers with. I won't pretend for photos that were meant to end up on my desk. And now, excuse me. I need some time for myself.”

Alec nods, his last hope that this day might take a turn for the better evaporating into thin air. If there was a chasm between them after the ceremony, now, they're an ocean apart.

“Why don't you go after him?” Isabelle asks. She must have stuck around after the family picture was taken. In his tunnel vision, Alec didn't see her and her boyfriend lingering to the side.

“Because he said he needed space,” Alec says.

“He's struggling with seeing you like this. Everyone of us is. What were you thinking, agreeing to this?”

“I had no other choice.”

“You could have sneaked out and made it across the border,” Isabelle argues in her naivety. “You did as a kid, remember? How much easier would it have been, now that you're grown up and the borders are open? Where was your fight spirit that left boys with bloody noses left and right?”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Alec presses out. He's tired of having to defend himself, especially with the people who he did all of this for. “You didn't even realise you were texting with a stranger for two long months. Don't tell me about choices and fighting. I did what I had to do. For our family. For your future, too. But you've never seen what I did to protect you. Why should it be any different now?”

And with these words, he gathers his dress and returns to the ball room. But he doesn't find his husband there, just busy servants rearranging everything for the dance.

“Where is the prince royal?” he asks the blonde guard from their first date.

“He's in the sunroom with the other guests, Your Royal Highness,” she says. “Do you want me to lead the way, Sir?”

Alec chokes on her words. The new title. The way to address him despite being in full drag. It pulls the rug from underneath his feet.

“No,” he replies. “But could you lead me to my room, please?”

“Of course, Sir. The palace's layout can be confusing in the beginning.”

Alec doesn't correct her assumptions. He just follows her, glad that he doesn't run into anyone on their way.

“Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” Helen asks.

Alec shakes his head. “Thank you. That's everything,” he replies, taking in his new home for the very first time.

“Welcome to Edom, Sir. We're all very happy that you're here,” Helen says before closing the door.

Alec stares at his unpacked luggage for a long moment, pondering if he should even bother to open his suitcases.

‘Marriage is hard work,’ one of the counsellors briefing him over the past few weeks told him. He thinks it was the sex educator when he dared to say that he was scared of intercourse. Not that he thinks that Magnus even thinks about consummating their marriage. That will be something to work up to.

Alec slumps into his desk chair, sorting through the sparse correspondence and the newspapers laid out for him in anticipation of his arrival. The reading will be a part of his daily prep work, Magnus had explained when he wrote about Alec's future duties.

Alec skims through the newspapers. They aren't much different than the ones back home. All but the one on the very bottom. The headline on the front page pulls his attention.

"Royal Betrayal: Prince Magnus Caught Kissing Ex-Girlfriend Just Hours Before Wedding!"

With trembling hands, Alec flips the newspaper open, photographic evidence proving the yellow press right. He would think it was an old photo or a montage, if it weren't for a tiny detail in the background.

He reads the article with his heart beating in his mouth.

In a shocking turn of events, Prince Magnus of Edom was spotted sharing an intimate kiss with his ex-girlfriend, Camille de Belcourt, just hours before his highly anticipated wedding ceremony with his Idris husband Alexander, Marquis of Alicante. Eyewitnesses claim the reunion took place at the prince's private bachelor party, where the two appeared lost in conversation before their lips met, igniting a media frenzy.

The Internet is already dubbing it a “Royal Betrayal”, speculating on the emotional fallout for both the Idris and the Edom royal family. Sources close to the prince suggest that unresolved feelings may have prompted this unexpected encounter, raising questions about his commitment to his husband. As the wedding date looms, public sentiment is divided, with many wondering if this scandal could derail the royal nuptials entirely and with it the peace treaty between the kingdoms of Edom and Idris.

Alec puts the paper down, staring at the shocked face of his sister. He's not sure whose betrayal hurts the most. It probably doesn't matter. If Magnus still has feelings for Camille, his slim chances to reconcile with him probably just melted away. Maybe Magnus is already back in her arms, complaining about his useless husband, finding solace in a body that is perfect and a soul who's known him for years.

Alec lets the tears fall freely. He was a fool believing that he could win a prince's heart. He was a fool, full stop. No one has ever loved him unconditionally, and now, no one ever will.

‘I should've gone for love, too,’ Robert's words return to him in Magnus’ voice. His mother was right. Alec is just like her. And just like Maryse, he will have to carry the humiliation of a betrayed spouse who can't leave a marriage that no longer serves them. He will raise his kids while their father enjoys romantic trips and freedom. Alec will be the laughing stock of the servants and the people he'll meet fulfilling his duties.

We're all very happy that you're here.

Alec closes his eyes. He's exchanged a perfectly fine life in the shadows for a nightmare that will keep on giving. He probably deserves it for flying too close to the sun.

Chapter Text

Magnus throws his jacket on the floor and slumps down on his ottoman, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey,” Catarina says, her hand cupping his shoulder warmly. “How are you holding up?”

“Barely,” he replies in a sigh. He feels like crawling into bed and never getting out of it again. He knows he's just being dramatic. It wasn't him who had to walk around in women's clothes, every person he encountered and every mirror an enemy. But it's still unbearable. He thought he could do it, that he was strong enough, but Alec trying his best – and succeeding in – playing the part, while impressive, was unsettling. Magnus wanted to grab his shoulders and shake sense into him.

Magnus knows he should be with him right now, should help him out of his dress and into his suit, but he can't. He's scared. What else did they do to Alec beyond superficial changes? How is Magnus supposed to heal the wounds they surely left behind? What if there is more he doesn't know yet? Magnus isn't sure if he could walk out on the dance floor and pretend that Alec is fine if he understood the full extent of it.

He's not a coward. He will be there for Alec through all the repercussions, but right now, he has to leave the caring to his siblings. They will leave soon enough, and Magnus will do his best to offer Alec a home and a family of his own, one that truly cares for him, people who show him how it is supposed to be. But he needs a moment to gather his thoughts and feel his feelings before he can be a force of positivity and someone who isn't that damn angry anymore.

“I couldn't look at him all day,” Magnus confesses. He went through the motions, listened to that god-awful best man's speech of Jace. He could have strangled him. Has no one in that family a backbone? And that is his husband's best friend?

Magnus knows that pity is rarely a helpful sentiment, but this is so much worse than Magnus ever thought it could be. Alec was lonely, yes, but maybe not as voluntarily as Magnus thought. With a family that knows you so little that your absence isn't perceived for months, who needs enemies? Alec is his own worst enemy in this, however. For a man who is supposed to excel in close-quarters combat he sure willingly offered others the knives to stab and cut him with—and Magnus, too.

“I know,” Catarina says curtly, the tone of her voice making Magnus look up at her.

“I've never seen you treat a partner like that, not even those who would have deserved it.”

“What do you mean?” Magnus asks, flabbergasted.

“Would it have killed you to hold his hand, to have whispered something nice or encouraging into his ear? For weeks you talked about how much you want him near, and now that he is, you're treating him like a stranger.”

“This person he pretends to be is a stranger to me,” Magnus presses out. Alec would have been a beautiful woman. Magnus would likely have fallen for her just as he had fallen for Alec. But that beautiful face with those gorgeous eyes looked grotesque to him, nausea inducing. It was probably his guilty conscience distorting his vision, but still.

Catarina scoffs. “Is he? So when you dressed up for your Halloween parties, that wasn't you singing karaoke and drinking with your friends? That wasn't you who fucked in the supply closet more than once?”

Magnus swallows hard. When Catarina gets crude, he knows he screwed up big time. Still, he tries to defend himself, “That's not the same.”

Her arched eyebrow creeps even higher. “Is that so? Alec is playing dress up today, likely struggling with dysphoria, clearly dissociating half of the day. You didn't even encourage him to eat.”

“Wha–? Why would I? He's a grown man.”

“Because he didn't eat all day. That you didn't realise should tell you everything about what a shitty husband you've been to him so far.”

Shame wreaks through Magnus’ body like a tidal wave. He thought…

“I…” Magnus wants to protest but Catarina and he have always spoken their mind, calling out the other if needed, with honesty and based on their love for each other. If she saw Alec not eating, why didn't he?

“Oh my god,” he presses out. “I gotta talk to him.” He jumps off his seat.

“I'm glad you're finally coming to your senses,” Catarina says, clearly still teed off.

“Where do I go from here?” he asks, feeling like a headless chicken. He knows he has to mend things. He let his anger out on the one person who deserved it the least. The silent treatment. He turned into fucking Camille!

“Where is he now?” Catarina asks.

“I left him with Isabelle and Simon.”

“Good. Then pull yourself together first, and when you're ready, you'll find him and show him that you two will make it. It doesn't matter if you're angry or worried, doubtful or confused. He needs reassurance now, more than anything. Be honest but also do what you usually are the best at.”

“And what would that be?”

“Kindness.”

Magnus lets out a ragged breath. Being kind. That, he can be. And no one deserves it more than his Alexander.

“Isabelle,” Magnus greets his sister-in-law as he scans the ballroom for his groom. “Where did you hide my husband?”

“Um… I thought he was with you.”

Magnus’ heart plummets to the floor.

“What do you mean? He was with you when I left.”

“He talked smack to me and took off. But if he didn't go after you…”

“Shit!” Magnus presses out. Where would Alec go? It's his first time at the palace. Magnus couldn't even give him a tour yet.

“Maybe he's with Jace. I haven't seen him since the family photo, either.”

“Call him,” Magnus all but orders.

“We had to leave our phones at home, remember?” Simon says.

Shit!

Magnus hurries out of the ballroom and up the stairs with Isabelle on his heels. He knocks on Jace's room a moment later but no one answers. Did the couple take Alec somewhere else? Or did Alec seek his parents’ consolation with everyone leaving him to his own devices?

The heated argument behind Maryse's door at least solves the mystery of Jace's disappearance. Magnus would like to pour out his wrath on them but he has no time for these people who don't know where their son is, either.

Magnus racks his brains about Alec's whereabouts. Gruesome pictures he managed to suppress for decades on the front of his mind, he tries to think straight. Alec promised he'd go to the dance in his new tuxedo. So maybe…

Magnus bangs against the door of Alec's quarters with fear running through his veins. No reply comes, so he pushes the door open. The sight opening up behind it makes his heart stop.

“Alec?!” Isabelle yells desperately before Magnus can even gather a coherent thought. Alec's wedding dress is lying torn on the floor together with the tiara and other jewellery Alec wore earlier. He must have ripped all of it off his body, pearls lying scattered on the wooden floor.

Magnus’ gaze catches on the open window, cool evening air blowing the curtains into the freezing room. Neither he nor Alec's siblings dare to move.

“He wouldn't, would he?” Magnus whispers, the thought too terrible to speak out loud. Isabelle shakes her head but her face tells a different story. Magnus walks slowly towards the window, terror holding his chest in an iron grip. He can't breathe. He closes his eyes, one step away from the window sill, when impact noises followed by a loud “Fuck!” come from the bathroom. He exhales in a relieved gust.

“Alexander?” he calls, trying to overcome the still lingering panic.

“Don't come in. I'm not decent,” Alec's voice comes through the door.

A near hysterical laugh breaks out of Magnus. “It's just Isabelle, Jonathan, and I, darling. Are you okay in there?”

As close to the door as he is now, Magnus can hear the closing of the bathroom cabinet and the rustling of fabric. Is Alec simply changing? Did he find the brand new packer shorts Magnus bought him and tried them on?

“I'm alright,” comes the answer. Alec's voice sounds strange to Magnus’ ears. He sends Jace a questioning look. He seems to be at a loss like him.

“Do you need anything?” Magnus asks. “Make-up remover? Help with the—?” Magnus stops himself as he sees the breast shield and women's lingerie lying on the daybed. To think that Alec had to wear that all day.

“I'm good,” comes through the door.

Magnus breathes a sigh. "Would you prefer to be with your siblings until you're dressed? I could get you some food in the meantime.”

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry.”

“Did you eat something after the photoshoot?” Magnus asks, hopeful against all odds.

“You don't have to bother yourself, Magnus,” Alec says, sounding tired but mostly sad. It makes Magnus’ stomach lurch. Catarina was right. He's been a lousy husband.

“It's not a bother,” Magnus croaks, putting his hand on the wood of the door as if that would get him closer to Alec somehow. “You could never be a bother,” he insists.

“I just wanna go to bed. You should have fun. You put so much work into it.”

“I can't have fun without you, Alexander. I missed you all day. All I want is my husband, so let me help you turn back into him.”

It takes half an eternity for the key to turn and for Alec to step out. He has a large towel wrapped around his hips, his hair wet and make-up mostly gone. Magnus tries his best not to gawk at his bare chest. Even waxed and clearly with a few pounds of muscles and fat less on his ribs, Alec is still easily the most beautiful man he has ever seen, surgery scars and all.

“I tried to wash them out but it didn't work,” Alec says, pointing apologetically at his long hair.

“You'll need a hairdresser to remove them,” Isabelle says. “Didn't whoever put them in tell you that?”

“Probably,” Alec mumbles. “I wasn't really listening.”

“I'll get someone to fix your hair first thing in the morning,” Magnus promises. “Until then—what do you say to a classic look? Think: Interview with the Vampire.”

“Oh, that's a brilliant idea!” Isabelle exclaims.

“Let me help you dry your hair,” Magnus says, stepping closer.

“No!” Alec says forcefully. “I… I can do that on my own,” he adds a little calmer. Magnus frowns at his outburst but he supposes he should be grateful that Alec is even willing to talk to him.

Alec pulls the door closed behind him and rummages through one of his suitcases. He takes out briefs that have seen better days. Magnus walks to the drawer and hands him one of the pairs of packing underwear.

“Here. To keep cursed objects in check,” he says airily despite anxiety having his lungs in a tight grip. Something is wrong. He can feel it. But Alec actually chuckles at his quip, the sound nearly pulling a sob from Magnus’ lips.

“The suit is in the armoire,” he says, unsure if he should leave or stay. Alec nods and takes it out, eyes bulging comically as he sees the rich fabric. Magnus can't help but smile. Alec will look so good in it.

“I… I'll change in the bathroom,” Alec says, grabbing a pair of socks and doing just that.

“He's still acting weird,” Isabelle sighs.

“How did we miss all the signs?” Magnus asks.

“I've been wrecking my brain all day, Magnus. I'm so sorry. I failed both of you,” Isabelle says.

Magnus closes his eyes for a moment. And he thought Alec getting wind of the Camille story might be a disaster in waiting. It looks tiny compared to this.

“What will you do now?” Jace asks.

Magnus breathes a sigh. “I will consult my legal advisors, I will have a talk with my father, but most importantly: I will do my best to get Alec away from prying eyes, so that he can heal.”

Isabelle nods. “I don't know how to face my parents. How could they let this happen? My brother is a self-sacrificing idiot sometimes. They should've said something.”

Magnus works his jaw, gauging Jace's reaction to his sister's words. He looks as if he's holding his horses, hands curled into fists.

“I think they made him do this, Isabelle,” Magnus says. “No one will convince me that this was Alec's idea. He fought too hard, sacrificed too much to become the man he's always been. They imprisoned him. They forced a conversion on him. They were his prison masters.”

“They wouldn't,” Isabelle protests. “They love him. They supported his transition.”

Magnus wants to scream. She is more naive than he thought her to be.

“Ask them,” Magnus says, trying not to lash out verbally with Alec on the other side of the door. “Maybe they'll tell you why your brother had to destroy what should have been the happiest day of his life.”

Isabelle's throat moves, tears standing in her eyes. Magnus can't comfort her. He's still angry, mostly with himself. But that has to go on the backburner. Alec's feelings have priority now, and it will be hard enough to tickle them out of him. Alec was right earlier. He's still a soldier, one who'd rather rip his own heart out than let others suffer. Magnus may not know his reasoning, but he will find out, and then, he will punish whoever made Alec feel like this was his only option.

Jace tugs on Isabelle's arm. “We should leave the two alone,” he says. “We'll wait downstairs. Do you want us to arrange something?”

Magnus shakes his head. “I want Alec to decide what more he can handle.”

Chapter Text

Alec sits down on the closed toilet seat and takes a deep breath before he pushes the towel open to check the damage. He's glad that the towel soaked up most of the blood. Alec wants to press his fingers into the freshly closed cuts, but he refrains with all the willpower he has. He allowed himself to give in earlier. It has to suffice. Magnus and his siblings are waiting on the other side of the door.

Alec takes a deep breath, hoping for the dizziness to subside. He knows Magnus is right. He should eat something. Wasn't there talk about a midnight buffet? Alec has no idea what time it is. He sat at his desk for a long while, staring at Magnus kissing someone else. Sadness turned to anger turned to despair. The pressure building was unbearable until it burst out of him. He destroyed his mother's wedding dress, broke his grandmother's pearls, and ruined the expensive lingerie.

It wasn't enough.

He'd kept himself from hurting himself for weeks, the thought of Magnus’ sad eyes when he'd find the proof of it a rampart against the burning urge in him. But Magnus’ spell isn't working anymore.

Alec's head is spinning. Nothing makes sense anymore. Is Magnus playing mind games? Why would he buy him special underwear if he didn't care for him? He knew where to find them. Did he put them in the drawer?

Maybe it's just a friendly gift, the duty a husband has to fulfil in Magnus’ mind. He looked so devastated, though, and sounded anxious. He must think Alec is a mad man. Appearing together at the dance part of their wedding celebrations is probably just damage control. Magnus needs people to see that Alexander of Alicante exists, that this whole day held some kind of truth.

Alec thinks of the queer people he let down today. He didn't stand up for himself, much less for them. He owes them a happy picture. Would Magnus still put a wedding photo on his desk? Was he even going to do it in the first place?

It's all for publicity, probably. Magnus kissed Camille not even 48 hours ago. Isabelle saw them, and still, she attacked Alec, not him. It figures.

Alec puts on his new shorts, the cuts stinging when they brush over his thighs. The fabric still feels nice. Alec fishes for his toiletry bag and unwraps his packer. Of all the things he had to forgo today, he missed it the most. As if it would have made a difference.

Alec stares at it for a long while. Just a few weeks ago, he had joked about it easily in front of a cis man, one he openly fancied. Now, the need for it feels like a failure. Probably because his construction kit has been hard to ignore lately. Having breasts today had fucked with his brain, still does somehow. It was such a relief to pull the shield off his skin despite the pain it left behind. Tom surely told him how to remove it safely but the whole morning is a blur. Alec doesn't think he was fully in his body then.

He is now, however. Painfully so.

Thankfully, the shorts cover the cuts. Not that it would matter. He'll put on the tux and will accompany Magnus. The court photographer will take pictures of the ‘happy couple’, and then, Magnus is free to go to do whatever he pleases.

Is Camille in the building waiting for Magnus? Will they have a good laugh about Alec as Magnus shares Alec's earlier attempt to consummate their marriage? The thought presses tears into Alec's eyes. He really needs to stop crying or the pictures will be of no use.

He puts the packer in the pouch of his boxers and gets dressed on autopilot. When he feels ready to leave the bathroom, he only finds Magnus on the other side. His husband searches his face before his eyes roam his body. Alec blushes despite himself. The suit would have fit perfectly two months ago, but he doesn't look half bad, he supposes.

“You clean up nicely,” Magnus says, smiling at him softly. He sounds honest, if a little strained. He's probably worried that Alec would jump out of the window if he told him what he really thinks about his husband.

“Thanks,” Alec croaks. “So, the party…”

“We don't have to go. You said you were tired.”

“You told me to get dressed.”

Magnus frowns at that. “My apologies, Alexander. I guess I just wanted this day to end on a high note. But if it stresses you out—”

“I said I'm good.”

“You don't look good, darling.”

Alec bites his tongue. Magnus means well. He has to believe it. Otherwise, he might break down for real.

“I'll be fine,” he says with more conviction than he thought able to muster. Magnus considers him for a long moment, then nods.

“Alright. But one word from you, and we're out of there okay?”

We.

Alec nods and takes the hand Magnus offers him. Magnus kisses him, gently, so different than this morning after their vows, near shy. Does he want to or does he think he has to?

Alec hates that he's always second-guessing now. In all those terrible weeks leading up to this day, he never questioned Magnus’ intentions with him. All those beautiful words, the care in picking the menu and cake, the breathtaking suit, his rooms that look cosy and manly all at once…

He understands his mother better now. How did the saying go? A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. He has Magnus. This incredible man married him despite everything. And if his heart is still Camille's, Magnus’ everyday life will be his. Alec is allowed to be with the man he loves. It's more than he ever dared to dream of.

“Ready?” Magnus asks once he's bound Alec's hair back with a ribbon.

“Yes,” Alec replies, earning himself another gentle brush of lips. Nothing can be really bad if Magnus kisses him, when he interlaces their fingers. Alec can pretend this is what Magnus truly wants. And maybe he does. Maybe that kiss on the front page was a kiss goodbye caught for all eternity.

Alec looks good enough to eat. All eyes are on his man when they enter the room. Magnus couldn't be prouder. The guests have no idea how brave Alec is, how much in awe Magnus is of him. Alec clearly had a breakdown earlier. Magnus could kick himself that he wasn't with him when it happened. He should have been there, to comfort, to hold, to cheer on his righteous anger. But remorse won't help anyone. Alec needs to believe that his life will be better from now on, at his side.

Everyone bows when the usher announces their arrival. Alec smiles a little shyly when they walk into the room, all attention on them. Magnus smirks to himself. Alec will have to get used to this.

A wave of applause rises. It takes Magnus by surprise. And then again, not really. These people are mostly Edom royals and international friends of the kingdom. He can spot a few Shadowhunters, too, which gives him hope. They all can see that Alec is a proud queer man, who doesn't let tradition and bigotry pull him down.

Magnus nods at Lorenzo Rey, a member of the House of Álvarez de Toledo, son of a Downworlder and a Spanish royal. He seems in comfortable conversation with one of Alec's groomsmen. Magnus wonders briefly if Andrew also got fake texts or letters to ask him to fill the empty spot. Did Alec even want him there?

There's so much Magnus doesn't know about these past few weeks of Alec's life, of the way this day would have been different if his husband had truly been involved in the planning and not some Clave puppet purporting to be him.

Magnus’ eyes go to his father who raises a glass at them. He gives the king a respectful bow, mind racing. How much did Asmodeus know? Did he let him walk right into a trap or was he just as blindsided as him? His father has spies everywhere. If the wedding announcement was different in Idris than in Edom, then he ought to know. Did he enjoy Alec's suffering? Did he give his blessing out of spite? That's likely. Asmodeus hates Idris with all his might. The peace treaty is a reasonable thing, nothing he strove for for its own sake. The demand to seal the treaty with a royal marriage was Asmodeus’ idea, a way to humiliate Idris that has never supported intermarriage of any kind. It happened before, of course, but it was never welcome. Alec is a human sacrifice in so many ways.

Could Magnus have known how this would play out? Should he have known? This marriage was an affront right from the start, and he accepted Alec, delighted, for everyone to see.

There is always a choice, Alexander.

How full of himself he was, saying that. Alec sealed his fate the moment he stepped out of that crowd, choosing himself and Magnus over tradition and family, a career and a future living stealth. He didn't know the latter back then, but Magnus can just imagine the headlines that are going around the globe right now. They'll have to counter them.

He motions the court photographer to start taking pictures, and while his eyes are on Alec as they dance to ‘What a Wonderful World’, his mind is racing, plotting how they can do damage control without having to drag Alec into the limelight. Magnus supposes that a few ‘leaks’ and ‘paparazzi photos’ of their honeymoon will be necessary to shut down rumours of the malicious kind. His assistant will coordinate that. She's good at it, kept the press busy when he was going through a phase of depression after Camille. Every restaurant visit with Catarina or Dorothea, even Ragnor and Simon became the potential date of a seemingly happy and carefree prince royal.

As much as Magnus wants to keep their honeymoon private, Idris isn't giving him another choice. He just hopes they can keep control of the intrusion and the narrative. Whatever it will be.

Chapter Text

“You've done so well today,” Magnus says as they near the door to his private quarters. Alec looks at it, sadness, exhaustion and longing mixing in his chest, making it hard to get his tongue to work.

Has he done well? He's not so sure. He didn't look the part of a happy bride. He managed to offend his husband and all of Edom in a probably failed attempt to protect his family. Will the Clave keep their part of the deal if the world erupts in malice and protest?

He's probably a little full of himself. Their kingdoms are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Some maps of the continent don't even show them. Maybe, no one cares. He's not that important, and transphobia runs rampant in so many parts of the world. He knows he played into the hands of self-acclaimed TERFs and Gender Criticals. He did today what they claim would be so easy for people like him: just presenting as the sex they were assigned at birth. They don't care that even now, hours after ripping that dress off, he still feels like stripping the skin off his body. They don't understand the pain of being perceived as someone you're simply not, of a body that serves you in so many ways and destroys you in others.

But even with voices like theirs shut out of his mind, he has to reject Magnus’ words. He didn't do well. He was and still is a complete mess. He made conversation with strangers but he only made it look easy, years of drill and grooming to be a diplomat kicking in. He laughed and listened, he danced and made himself eat—that's nothing to be proud of. It's what every normal person would do. It's not an achievement of any sort. It still feels good that Magnus seems to be satisfied with his last performance. Politics is mostly about image, after all. But would Magnus still say the same if he saw the proof of his weakness carved into Alec's skin?

“You must be exhausted,” Magnus says, pushing the handle. Alec hums in affirmation. He is. He could sleep for days. But he'll have to clean up his mess first.

“I'm going to have a nightcap,” Magnus says as he enters. “You?”

Alec hovers in front of the doorstep. “I'm not much of a drinker.”

Magnus’ eyebrow creeps up at that. Alec sighs inwardly. Just another disappointment for his husband, he supposes. He's seen the bottles Magnus put on the drinks cart in his room. He must think him boring, but Alec just knows instinctively that he and booze would be a match for disaster. He couldn't resist the razor blades earlier. How much easier would it be to shoot himself off with alcohol every day, just to cope with all the pressure and unexpressed feelings? At least sport is healthy, even if he overdoes it sometimes.

“I have to…” Alec says, gesturing towards his door that is quite a distance across from Magnus’.

“Get your pyjamas?” Magnus asks, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He's so damn handsome like this. Alec could barely look at him all day, but here, in the dim light of the corridor with no one around, he can finally look his fill. The yearning in his chest is overwhelming. But is this what Magnus truly wants? Or is he only testing him?

“Pyjamas?” Alec croaks.

“Oh, my, Alexander. Are you a naked sleeper?” Magnus teases. Alec's cheeks burn crimson, his lips forming words that never come. “Personally, I like sleeping in my birth suit in the summer,” Magnus continues, “but in autumn and winter? There's nothing better than a cosy pair of pyjamas.”

Alec nods. He doesn't know what to do with this conversation. Does Magnus want him to sleep in his bed? Is that what this is about? Alec doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

Were all of Magnus’ earlier touches honest or just for the public? As tempting as it was, Alec didn't allow himself to fully sink into them.

“I'm more of the sleeping in my underwear type,” Alec confesses.

“If that's what you prefer,” Magnus says gently.

“It's a leftover from my military practise,” Alec shares. “We could be woken any time. Faster to get into your clothes when you're already half dressed.”

Magnus nods in understanding. “You won't be woken in the middle of the night here. Do you wanna try one of mine? I can offer you cotton, merino wool, or silk. Which would you prefer?”

Alec plays fish on land once more. “That's very generous of you,” he manages after a long moment. “I have no idea.”

Magnus’ whole face lights up. He grabs Alec's hand, pulling him over the threshold and towards his bedroom. Alec stares at the large bed, one worthy of a future king. Magnus rummages through his walk-in closet, returning shortly after with an assortment of pyjamas, one pair looking more expensive than the other.

Alec runs his fingers over a navy cotton one with a ship's badge print, the others looking too silky for his taste. Or was he simply raised to believe that soft things are for girls? He puts a pin in that question. Magnus clearly doesn't lose any of his masculinity because of the shiny fabrics he seems to love.

“You mean it?” Alec asks, his heart beating a little faster for some silly reason.

“That you can wear them tonight?”

Alec hums.

“But, of course. If you like them, we'll order you your own pairs, of course. I don't think we have quite the same size. Gosh, I love how tall you are.”

Alec ducks on instinct. He tried all day to appear shorter. His shoulders are still rolled forward the way his mother always scolded him for. How quickly one regresses to old habits.

“It kept the boys away in the past,” Alec mumbles despite himself. He loves that he passes easier because of his height, that he can meet Magnus, who isn't a short man himself, on eye-level. But being perceived as a girl in that body of his? The height of his heels was a big discussion before the wedding.

“Some men are insecure,” Magnus muses, unfazed. “Maybe most straight men, even. I think having tall or petite partners both have their perks.”

Alec freezes. He all but forgot about the invisible elephant in the room. Camille is beautiful and petite, much more fitting next to Magnus than Alec's lanky appearance. He's still such a boy sometimes, doesn't know what to do with his long limbs if not focused in combat. She looked so elegant in that photograph. Alec dreads the pictures that will fill tomorrow's front pages.

He takes the pair of cotton pyjamas and presses them against his chest. “Thank you. Do you want me to stay or…?”

Magnus’ face does something complicated, surprise and sadness two elements Alec can decipher in his quickly changing features.

“What is it you want, Alexander?” Magnus asks quietly. “If you need space, I would understand. But I want you to know thay I'd love to have you here, with me.”

Magnus’ honesty is disarming. It presses tears into Alec's eyes. There's nothing he wants more than to fall asleep wrapped in Magnus’ arms.

“My toothbrush is in my bathroom,” he says, heart nearly beating out of his chest. The thought of their toothbrushes drying next to each other shouldn't make him so giddy.

Magnus’ lips curl into a smile. “Then let me show you the connecting door between our places… our place and yours,” he corrects himself. Alec exhales raggedly. He doubts that he will ever see this here as anything but Magnus’, a place he needs to be invited into. But who knows? Stranger things have happened, he supposes.

“Connecting door?” he asks. How big is Magnus’ private part of the castle if it spans out to his room? And where is it hidden?

“Yes,” Magnus replies, smirking. “I guess it stems from a time when the prince or princess royal and their spouse didn't necessarily marry for romantic reasons and your rooms were likely that of their paramours.”

Alec reckons he has to be grateful that he is allowed to live there now. He doesn't miss that Magnus avoids the term ‘love’, however. So it was only a slip of his tongue during the ceremony, probably a desperate attempt to gain control of the situation. That's alright, he tells himself. Magnus is being kind. Even though no one would ever know if they slept apart, his husband probably knows how much assurance he needs now, how rattled Alec is within. It's a fountain of shame Alec will deal with tomorrow. But tonight, he allows himself one last moment of weakness. It's alright. Alec is used to taking comfort from the source of his pain.

Chapter Text

Magnus wakes up to an empty bed. He'd think the last day was only a nightmare if he couldn't still feel the warmth of Alec's missing body in the sheets.

He sits up, pricking his ears for sounds somewhere in his apartment. But no such luck. He grabs his bathrobe and wraps it around himself. No wonder he woke up without Alec's warmth. His husband is a teddy bear, soaking up closeness, a touch starved man likey. Alec barely spoke a word last night, just held on to him as if Magnus were the mast on a ship on a heavy sea. Magnus was glad that he could comfort him without words, that Alec could at least let go a little with him.

Magnus shuffles through the dark apartment, drawn in by a chink of light coming through the connecting door. He ponders leaving Alec alone when he hears the sound of pearls hitting something metal. He pushes the door open.

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” he asks. Alec looks up at him from where he is crouching on the floor.

“Cleaning up,” Alec croaks.

“After not even five hours of sleep?”

“I woke up and thought of your servants seeing the mess, so…”

Magnus huffs a laugh. “You know, I pay my servants very well to take care of all the messes I, my guests, or my husband might make.”

Alec breathes a sigh and gets up, his feet bare. Magnus frowns at them.

“I just wanna make a good impression,” Alec says, running a hand through his hair. He makes a face when he gets stuck on an extension.

“You don't have to try so hard, Alexander,” Magnus aims to soothe him. Only a few minutes up, and his husband already seems to be stressed out again.

“You said it yourself: I pulled your… our whole nation into my mess.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “I was angry and confused. I am sorry that I worded it that way. You did what you had to survive, to make it back to me. And you did. That's all that matters.”

Magnus hopes that this will make it better. He doesn't know if he's reached his goal. The look on Alec's face is unreadable.

“When will the rest of your stuff arrive?” Magnus decides to change the topic.

“This is everything,” Alec replies, frowning.

“Every…?” Magnus trails off. How can one person own so little?

“I should unpack,” Alec says and heaves one of the suitcases on the table. He pulls out clothes that clearly have seen better days. Magnus knows that a dowry isn't exactly in keeping with the times, but what his husband takes out of the few boxes next to the two suitcases looks more like the sparse belongings of a Charles Dickens’ orphan.

“They packed my phone,” Alec says, unlocking the device. He scrolls through it.

“How could they use it?” Magnus asks.

“Shouldn't have used my birthday as a PIN,” Alec says.

“You should change it.”

Alec shrugs, clearly distracted by whatever he is reading.

“One text,” he mumbles.

“Huh?”

“It took one text sent by ‘me’ to cut the lines with you.”

Magnus’ heart clenches in remorse and sympathy. “I thought you were being romantic. Well, your letters weren't. In hindsight, it figures.”

“I put so much care into writing them,” Alec says, putting the phone aside and rummaging through the box.

“I will demand them to be delivered to me,” Magnus states. That's the least he can do. He wants to do so much more, but he's well aware that his and his father's advisors might suggest not poking the bear and giving the whole thing a rest. Every fibre of Magnus’ being fights that idea, but he is a reasonable person. Protecting Alec from now on has to be his priority.

Alec shakes his head. “No need,” he says and fishes a bunch of letters out of the box. “Not sure if they would have made a difference.”

Magnus takes the envelopes and runs his fingers over the angular handwriting of his name. What a treasure to finally have Alec's words. Maybe the letters will help him understand him better.

He settles with them on the sofa, still tired from a stressful day and a way too short night. He doesn't know how Alec does it. The room is immaculate, the clothes and jewellery a neat stack on the coffee table.

He watches Alec put his things away. It doesn't take long until he folds the boxes and finds a place for the suitcases.

“You said you loved reading. Where are all your books?” Magnus asks.

“On my tablet.”

“You only read eBooks?”

Alec shrugs. “There's not a lot of space in the Institute rooms that are reserved for studying reservists.”

“You still lived in an Institute?”

“My parents were the heads of the New York Institute until Mom was called back to Idris and Dad was transferred to L.A. for disciplinary reasons.”

“Disciplinary reasons?”

“The Clave likes to keep its worker bees on their toes,” Alec says, not meeting his eyes.

“Does that have something to do with yesterday?” Magnus asks. Alec stiffens minutely before he walks to his desk and puts his found tablet down.

“Can I have WIFI access?” he asks. Magnus hates that he hit the nail on the head.

“Of course. I can fetch you the—” The door opening cuts him off.

“My apologies, Your Royal Highness,” the servant says, clearly startled at the sight in front of him.

“No need to apologise, Elias. Are those the selected newspapers for my husband?”

Elias nods. That means there are no mentions of Camille in them. The whole reporting will be hard enough to digest as it is.

“Thank you. Could you please tell the kitchen that we're up? We'll have breakfast in my living room.”

“Of course, Sir.” And with that, Elias disappears as quickly as he arrived. Magnus watches the tenseness in Alec's shoulders when he picks up the top newspaper. He walks over to him to get a better look of his face. His eyelids are twitching nervously.

Magnus puts his hand on Alec's back and glances at the headline.

Unexpected Twist at Royal Wedding: Prince Alec Between Tradition and Identity

“That's good as far as possible headlines go,” Magnus says. Alec nods, staring at the pictures the editor decided to put on the front page. There's no bride version of Alec in sight. Magnus should buy their PR team a gift basket as big as the palace itself. They briefed the loyal press perfectly, so it seems.

In a royal wedding that had the nation abuzz with anticipation for a historic same-sex union, Prince Magnus’ groom, Alexander of Alicante, was presented by his family as a bride, creating an atmosphere of confusion and concern amongst the masses in the streets that had gathered to celebrate the union. As the festivities unfolded, Prince Alexander courageously shed this imposed identity, presenting his true self. This not only captivated guests but also sparked discussions on personal authenticity within cultural frameworks. The event serves as a poignant reminder of the complexities surrounding identity in modern life.

“Alexander?” Magnus tries to pull his attention away from the papers. “Are you alright?”

“That's the official line, right?”

Magnus wets his lips. “Yes. We're treading lightly while not denying what happened.”

Alec nods. “Other news outlets won't be as restrained.”

“Probably not,” Magnus allows. “But we don't need to consume those. Leave that to our PR and legal departments. We're leaving tonight.”

“We are?”

Magnus quirks an unsteady smile. “I wanted you to decide where our honeymoon would lead us, but given the circumstances, I thought it better to take the initiative.”

“Where are we going?”

“To a private little island in the Caribbean, a place where no one cares for royal weddings and where the weather is nice and warm.”

Alec nods, frowning. “I like fall. It's my favourite season.”

“We won't be away for too long, Alexander. Just until the storm settles. And after that, we can go wherever you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Alec replies with a not very believable smile. Magnus pulls him into a side hug and presses a kiss to his temple. Getting away from everything will do both of them good.

Chapter Text

“Aren't you hungry?” Magnus asks, looking up from his newspapers. Alec thought he was flying under the radar when his husband started reading, but no such luck.

“I fear I'd get sick if I ate more. I'm still full from the midnight buffet.” It's a white lie. It's true that he feels nauseated, but he didn't eat that much. He couldn't, but not for lack of trying. All the people who had refrained from talking to him all day had queued up, one after another. Even his father-in-law.

“I see you have decided to shed the snake skin,” Asmodeus said. “I must say: You made a rather attractive bride. Made me consider installing the droit du seigneur.”

Alec felt like he was going to be sick.

“No worries, Your Royal Highness. I was being facetious, of course. My son will love to introduce you to your connubialities,” Asmodeus said in a salacious voice. Alec's eyes searched for Magnus but he was in deep conversation on the other side of the room. Alec should have stayed by his side. This was all his fault. Again.

“I must say, Idris outdid itself. I expected the Clave to act foolish, but when my son came to me after the ball, proposing to pursue you… I couldn't have dreamt up this brilliant outcome.”

Alec froze. Had this been Magnus’ plan all along? Seducing the virgin, gay, trans Shadowhunter and using him to rattle a country he wasn't allowed to conquer any longer?

Could that be true? It would explain the so carelessly given kiss at his bachelor party. Maybe Magnus had wanted Isabelle to tell him, for Alec to get wind of the scandal and cop out of their marriage. Maybe he'd liked him enough to try to spare him the ridicule. Either way, they were fully and completely married now in the eyes of both their homelands. Unless…

“Idris made a laughing stock of itself on the world stage,” Asmodeus drawled with barely hidden enjoyment. “It'll take them years if not decades to recover from this. The first foreign governments are already asking for Institutes to be shut down due to your country's stance on LGBTQ rights. Did you know that your Institutes are roughly fifty per cent of Idris’ income? Your whole economy might just collapse if that money source dries out.”

Alec gulped. He should warn his parents, should tell them to never return to Idris. The Clave loves to put blame on others.

“Of course, with an Edom baby born by a Shadowhunter… things could be arranged.”

“W–what do you mean?”

“Well, I'm sure you studied our history and practices in preparation for the wedding.”

Alec nodded.

“Then you should know what we expect from you. You have twelve months to seal your marriage with a child. Then I might feel generous enough to help your home country back on its feet, financially or as a strong ally.”

Alec hit a bout of dizziness, the word ‘we’ buzzing in his head. He held back tears again for the umpteenth time that day, this time with a breaking heart.

“I'm sure you won't refuse your king's demand,” Asmodeus added. Alec shook his head. Magnus made it clear earlier that he could only be ordered by the king from now on.

“Understood, Sir,” Alec pressed through clenched teeth. Once a soldier, always a soldier.

“We'll have lunch with your parents at one,” Magnus says. Alec blinks himself out of the memory. What were they talking about? Ah, food. Right.

“I'll tell the kitchen to prepare you a snack for after your hairdresser appointment,” Magnus continues. Alec hums in recognition. He will agree to everything. He sold his freedom to the devil for a piece of happiness that might not even come. His heart doesn't want to fully believe it though. Their kisses felt so real. Magnus’ words sounded honest, too. Maybe it was wishful thinking on Alec's part. But maybe the spark was real. Maybe, for once, Alec being good will make someone love him in the end.

Alec quirks a smile towards Magnus’ personal hairdresser. She returns a warm one.

“I'm so happy to meet you,” Lily says, stretching out her hand. “Magnus talked my ears off about you yesterday when I did his hair for the ceremony.”

Alec shakes her hand, a little baffled. No stiff titles, no curtseys, no protocol, just normal interaction. She also looks a little out of place here with her punky hair and large tattoos spilling out from under her skimpy dress. He won't complain. This is way more his ballgame, and he doesn't feel like he is sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Hi,” he presses out, looking at the moth tattooed on her throat. It moves as she chuckles.

“Magnus didn't mention you were a shy one,” Lily says.

“Because he isn't, darling,” Magnus cuts in. “Thank you for freeing your Sunday morning for us.”

Alec nods in agreement. He's still feeling off, like he's got a hangover or something. Maybe he should have slept a little longer, but the thought of the state of his room didn't allow him to. Magnus was rather gracious about it, even though he looked pretty tired. Or was it because he wasn't wearing make-up? He is now, looking way fresher. Alec could do with some, too, judging by his reflection when Lily motions him to sit down on the chair. Alec closes his eyes. He looks ridiculous. At least as “Nia”, he looked presentable. He hates the pictures on the front page of Edom's court loyal newspapers. He looks like a wannabe Brad Pitt. Vampire style indeed. Ridiculous.

Magnus and Lily's chatter is a low humming he can't really follow. He zones out until Magnus squeezes his shoulder.

“Alec?” How often did he say his name before?

“Hm?”

“Lily asked how you wanted your hair cut?”

Alec shrugs. “However you like,” he replies. He has to fit in at court, after all.

“The way you wore it on your birthday?” Magnus asks.

“How do you…?”

“Isabelle sent me the selfie she took with you.”

Alec quirks a sad smile. His sister has a way closer relationship to his husband than he has, and way less baggage. Maybe Magnus should have chosen her. Magnus could be having easy pillow talk with her now instead of an awkward spouse who can't even face himself in the mirror.

“My old haircut is fine with me,” Alec says. He just wants these extensions gone. And his eyebrows back, but that will take a little while.

Lily takes a look at Magnus’ phone and nods. “A classic. It suits your face, makes your cheekbones pop.”

Lily is right. They are pretty pronounced. If he needs them to pop, he's not so sure. He thinks it makes his face just more clockabale, but that's probably just his dysphoria whispering into his ear. How did one of his fellow recruits once put it? He's too pretty for a man.

“Do you need the mirror?” Alec asks.

“Not really. Why?”

“Could you…?” he gestures towards it, shame washing over him. He should be strong enough to endure the look of himself, but he isn't.

“Of course,” Lily says and throws her scarf over the mirror. “Let's get these things off you.”

Alec doesn't dare look at Magnus. He must think him silly or weak. Alec couldn't stand either. He feels like a fragile leaf in the middle of a storm. And he has to face his parents later before they leave the court. Will he ever see them again? Will Magnus allow him to visit them wherever they might find a new home? Magnus is rightfully angry at them. Alec should have covered up better that they are the reason for this whole debacle. He just hopes Magnus won't order his people to dig into their past. Who wants children from a man who is the cause of the death of some of your own? If Maryse could have returned, more Downworlders would have been saved. Alec will always have their blood on his hands. His existence was cursed right from the start. Well, he's a Bane now. A fitting name.

Lily works quickly and in silence, Alec's head feeling lighter and lighter by the minute. He's glad that no one expects him to make smalltalk. He'd probably say something stupid, embarrassing Magnus in front of the only woman who ‘understands’ his hair.

Alec runs his fingers over his thighs, digging into the flesh to chase the sting of inflamed skin and the grounding that comes with it. It helps a little. ‘It's just a crutch,’ he tells himself. He won't need it much longer, just until he feels more like himself again.

“Your Royal Highness, Dr Garroway has arrived,” Elias informs.

“Thank you. He's here for you, Alexander,” Magnus says. Alec looks at him in surprise. “He'll give you a check-up.”

“I just had one,” Alec protests. A fertility one. Just a few more days, and he'll be ‘ripe as a cherry’ as the queen's doctor put it so pointedly.

“No offense, but I want my personal physician to take care of you from now on.”

Alec nods in understanding. This way, Magnus has control over his body. It should flatter him, how much Magnus cares about him, but Alec can't shake the feeling that this will be just another how-to-get-Alec-pregnant-as-fast-as-possible consultation. He prays that he is one of the lucky 25%. This will be hard enough as it is. A honeymoon baby would take some pressure off, for sure.

“I'm nearly done,” Lily says. “You have beautiful hair to work with, Alec. Very healthy.”

"Thank you,” Alec croaks. It's silly that the small compliment works like a patch. It only covers a small area, but it feels nice on a soul cluttered with paper cuts.

“You look very handsome,” Magnus says. Alec knows he's just being kind. Or calculating. It doesn't matter. Alec will pay heed to his mother's advice.

“Thank you, Magnus,” he says. Maybe, his husband even means it.

“Do you wanna see it?” Magnus asks. Alec shakes his head. He'll have to eventually, but he can't risk a breakdown. He has to make a good first impression on the doctor. If there even is a chance for a first one. Dr Garroway might prefer reading Edom's Eye over the Edom Chronicle.

Magnus leads him over to his living room and introduces him to ‘Luke.’ Much to Alec's surprise, he bids goodbye after a short conversation. Will he talk to the doctor later or is this truly a private consultation?

Alec nearly bursts with the question, so he asks it.

“Everything we share is protected by physician-patient privilege. Not even the king can break that. Unless you give me permission, I won't tell a single soul.”

“Not even your accountant?”

Luke chuckles warmly. “I receive a princely salary for my work. There is no individual billing, Sir.”

“Alec,” he corrects him.

“Alec,” Luke repeats with a smile. “Your vitals look fine. On which kind of testosterone are you?”

Alec wets his lips. “Right now? None.”

Surprise runs over Luke's face. “Is there a reason for that? Complications or…?”

Alec swallows hard. “No. I was very happy with my shots.”

“Then why? Were you deprived?”

Yes. Yes he was. And poisoned with the wrong hormones that his body, the traitor, is just too willing to produce again. But it's for the greater good, right?

“It's hard to get pregnant on T,” Alec mumbles.

“You're trying to conceive?”

“It's my duty.”

Luke clearly ponders his next words before he asks, “Are you comfortable with the thought of being pregnant?”

“It doesn't matter what I'm comfortable with,” Alec states matter-of-factly. “It must be done.”

“I'm sure your husband is willing to go other routes if this is—”

“The king was clear in his order.”

Boy, was he.

Luke breathes a sigh. “You should take folic acid then.”

“Already on it. Idris’ doctor prepared me well for this.”

Luke nods in understanding. “So your vaccines are up to date?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should summon me when you think you might be pregnant. I suppose you won't want to ask a servant to fetch you a test.”

Alec shakes his head. He hadn't even thought so far, the mechanics of conception on the forefront of his mind, and not in a sexy way.

“If you need anything… Here is my card,” Luke says. “I hope you'll have a great honeymoon.”

On an isolated island. Far away from curious eyes and a single soul he could bear his heart to. But well. He lived on an isolated island before, he supposes. And it's not as if he could share his struggles with Isabelle anymore. How is he supposed to ever trust her again? And Jace? He's not the right person for a conversation like that. And he can't risk Magnus not getting it up for the deed, so he is out, too. He might not find him attractive anyway. Alec is no Camille, and he is no George either. But maybe, in the dark, under a blanket… they'll find a way to make this work. Magnus expects to have a baby, too.

Chapter Text

Never in his life has Magnus wanted to kill someone the way he wants to strangle his parents-in-law right now. How they manage to sit at his father's table with their heads held high is astounding. Robert's eyes are sorrowful, at least. But Maryse. She is the picture of a perfect royal, great at making conversation without touching one sore subject, the perfect diplomat. No wonder that Alec strove to follow in her footsteps. He learnt from the best.

Maryse doesn't meet his eyes, however, despite acting as if this was just a normal meet-the-in-laws lunch. It sure isn't. Alec has been soldiering through it like a champ. He kissed his mother on her cheeks and shook his father's hand before Robert pulled him close. He bowed in front of his king. He's a perfectly trained and very disciplined man, who doesn't let it show that what his parents did was and is still torturing him. He smiles at appropriate moments, he listens, he shares. He doesn't complain, doesn't argue, doesn't fight. Magnus wishes he would.

He thinks about the shawl over the mirror, Alec's unspoken insistence to get changed in the bathroom, the way he hasn't sought physical comfort all day. He jumped naked into a lake with him two months ago, kissed him with their skin pressing against each other. Now, he can't even ask for closeness outside of bed. What if it will stay like this? What if Alec's spirit is broken for good, leaving behind a puppet on a string, following along without input, without joy, without life?

Magnus pushes away those thoughts. He mustn't think like that. Alec can heal now. Intimacy will return to them, grow and flourish. His eyebrows will grow back, he will eat again. God, Magnus hopes he will eat again. More than the few morsels he clearly forced into himself to please him. He's gotten so slim, probably to fit into that cursed dress.

The perfect bride.

Those words will haunt Magnus forever. Why did he speak them? Why did he hurt him like that? Alec was already wounded. Did he lose his trust? Alec barely talks to him. He hasn't talked with his siblings, either. Magnus doesn't know enough about their usual dynamics to judge if that behaviour is normal or not, but given that he and Alec aren't exactly celebrating their honeymoon already, he thinks it's probably a bad sign that Alec hasn't even asked to speak to them.

Alec quirks a smile when they join them at the table. It doesn't reach his eyes. Isabelle hugs him close. Jace pats his back. It breaks Magnus’ heart. It seems as if all the fight has left his brother-in-law. Or maybe he doesn't want to escalate an already fragile situation. Max is the only one who seems unfazed, although Magnus guesses that he's smarter than he seems, navigating the situation with mirth, weaving in Alec's name and gender into the conversation so often, it has to be on purpose. He must be shook, too. Most of his life, he had a big brother in Alec.

“When will you leave?” Asmodeus asks conversationally.

“We're heading to the airport at 3.30,” Robert replies.

“You're leaving together?” Alec asks.

“Yes,” Maryse replies. “Order of the queen.”

“This could be a trap,” Alec presses out. Magnus frowns at him. Why the hell is his husband still worrying about these people? For all Magnus cares, they can rot in hell till the end of times.

“The queen herself guaranteed us immunity," Robert says.

“Immunity from what?” Isabelle asks.

“That's Clave business,” Alec replies before anyone else can.

“Don't you think your siblings deserve to know what yesterday's sacrifices were made for?” Magnus asks. He thinks he deserves to know, too, but that's a different kettle of fish.

Alec's lips quiver. “Ignorance is bliss, Magnus.”

“Is it?” Jace asks. “Because I wanna know why my brother had to suffer like that.”

Had. Ignorance is bliss, indeed.

“These are probably the last minutes we'll ever have together. Can we just be normal and embarrass me with childhood stories or something?” Alec says, glancing at Magnus, whose stomach lurches at the glimpse of sadness and fear in Alec's eyes.

“Why would this be the last time we see each other?” Max asks.

“Because I am a Downworlder now, Max, a member of the House of Bane. This dynasty has a rich history and very particular rules for spouses. While the country is progressive, the royal family is steeped in tradition. I will submit to my husband's guidance, and while I hope that he can forgive our parents for the role they played in past events, my duty in keeping marital peace might lead to him deciding that it is better for crown and country that I cut all ties with Idris.”

Magnus opens his mouth to speak, to protest that he isn't a monster, that he would never isolate Alec the way his parents did. But Isabelle beats him to it.

“You're still a Lightwood, Alec.”

“No, I'm not.”

Magnus and Isabelle share a silent conversation across the table. Alec clearly didn't read what he signed at the temple. The document needs to be redone anyway with the wrong forename and all, but his new passport is clear as day.

“Alexander,” Magnus starts but Asmodeus cuts him off.

“I am glad that the prince consort understands the graveness of the situation. I'm not planning on banning your family from the country, but reparations have to be paid for the pain inflicted on my son. A time to solely focus on the future of his new family seems sensible to me.”

“Father!” Magnus protests.

“It's alright,” Alec says, sounding as if he was willing to excavate his own grave if ordered to. Once more, he is offering someone the knife to stab him with on a silver platter.

“So this is goodbye,” Jace says. Clary squeezes his hand in sympathy. Magnus doesn't dare to touch Alec's, his husband a statue of stone.

“It's for the best,” Alec says, his unsteady voice betraying his emotions.

No, it isn't, but Magnus can't oppose his father's verdict. Not in front of others. He is bound by his lineage, and now, Alec is cursed by it, too.

Alec tries to unclench his hands all the way back to Magnus’ palace. He can't, too tense with no way to relax his racing mind and rigid body. Magnus hasn't said a single word to him the whole way back. He's nice enough to help him out of the car as a dizzy spell hits Alec without warning. He looks more sad than angry. Alec wishes it were the latter. With anger, he can deal. Disappointment, he can handle. But sadness? He carries so much pent-up inside of himself, but he learnt early on not to invoke it in others.

“We should postpone our departure,” Magnus says as the gravel of the driveway scrunches under their feet.

“Why?”

“It's a long flight, and you don't look good, Alexander.”

“I'm fine,” he says.

“No, you're not.”

“So now you're an expert on my feelings?” it spills out of Alec. Magnus doesn't take the bait.

“No, of course not. But you just offered up your family as a sacrifice to the king. Without reason, if I might add. You have no one left in your life but me, and I don't feel like we're on common ground right now. I don't wanna risk—” Magnus’ eyes go up to Alec's windows that stand open to air his place out. Alec swallows hard. He viscerally remembers the sound of Isabelle calling him in panic. If she thought he let the darkness claim him…

“I would never,” Alec presses out.

“I know,” Magnus says, turning towards him. “Look, you don't have to explain yourself. I've been through it myself.”

Alec's heart cracks. A man such as Magnus, strong and powerful—what a waste it would be, what a loss. Despite the chasm between them, Alec doesn't want to imagine a world without the light of Magnus’ soul illuminating it.

“Just promise you'll tell me if things ever get that bad,” Magnus pleads.

“I…” Alec doesn't know what to say. He could never explain his feelings of terror and depression to anyone. He wasn't taught to share his emotions, to invite others in to see and heal his darker side. All he can do is to mellow Magnus’ sadness and give them a real shot at finding a way back to each other. His future is bound to Magnus’ for the time being, for better or for worse.

“I think I could do with the distraction of a vacation,” he says. “I can't remember the last time I swam in the ocean.”

Sometime before his coming out, before puberty hit him like a wrecking ball.

“Are you sure?”

Alec nods. Magnus needs this, too. At least there, Asmodeus can't drop in any second or order them to come over. Alec hates that man. If ever there was a good reason for seeing Downworlders as demon-blooded and evil, then it would be because of people like Asmodeus who use soft words to tear you into pieces.

Magnus gives him a wry smile. “We should pack then. I will send Elias to help you when he's done with mine. I gave most of my servants off this weekend, because of the celebrations.”

Alec can't help but smile. “That was very generous of you. You'll be a good king, one day.”

Magnus huffs a laugh that doesn't hold much mirth. “The rulers of this country tend to die of old age. I'll likely be like Charles, the king-in-waiting until my own kids are already turning grey.”

“That means you can be there for them as they grow up and when they build their own families.”

A gentle smile blooms on Magnus’ lips. “You're right. I haven't considered what a great gift that would be… especially sharing all of that with you,” he says, cupping Alec's cheek gently before he places a kiss on his lips, sweet and warm like the autumn colours surrounding them.

Magnus won't only be a good king, but a great dad, too. Alec can feel it in his bones. All of a sudden, the thought of building a family with this man doesn't seem so frightening anymore.

Chapter Text

“Well, look who decided to join us!” Alec says when he comes over to fetch his toothbrush from Magnus’ bathroom. Magnus looks up from his afternoon tea, a smile growing on his lips.

"Someone who hid from us all day,” Magnus chuckles and puts the small grey cat that was lying in his lap on the floor. Alec crouches down, offering his hand.

“Hello, Chairman Meow. I heard a lot about you. I'm Alec.”

The cat walks closer with curious eyes. He noses on Alec's fingers, then presses his tiny head into his hand. Alec smiles, ruffling the cat's fur. He looks up at Magnus, who is smiling at him softly.

“He likes you,” Magnus says.

“He probably likes everybody who scratches him behind the ears.”

Magnus shakes his head. “I know from experience that that isn't the case.”

He doesn't elaborate, and Alec doesn't pry. He doesn't want to put his foot in his mouth again. The past few hours went by without an incident, probably because both of them were busy with packing and other things. Alec had a mild breakdown when he realised he would never wear his dress uniform again. Next to his wedding suit, it's the best clothing he owns, and it is worth nothing but nostalgia. There was probably more to it than that but Alec is good at compartmentalisation. And repression.

Alec sits down on the floor and cradles the cat to his chest. It finally feels a little more normal again, the phantom feeling of breasts slowly subsiding. Chairman pushes his cute face against his neck. Alec chuckles and closes his eyes. He missed having a cat when he left for the Academy. Church died when he started uni. His mother never got another cat. But this one seems to have adopted him already.

“Do you have a cat sitter for him?” Alec asks.

“I have but he'll actually travel with us this time, if you don't mind having him around. My friend has cats, too, so everything he might need is already on the island,” Magnus explains.

Alec chuckles. He wonders if that is a rich people thing. They sure never took Church with them. He lived in the New York Institute as long as Alec can remember.

“You've probably travelled to more countries than I have,” he jokes to the cat.

“How many have you visited?” Magnus asks.

“Privately? Three. The US, the UK, and now Edom. For archery I competed in several countries on an international level, but that doesn't really count as visiting.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn't see more than hotels, bus shuttles, and competition areas.”

“But you grew up in different Institutes, right? At least that's what your exposé said.”

“Exposé?”

Magnus purses his lips. “There was an article about you in the yellow press. Someone took a picture of us talking at the Hôtel Du Mort and started digging.”

Alec cuddles Chairman a little closer. “So even if I hadn't been a bride, the whole world would have known that I'm trans.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “We listed your athletic achievements in the wedding announcement, too. I guess earlier or later, that would have outed you. I'm sorry, Alexander. I… I still have a lot to learn when it comes to that.”

“It's alright. I wouldn't have been able to live stealth for long anyway. At least no one can claim we tried to hide it.”

Magnus runs his pointer over the rim of his tea cup and hums in agreement.

“That first evening on the balcony, you asked me a question,” Alec says. “You asked me if I was a queer man.”

Magnus hums. “And you denied it.”

Alec huffs a laugh. “I guess, now I am at least out.”

“You already were, to those who mattered.”

“I know. It's just… I was so cut off from my… sexuality. I could have never claimed to be queer.”

“Even if you were straight, you're still trans. Doesn't that make you queer by default?”

Alec wets his lips. “I suppose. But ‘queer’... that feels like a label for someone who is proud of who they are.”

“Are you not? You went through so much trouble to be yourself.”

“As you said: I did things to survive. I got top surgery but no hysterectomy because the T took care of my menses. I trained harder than anyone and took on male recruits to prove to my parents that I could fight like a man way before I chose my name or started testosterone. Yes, I went through all of that, but proud?” Alec shrugs. “No. I've never been.”

“You will,” Magnus says matter-of-factly. Somehow, it sounds like a promise.

Alec puts Chairman's pet carrier on the ground and hands the immigration officer his passport. It's weird. Everything is new. The crest on the front, the colour of it, his name, his nationality. He couldn't make himself look at the details yet. It's a bit overwhelming, and Alec has just managed to calm down a little, even got some much needed sleep. The jetlag will be cruel. Or not. Magnus hasn't mentioned any sightseeing trips or things like that. Maybe they'll just hang around the house and sit at the beach all day. Which would be a challenge. Alec isn't good at being idle. Too much time to think.

“Have a wonderful stay Mr Lightwood-Bane,” the immigration officer says as he hands back his passport.

“Mr What?” he asks. The man looks at him, then at Magnus, who starts chuckling.

“He just got married,” he explains and weaves his fingers between Alec's.

“Congratulations,” the officer says. Alec mutters a thank you. Magnus grabs Chairman Meow and pulls Alec to the waiting car that will bring them to the harbour.

“The man said…”

“He did,” Magnus smirks.

“You hyphenated my name?” Alec asks as he slides into the backseat.

“I hyphenated our name.”

“You did not!”

Magnus chuckles, sounding delighted.

“What did your father say to that?”

“I didn't ask him.”

“You d— Magnus!”

“Relax, Alexander. It's okay. Trust me. My father will take it as a political sign of peace between our peoples. He doesn't need to know that I wanted to carry your name from the moment you put that ring on my finger.”

Alec's eyes go to Magnus’ hand. He takes it into his own, running his thumb over the letters.

“Magnus Lightwood-Bane,” he says reverently.

“Sounds so much better, don't you think?”

Alec can't help but smile. Everything is easier when it's just the two of them. Well, maybe not everything, but many things for sure.

“If you say so.” Yes. Yes it does. It sounds perfect.

“Aren't you happy with it?”

The sound of Magnus’ voice makes Alec look up from the rings into unsure eyes.

“I… Emotions are hard right now. I'm sorry. It's a lovely surprise. I just worry you might regret it one day.”

“Why would I regret it?”

“Because Lightwood is an old Shadowhunters name.”

“And Bane is an old Downworlder name. Our union won't erase what our families did to each other's people, but we can be proof that even centuries of war can end in peace.”

Alec nods. Magnus is right, of course. But would he say the same if he knew the role his parents played and he by default?

The burden of that question weighs heavy on Alec's heart. Will it ever get lighter?

Magnus runs his thumb over Alec's knuckles. “Did you check the news yesterday?” he asks.

“I was tempted but…”

“It's better than I thought,” Magnus says.

“I heard a rumour,” Alec starts but trails off.

“A rumour?”

“That foreign entities are demanding the closure of Institutes.”

Magnus’ lovely features distort in a frown. “Who told you that?”

“It doesn't matter,” Alec says. He doesn't want to bring Asmodeus between them. He's a sore spot for both of them.

“Well, there were discussions of demanding clarification, but I doubt that those will lead to closures. There will most likely be requests for Idris to guarantee discrimination-free services, but… I think many countries are dependent on the knowledge and skills your Institutes provide. There is no one who could replace them.”

“So, lip service will suffice?”

“Yes, very likely. Is that why you were worried that your family returned home together?”

Alec nods.

“If anything were to happen to them, I would ask my father to intervene.”

Alec gives him a disbelieving look. “You hate them.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “I'm not their greatest fan, to put it mildly, but you still care for them, and your well-being is my sole concern in all of this.”

“If the economy doesn't crash, they'll be fine,” Alec states.

“And you?”

“I'm not a Shadowhunter anymore.” That hurt to say. Dammit!

Magnus runs his fingers over the rune on Alec's neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “Some things can never be erased, Alexander,” he says, his voice oil on the troubled waters of Alec's soul. “I don't doubt that you'll be a good prince to the people of Edom, but you won't lose your roots because of it. Idris is still your home, even though you will spend the rest of your life in Edom.”

Alec nods. He wondered what an annulment of their marriage would mean for him. Would he be sent back to Idris? Would he live as a disgraced royal in Edom? He should probably check the track record of Edom's monarchs, but there is time. He's fertile, so…

“The welcome of the Edom people was hearty—until I turned up.”

“It will keep on being hearty, you'll see, Alexander. We already have a few public appearances scheduled. Nothing too taxing. You'll be the beloved prince consort in no time.”

“What kinds of appearances?”

“The opening of a new wing at the Royal Children's Hospital, a wreath-laying ceremony on Remembrance Day, stuff like that.”

“Remembrance Day?” Alec croaks. Well, that surely will go down well. How many lives of those remembered were taken by his people?

“It's been part of my duties for the past few years,” Magnus explains. “You don't have to join me, I just thought…”

“It would be a powerful statement,” Alec says.

“And the pictures might erase the others.”

“That's not why I will do it.”

“You will?”

Alec nods. “Will there be a speech?”

“I usually say a few words.”

Alec exhales. “Would you…? Could I?”

Magnus’ eyes search his face for a long moment before he says firmly, “You don't have to carry the guilt of your people on your shoulders, Alexander.”

How can Magnus read him so well already?

“Someone has to,” Alec says. Maybe, he can do penance for his people and for himself. Maybe, forgiveness will be granted.

Chapter Text

Magnus stares at Alec before the backdrop of the ocean. Where others would lounge, he sits, upright with crossed legs, fingers painting something in the sand before him.

“It's nice out here, isn't it?” Magnus asks, handing Alec a glass of iced tea. He didn't miss the way Alec's eyes widened when he showed him around. He probably imagined a small hut, not the huge villa his friend had built on the island.

“Yeah. Surreal,” Alec replies.

“What do you mean?” Magnus asks, sitting down next to him.

“On the way to the airport, I had to borrow your coat, and now…”

Magnus smiles at the memory. Alec wearing his clothes is doing something to him. First, his pyjamas, now the navy coat he has never much worn but that suits Alec so perfectly, as if it had just waited in Magnus’ walk-in closet for him.

Magnus’ tailor will have a lot to do after their return. Alec's wardrobe leaves much to be desired. Magnus knows he's a bit of a fashionista, but Alec's clothing collection is just sad, even for a commoner, which Magnus suspects Alec is at heart. It does make sense. Pretty much every Shadowhunters family with a good reputation is royal somehow.

Not that Magnus would complain. Most of his friends are commoners, most of his exes, too, and for good reason. Would he have allowed Camille to trample all over him for so long if she didn't have a title?

He pushes away the thought of her and studies the runes Alec drew into the sand. The one Magnus knows is already fading on their wrists.

“What do these runes mean?” Magnus asks. He's wanted to learn more about them ever since he saw those usually hidden under clothes in the moonlight at Lake Lynn. He thought Alec had just the one on his neck and the Angelic one on his forearm. But no. There are many more on his body. Not that Magnus has yet had time to count them. He will, one day, will ask Alec for their meaning and why he chose them for himself. But first the ones in the sand.

“Equilibrium. Guidance. Wedded rune,” Alec says, pointing at each.

“Do you seek those two?” Magnus asks, in awe of the beautiful forms and meanings.

“I'm still off,” Alec says. “And it's… it's pretty overwhelming with no one to guide me.”

Magnus stomach clenches, but he doesn't blame his husband. The people Alec used to rely on not only turned out to be a disappointment at large, he is also cut off from those he might usually reach out to.

“I know we still have to get to know each other more, but if I can help in any way…” Magnus offers. He wants to be Alec's confidant, someone Alec lets go around physically and emotionally.

Alec breathes a sigh before he quirks a smile. “I appreciate that very much, it's just… I don't know if you can understand half of it.”

“I could try.”

Alec huffs a laugh and takes Magnus’ hand, oh-so-gently. Magnus watches his face relaxing with the touch. Alec needs this little so much, it makes Magnus’ heart ache. He should reach out more often, show him that he needs that kind of connection, too. If he just hadn't trained himself not to be ‘so needy’ as Camille once put it.

“It feels good to be near you,” Alec confesses. “I felt so disconnected from you.”

“Because you were,” Magnus says. “I felt disconnected, too. So much has happened…”

Alec nods. “I was so scared that you'd reject me.”

Magnus exhales raggedly. “You already were my husband. Why would I reject you?”

“There was that moment,” Alec croaks, “when you asked me who I was…”

Magnus closes his eyes against the wave of emotions threatening to pull him under. Alec must have been so scared.

“It's a miracle, sitting here, next to you, holding your hand. I hope you know how grateful I am to be here,” Alec says.

“I'm glad you are. I wouldn't want to share this with anyone else.”

Alec's eyes widen. In surprise? Or is it something else? Magnus isn't sure.

“You mean that?” Alec asks.

Magnus frowns at the question. “I wouldn't say it if I didn't.”

Alec nods but his face is closing off again. Magnus doesn't know what he did wrong. He could ask, but that hasn't gone down well in the past. He promised himself to learn from his mistakes and avoid them with Alec. His husband doesn't need to deal with his baggage. Alec has enough of his own.

“Honesty is very important to me,” Magnus says.

“What do you wanna know?”

Magnus is surprised by Alec's openness. He wasn't expecting that reaction. It figures.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with sharing. Just like before all of this. I will never pressure you into sharing things, Alexander. But if you have something on your mind…”

Alec nods, the familiar furrowed brow back on display. It's cute in a way. It drew Magnus in right from the start. What reason could there have been for such a gorgeous, privileged man to frown like that? Magnus understands it better now, but still… Since George, his partners have been rather unconcerned with many things. Because of that, they could nourish parts of Magnus that needed fun and joy, distraction from the cruelty of life. Of course, it still came to bite him in the arse. First Imasu, then Etta… No one stayed in the end, the only returning variable Camille, who stuck in his flesh like a thorn. But not any longer. Alec is filling all his senses. As he should. But it's not duty that is spurring Magnus on. For a change, he might be a good match for someone.

“Didn't my sister tell you I'm a brooder?” Alec asks. It sounds surprisingly playful.

“She alluded to it, once or twice,” Magnus replies with amusement.

“I can be fun, too,” Alec says. Magnus refrains from sighing. Alec might take it the wrong way.

“So, she said, too.”

“I will adjust to your lifestyle, Magnus.”

“I know, you will. I just wanna make sure that you can be happy while doing it. You don't have to pretend to like things if you don't.”

Alec shrugs. “I don't have to pretend to be a woman. That makes me happy.”

“That's a low bar,” Magnus states. Alec probably thinks it isn't, that being addressed and being allowed to present as a man is the height of acceptance, not the mere minimum.

Alec takes a sip of his iced tea. “Mmh, this is good.”

“It's my super secret recipe,” Magnus whispers, leaning towards him.

“I thought you had a private chef preparing our food.”

“I have. But I like to conjure up a few things in the kitchen, now and then.”

“I can cook about ten different meals.”

“You're ahead of me then. I'm more of a breakfast staple guy, and while my Belgian waffles are a dream, my pancakes still have room for improvement.”

“You're lucky to have a chef, then,” Alec chuckles.

“You like pancakes?”

“All of them. American, crêpes, palatschinken…”

“You're a connoisseur, I see.”

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth,” Alec says, sounding apologetic. Magnus can't allow that to fester.

“Have you ever had kaiserschmarrn?” he asks.

“What's that?”

“A thick Austrian pancake, torn into pieces, powdered with sugar. I've seen it served with raisins and jam or apple sauce.”

Alec's eyes beam when he says, “That sounds incredible.” It makes Magnus’ heart flutter.

“I shall instruct the chef to make it for breakfast then.”

“Magnus,” Alec protests. Magnus doesn't understand why. Alec could do with food he actually enjoys eating. Mentioning Alec's weight surely isn't a good idea, however. He doesn't need to, anyway. Magnus will simply feed him well and the rest will happen naturally.

“I haven't had it in ages, Alexander. Thank you for reminding me of it. I ate it pretty much every day when I visited friends in Austria.”

“It must be great if you like it that much,” Alec says.

“It's often the simple things that are the best,” Magnus replies.

“I hope you hold that thought throughout our marriage,” Alec quips. Still, he looks nervous somehow.

Magnus gives him a soft smile. “There's nothing simple about you, Alexander, and I like that. My mysterious husband.”

“I'm pretty plain, Magnus.”

“I suppose we have to agree to disagree on that.” Not that Magnus would ever accept Alec keeping that self-image. But change needs time. And they have the rest of their lives for that.

Chapter Text

Equilibrium.

Alec yearns for it. He still hasn't found his footing again. When he manages not to think – which in itself is a miracle – he can enjoy Magnus’ presence, his closeness on the beach and his caring eyes. But now and again, he is reminded of their current predicament of starting a life together with several women as old baggage standing between them. Well, one of them never was a woman, but that version of Alec still manages to ruin everything. Even his honeymoon. Together with the picture of Camille kissing his husband burnt into his mind.

Alec should be angry, should demand an explanation, an apology. But he's too afraid of what Magnus might tell him.

“I've never fallen out of love with someone.”

That's what Magnus said. Did Camille break up with him? Was he still in love with her when Asmodeus ordered him to marry for peace?

“When my son came to me after the ball, proposing to pursue you…”

Alec can't decide what would be worse. Maybe even both things are true. Does he even want to know? For him, this was a marriage for love, not consideration. If Magnus just married him to harm Idris…

But would he be so nice if he did? He hyphenated their names. Besides, would he talk about Austrian pancakes and allow him to hold his hand?

But what does Alec know? He thought his parents loved him, that they supported his transition, and understood his suffering. He thought he and his siblings had a close bond. And when Magnus kissed him back, when he beamed at him as they got married for the first time…

Maybe Magnus is simply a good actor, playing Alec like a fiddle. Alec's stupid heart still insists that Magnus is into him. But they haven't consummated their marriage yet. If Magnus were truly interested, wouldn't he have made a move already? Maybe it is his plan for Asmodeus to annule it. No heir, no future. Not for them, at least. Maybe that kiss was a promise caught on camera, something for Camille to hold on to while Magnus fools the world and his husband.

Should Alec try to seduce him? How? Magnus has had so many lovers before him. What could Alec bring to the table apart from virgin Shadowhunter energy?

But he's a man of honour. He promised himself to Magnus. And maybe Magnus is open for it. Maybe he even wants him, his body, at least.

Which, urgh. Alec doesn't want to think too closely about it.

“Oh, the furrowed brow,” Magnus pulls him out of his thoughts. Alec can't help but let it creep up further. “Wanna talk about it over dinner?”

Alec sighs inwardly. He can't say he's not hungry or Magnus will get suspicious.

“There's nothing to talk about. I'm sorry for being so difficult.”

“You're not being difficult. You're still processing. I understand.”

Does he? Really? Or is he secretly glad that Alec has been brooding all day?

Alec really needs to cut off this voice in his head and just go with the flow. But he has a constantly analysing brain and too little self-esteem to believe that Magnus might break his one-soul-at-a-time rule for him or even see him as that soul. How does one even compete with someone you took a love away from? Alec had tried with his mother when Jace joined their family. To this day, his brother is still Maryse's favourite.

Alec nods in lieu of a reply. After dinner, he could make a move. Or when they go to bed. Magnus ordered Alec's suitcase to be brought to the main bedroom. Alec put some of his reproductive supplies in the bathroom at the other end of the corridor. That way, they can't mix up the pee glass with their tumblers for mouthwash. Alec knows it's unlikely that he's already ovulating, but it could be a question of days, and as much as he represses any thoughts of the deed, he won't be stupid enough to miss the opportunity. His cycle could be unpredictable. He can't risk it. Unless Magnus rejects his advances. But at least then, Alec would know where they're standing.

Magnus is already in bed when Alec exits their bathroom after his nighttime routine. Leaning against the headboard, Magnus looks up from the book he's been reading. He smiles when he sees Alec in his only pair of cotton summer pyjamas. They haven't even properly made out since Alec's return, so going nude didn't feel right for Alec. And there's the tiny problem of the healing cuts on his thighs, so there's that.

Alec quirks a bashful smile, feeling heat rising into his cheeks. Is Magnus checking him out? He looks so hot shirtless. Is he…? No. A waistband is peeking out from under the sheets. Alec isn't sure if he should be happy about it or disappointed.

Alec fiddles with the strap of his wristwatch, buying himself time before he sits down on his side of the bed. He busies himself with getting under the sheets, tugging them this and that way. Magnus smiles at him in clear amusement.

“Why so nervous?” he asks.

“I'm not nervous.” It's a blatant lie. But Magnus chuckles and marks his book before he puts it on the bedside table. Alec peeks at the title. Transgender History. Alec gulps. Why would he read something like that?

“Tired?” Magnus guesses. Alec hums in reply. They stayed up longer to get off the jetlag quicker. He is exhausted. That's not a lie.

“Me, too,” Magnus says and slides down next to him. He hesitates before he opens his arms.

“You don't have to if you don't wanna,” Alec says despite himself.

“Why wouldn't I want to cuddle with my husband?” Magnus asks, clearly taken aback.

Just great.

“It's so warm, maybe…” Alec tries to save his blunder.

“I can deal with a little sweat. But if you don't like it…”

“I don't mind,” Alec replies, the thought of resting his cheek on Magnus’ bare chest making his heart beat a little faster.

“Would you mind losing your top?” Magnus enquires. Alec exhales quietly. Magnus saw him shirtless when he had to decide between putting the towel around himself to cover up his chest or his fresh cuts. He won't be shocked. It still feels like a big step.

Alec takes it anyway.

He smiles shyly when he lies back again, gauging Magnus’ gaze. The missing chest hair leaves him so utterly naked, the scars way more prominent than usual.

“Your surgeon did a great job,” Magnus states. “I suppose they had a perfect canvas with the way you work out.”

Alec swallows hard. He hasn't touched a single dumbbell in two long months. It shows. His muscles are way less defined. He should probably hit the private gym in the basement to salvage what's possible. Not that he has much hope. He struggled with putting on and keeping muscle mass before going on T.

“He was very experienced. Took me a while to find him. My budget was limited, so…”

“Didn't insurance pay for it?”

Alec can't help but snort. “Idris’ health care system is public and only pays for what the authorities deem necessary. I even had to pay for my own testosterone shots.”

“Where did you get the money from? I don't suppose your parents were that generous.”

“No.” Alec chuckles. “I worked at the Institute. Trained recruits, subbed for my parents, tutored the kids of some of the Shadowhunters stationed there, sold everything valuable I owned. I saved up all that money for my transition.”

Magnus hums in understanding. “That explains your wardrobe,” he teases. Alec bites the inside of his cheek, shame washing over him.

“I don't need much,” he croaks.

“You'll get more when we're back,” Magnus says. Of course. He mustn't embarrass him.

Magnus runs his hand over Alec's chest. Alec closes his eyes, trying to savour the feeling. It's just wrong, the way Magnus’ fingers easily glide over his skin.

“You're so tense,” Magnus says, hand resting, not moving anymore.

“Sorry, I just…” Alec fucking hates how dysphoric he still is. Not that everything was all dandy before, but he felt alright in his skin most of the time. But now, it's like a throwback, and not a good one.

“You want me to stop?”

Alec shakes his head, opening his eyes to look into Magnus’. He needs him to know that that's the last thing he wants. His touches feel good under all the layers of self-loathing and wrongness. Alec just needs to find a way to peel those away and uncover the good. He can do that. He's sure of it.

“Come here,” Magnus orders gently. A quiet sigh falls from Alec's lips when his cheek touches Magnus’ chest as he wraps him into his arms. Maybe it's a sign of weakness that he's always the one being held. But it is what it is.

He presses a kiss to Magnus’ sternum, sending goosebumps over his husband's skin. If it's a reflex or a good sign, Alec doesn't dare dissect. It's just the two of them now. Alec bans their ghosts from the bedroom. When Magnus runs his fingers through his short hair, it's easy to believe that this is not just a marriage of convenience. Nothing about Alec is convenient, after all. Maybe, just maybe, this is real.

Chapter Text

Magnus hums in delight. This is a nice dream. A warm body pressed to his front, the perfect ass to rut against at his disposal. Alec presses back, giving him more friction…

Magnus pulls him closer, quiet moans falling from his lips. He had this dream before, but this time, it feels real. So real.

His eyes blink open, movement subsiding.

Good Lord!

“I'm sorry,” he croaks, voice still rough from sleep. Alec freezes before he pulls away a fraction.

Just great.

Magnus angles his erection away and brushes his hand over Alec's smooth chest.

“How was your night, Alexander?” he asks.

“Good. Slept like a baby,” Alec replies, sounding off. Magnus winces. Did he screw up already, not even a minute into the new day? They were moving so naturally with each other before they parted ways, their kisses, their cuddles. Now, it's like there's this invisible sheet between them, not thick but impenetrable. What did his parents do to Alec that he can't laugh this off? Magnus doesn't mind waiting. If Alec needs time, they have plenty of it.

“Are you hungry?” he asks to change the topic. Magnus knows he should scratch that question from his repertoire. Alec's answer will mostly be the same. Something in the ballpark of ‘not really, but if you are…’ He pegged Alec as more assertive. Maybe he was. Before.

“I thought I'd train fasted and then have breakfast,” Alec replies.

“Oh. That sounds good.”

It really does. Alec has grown softer. Not that Magnus minds. He's still sexy as hell, always will be. Magnus has dated people of all kinds of genders, ethnicities and body shapes. It's always been their soul that had drawn him in. Yes, there was instant attraction sometimes, like with Alec, but Magnus could never look past certain personality traits when it came to intimacy. Very different to when it came to changes of their bodies. If Alec were to never train again and start eating to his hearts content, Magnus would worship his body just the same. Not that he's allowed to yet. At least, he reckons he's not.

But Alec did press back invitingly, and he likely was awake for it. So maybe…

“Still got some time to stay in bed?” Magnus asks.

“You want to?”

Magnus hums. “It's so warm and cosy with you in my arms.”

Alec chuckles, relaxing in his embrace. Magnus tries not to sigh in relief. Disaster averted. It's like walking on eggshells. He has to be patient. Healing needs time.

“Don't wanna get up, if I'm honest,” Alec says, nuzzling against Magnus’ shoulder.

“Then don't.”

“I'm not used to this. Unless…”

“Unless?” Magnus probes when he doesn't continue. Alec grows tense again. Magnus presses a kiss to his shoulder and brushes his fingers over his stomach. It has the hoped for effect—Alec lets out a ragged breath.

“Unless I have a depressive episode.”

Magnus hums in understanding. “Hard to get out of bed at all. I've been there,” he says. There's nothing to be ashamed of, but Alec likely didn't have an understanding family that helped him through it, not even a chosen one like Magnus had.

“Our kids will have the depression gene,” Alec says.

Magnus pulls him closer to his chest. “They'll also have two loving fathers who will be there for them, no matter what. Genes aren't everything, Alexander.”

Alec hums in answer.

Magnus doesn't want to think about children yet. Yes, he wants them, and they'll have to figure out how to get there, eventually. But, again, they've got time. Magnus wants Alec to find his drive again first, to enjoy life to the fullest, to pick up archery and win a few medals, for him to find purpose beyond their marriage. Alec deserves to spread his wings. Magnus wants to see him soar. Yes, some people do that through or while being parents, but Alec has sacrificed so much of his happiness to his family. He deserves a break from being responsible for others.

They fall silent for a while. Alec is probably brooding again. Is it a sign of depression or healing? Magnus isn't sure. But at least he is in his arms this time. Magnus might not be able to protect him from dark thoughts, but he can give him the reassurance that he won't have to face them alone anymore.

“Can I ask you a question?” Alec asks quietly.

“Everything.”

Alec huffs a nervous laugh. “It's just… Do you want me?”

Magnus stalls, his mind bombarding him with too many thoughts at once.

“What do you mean?”

Alec doesn't reply but he presses his butt into Magnus’ crotch.

Oh.

“You mean, right now?”

Alec shrugs, glancing over his shoulder.

“I had a really nice dream involving you that turned out to be real, so… But there's no pressure. I know you haven't been with anyone.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Alec palpably relaxes against him. How much pressure he must have felt? Magnus wants to assure him that sex isn't that important to him when Alec turns around and kisses him, hard. Magnus can't help but chuckle into the kiss.

“Hey,” he stops him. “What's this all about? I mean… I'm not complaining, but...”

“I… I just thought… you know, I thought we could take the next step.”

“The sex step,” Magnus says, smiling knowingly. His heart is beating a little faster at the thought of Alec lost in pleasure. He would be even more breathtaking. But if Magnus gathered anything from his research, it's that intimacy can be intricate for trans people. And it's Alec's first time, so he doesn't know his own dos and don'ts yet.

“Yeah,” Alec all but breathes. Is he nervous? Aroused by the thought? Frigthened? Magnus tries to find the answer in his face but he comes back with nothing. It's just Alec's familiar frown and searching eyes, which could mean anything.

“Alexander. I may be experienced but…”

Alec nods as if in understanding. Magnus doubts that he does. He's pulling back already, and Magnus can’t allow that.

“All I mean to say is that we don't have to go all the way.”

Magnus knows that this sentence is heteronormative nonesense. Sex is sex, penetration or not. But he couldn't find more fitting words, and they seem to work as Alec's lips curl into a cautious smile.

“You… you wanna make out with me?”

“Very much so,” Magnus smirks. “And you?”

Alec nods, smiling bashfully.

“I guess we're in the perfect place for that,” Magnus says, rolling on his back. He wants Alec to lead, to set the pace. Alec hesitates but he clearly gets the hint as he moves on top of him, pressing their chests together before he starts kissing him again, a little less urgent than before but with no less vigour.

Magnus gets lost in his mouth, in his exploring lips and hands, his own moving without a second thought. Alec is so good already, completely attuned to every cue of Magnus’ body. He's a natural lover, one taking pleasure from giving it. It's been a while since Magnus had that, and he gets lost in it a little too much. So much for teaching Alec the ropes.

“You're so damn sexy,” Alec says. How he manages to make him blush, Magnus doesn't know. He's not of the blushing kind. But it's okay. This is his husband. His husband. The thought alone shouldn't be powerful enough to shoot off a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, but it does.

“Just because of you,” Magnus presses out.

“Me? Why me?”

Magnus chuckles at Alec's dumbfounded face. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Sexiness, too.”

Alec clearly ponders that thought, sitting back on Magnus’ thighs. He looks like a Greek god in the morning sun creeping through the blinds. Magnus’ cock gives a more than interested kick.

“So… am I?” Alec asks, looking down at him. Magnus has lost the golden thread of the conversation, too enthralled by the sight above him.

“What?”

“Am I… sexy?”

Magnus’ hands tighten around Alec's hips. The worry in his eyes is unbearable.

“You're the sexiest man I know,” Magnus replies.

Alec huffs a disbelieving laugh.

“I mean it. I'm all into honesty, remember?”

Alec nods, looking way too sombre for the situation they are in.

“Are you alright?” Magnus asks.

“Yeah… yeah. I just… never thought of myself in such terms.”

Magnus hums in understanding. “Well, you are very sexy and very… how do I put it? Hot.”

That makes Alec laugh, his eyes sparkling. Magnus can't help but return it. He likes playful sex, and he has a hunch that this is where they'll be heading towards now as Alec leans in for a kiss that ends in a giggle, both their smiles too bright to make it work. Alec just makes the best of it and lets his lips wander over Magnus’ neck, once more.

Magnus had imagined this so very differently, but he won't complain. Alec seems to grow more and more confident with every sound he pulls from Magnus’ lips. His eyes check for Magnus’ reaction, again and again. He's an attentive lover in the making. How did Magnus get so lucky?

“C–can I see all of you?” Alec asks as he reaches his pyjama bottoms. Magnus doesn't need to be asked twice, Alec's eyes a balm on ancient scars. Magnus has always been the one giving first. But Alec doesn't ask for reciprocation. He seems content, hot eyes roaming Magnus’ body as he lays himself bare in more ways than just clothes.

“Fuck,” Alec breathes.

Magnus chuckles. “Like what you see?” he asks. It sounds teasing but his heart is beating in his mouth. Alec just nods, speechless, and that does Magnus in. Alec touches his hip, fingers tracing the tattoo usually hidden under his clothes.

“What does it mean?” Alec asks.

Magnus swallows. He had gotten it after his breakup from Camille. It's so stupid, but well.

“It's an Indonesian proverb my mother used to say.”

Alec doesn't push for a translation, just runs his fingers reverently over the beautiful lettering and traditional motives surrounding it.

“It looks beautiful,” he says. “I shouldn't have let my Indonesian lessons slide.”

Magnus exhales raggedly. He forgot all about that. “Its closest English equivalent would be ‘Still waters run deep’, I suppose,” he offers.

Alec quirks a smile. “Air,” he says, tracing the Indonesian word with his finger. “Are you a still water, Magnus?”

“Sometimes,” Magnus says, feeling utterly vulnerable all of a sudden. “The original is more about not trusting your first impression and that in challenging or unclear situations there can be hidden depths of clarity and understanding.”

“I see,” Alec says, his fingers leaving the tattoo.

“What do you see?” Magnus croaks, feeling the mood shifting. Alec doesn't answer but wraps his fingers around Magnus’ cock, tugging experimentally.

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes. He should stop him and demand an answer, but his brain short-circuits as Alec's grip tightens around him. It doesn't take long until Alec has him all figured out, knowing every single thing Magnus likes in a good hand-job, including kissing his brains out while doing it. What Alec lacks in technique, he makes up with attention and curiosity. He'll be the death of him, Magnus just knows it.

“I'm close,” he manages with his lust-meddled brain. It only spurs Alec on. Magnus laughs as he comes, his last concious thought that this is all upside down. But maybe that's good. Alec is a doer. If this is taking off the pressure, then so be it. Magnus is the last person to complain about a mind-blowing orgasm.

Chapter Text

Envy is a curious thing, Alec thinks. He adores Magnus’ body, his hard edges and soft curves, the build, the manner his chest heaves in pleasure, the feeling of his hard cock in his hand, the way his body tenses up right before his release… The release that Alec is cleaning off Magnus’ stomach with a small damp towel from the bathroom. The kind of release he will never experience himself.

He had not once considered what it would mean for his self-perception to be with a cis man. Now, it's coming to bite him in the ass. He feels even more shitty about himself. Maybe it's simply because his own body already felt all kinds of wrong before taking that step. The contrast to what it should be is even more striking now. Magnus is perfect, and he is so not.

Alec gets up to get rid of the towel and away from the triggering sight when Magnus’ hand wraps around his knee.

“Leave it on the table. I wanna make you feel good, too,” Magnus coos, hand slowly brushing upwards. Alec stares at the glass table next to the bed, his watch still lying where he put it down last night.

“It's not hygienic,” he argues, trying to sound calm and surprisingly managing. Magnus chuckles and lets go of him. Alec quirks a smile and returns to the bathroom, taking his time to wash out the towel before he wrings it out and hangs it over the edge of the bathtub to dry. He has to figure out how laundry works in this house. He reckons Magnus isn't someone who washes his own towels.

Alec cleans his hands after, studying himself in the mirror as he dries them off. How quickly the high of Magnus’ orgasm subsided. Alec wants to chase the thrill of it for the rest of his life. It was so good. How is he ever supposed to get enough of that? Of Magnus melting under his ministrations, moaning his name, kissing him as if he were the air he needed to breathe. Alec didn't know it could be like that. He understands his siblings way better now, why they sought out partners, sometimes even just for a few hours.

But there's the sword of Damocles hanging over him, of course—the reciprocation. Alec wants it, and at the same time, the thought makes him nauseated. He doesn't make any sense. Or maybe, he does.

He rips a piece of toilet paper off and cleans up the proof of how much he enjoyed exploring Magnus’ body from between his legs. He knows it does make sense to get wet. If Magnus were to fuck him he'd be glad to be. Well, he'll have to in a matter of days. Alec has no idea how he is supposed to fit in that dick after struggling with a mid sized tampon just over a week ago. But what did the sex advisor say? The vagina adjusts to a penis’ size. Alec doubts that very much. But what must be, must be. If he's lucky, he only has to do it once. A man can dream.

But what if Magnus likes it too much, likes it more than what they just shared?

Alec decides to cross that bridge when they get there. Magnus wanted him, wanted this, at least. He called him hot!

“You're the sexiest man I know.”

Alec didn't miss the wording. There's still room for at least one of their ghosts, it seems. He exhales loudly, propping himself up on the washbasin. He knows he has to return, has to let Magnus touch him. Maybe, it'll be great even. Maybe he just hates it when he touches himself. Magnus is a seasoned lover. He might manage to get him off. But what if he can't? The disappointment in his eyes would kill the sprout of confidence Alec just grew.

It is already withering anyway.

Air tenang menghanyutkan, air keruh jernih bawahnya.

Alec yearns for the truth, but he's scared of what the clear water underneath the muddy one he's swimming in might hold. Magnus talked about hidden depths of clarity and understanding. Alec had hoped to find answers in Magnus’ body, and he received. Still, he finds himself back at square one, unsure and worried. Why can't he just enjoy himself as long as this version of Magnus is around? His husband seemed to be into him. He hasn't seen his body in total, of course. Alec very much doubts that he checked him out while chasing after him at the beach.

Tears press into Alec's eyes. This is supposed to be easy. His heart belongs to Magnus, his body, too. His husband's touches calm and arouse him just the same. Magnus is sweet, and kind, and affectionate. He must want him, not only for political reasons. Why would he keep up a farce like that far away from anyone watching them? But why can't Magnus see then that all his flowery words can't undo the harm his people's traditions inflict on Alec? Maybe it's just a cis people thing. Most of them enjoy sex. Magnus clearly does and had plenty of it in the past. And pregnancy is usually something joyful when it happens on purpose.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks, appearing still butt naked in the doorway. Alec locks up his body so as not to jump. His heart is still running a hundred miles an hour. He didn't hear him coming. Years of alertness training were a waste of time. But most of what he did was. Nothing he's good at will ever come in useful. Save for his language skills. That's not a lot, is it?

“Yeah, just… processing,” Alec says, trying his best not to look at Magnus’ crotch. He fails, his pyjama pants feeling terribly empty at once.

“Was what we shared too much?” Magnus asks gently.

“No! No, it was great.”

Magnus nods, his eyes still cautious.

“I'm fine, Magnus. You're beautiful when you let go.”

“And you're an ardent lover. I can't believe you never did it before.”

Alec frowns. Does Magnus think he's lying about this?

“I always knew I couldn't have what I wanted… until you came along.”

Magnus’ face turns mellow, an understanding smile growing on his lips. “You can have it all now.”

It sounds like a promise. Alec knows it won't hold true, but he doesn't doubt that Magnus means it. Huh.

“Maybe after breakfast?” Magnus chuckles as Alec's stomach growls. Alec hopes he doesn't see the relief relaxing his body immediately.

“Do you mind if I hit the gym for a short session?” he asks. He's in no state to sit down with Magnus and pretend that everything is fine for long minutes. Not yet. He needs to get his feelings sorted, and training usually provides a calm and focussed mind.

Magnus hesitates for a long moment before he smiles at him. “Sure. I think I'll take a dip in the ocean. Maybe you wanna join me after?”

“I don't have swim trunks.”

“That's the perks of being on a private island. Skinny dipping is no problem.”

“I'm… I don't wanna scare off the servants.”

Magnus laughs. “Believe me, they saw some pretty wild things in their time, and everybody worth their salt is still in my service.”

That doesn't really make it better.

“You've lived a very joyful life, huh?” Alec can't help asking.

“I used to cover up the parts of my life that were too terrifying to think about too closely. I think we have that in common. Just that you worked hard to be the best in whatever you put your mind to, and I partied.”

Covering up what pained them. Alec supposes Magnus is right. Maybe that's why his siblings enjoyed their raves and hookups. He's sure sex, drugs, and alcohol are things to get lost in when you're trying to forget.

“You didn't only party, though, did you? You served in the military, studied abroad.”

“I did. But after George—” Magnus cuts himself off.

“Your first boyfriend,” Alec says. Magnus doesn't need to hide his past from him. Especially not the people he loved and lost.

Magnus gapes at him. “How do you know about him?”

“I googled you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have.”

Magnus chuckles softly. “I googled you, too. Right after we met.”

“Why?”

“Because… I wanted to know more about the man who caught my eye.”

“You checked me out after meeting my mother?”

Magnus smirks. “Terrible parents have never stopped me. I don't judge people by their families. We don't choose those who decide to bring us into this world.”

“You're not too fond of your father, either,” Alec states.

Magnus huffs a mirthless laugh. “I think there are parts of me that yearn for his darkness. But my mother is the light that keeps me on the right side. Or so I hope.”

“She must have been a wonderful person.”

“She was. She's also my biggest wound.”

Alec's heart cracks at the sight of Magnus putting on a smile after he just let that bitter truth slip.

“We should get going,” Magnus says, “or our breakfast is going to turn into lunch.”

Alec nods, feeling like he missed an opportunity to take care of his husband. His husband who opens the French windows to the patio and walks straight into the ocean. Alec wishes he had his confidence. He doubts that he'll ever be like that, so confident in the nude, but if he wants to get close to it, he'll have to hit the gym.

He first stops in the second bathroom, relieved when the ovulation test only shows one line. A few more days of clemency. He has to work up to it. And he'll have plenty of opportunity. Magnus surely hasn't forgotten his earlier plans.

Alec puts heavy metal music on his headphones and pumps iron, having to lower the weights several times. He's lost so much strength. That kaiserschmarrn needs to be served with a side of steak. At least, Magnus will be pleased with Alec's eating for once. He just hopes he's not going to make himself sick with all the food he'll need after pushing his body to the max.

Chapter Text

“Is it okay if I text my siblings?” Alec asks over breakfast.

Magnus stops his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “Of course. You don't need to ask for permission.”

Alec nods soberly. “It's just because your father said…”

Magnus scoffs. “My father says many things. Only very few of them need to be your concern, Alexander.”

“He is my king.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “He is. But you're not… Your siblings are part of our private life. My father loves to meddle, but we won't let him more than strictly necessary, okay?”

Alec huffs a laugh.

“I mean it,” Magnus says with emphasis.

“So, you'll set tradition to nought, risking his wrath?” Alec asks, his eyes piercing. Magnus falters a little. He wishes he could say yes, but Alec already seems to know the answer to that question.

“Tradition is a different matter. You said it yourself: My family is steeped in it. There are things I and you, as my husband, have to comply with. But apart from that, you're just a citizen of his, no more, no less. I won't allow him to poison you the way he poisoned the rest of his family.”

“Like what?”

Magnus breathes a sigh. Can't they have just one moment of peace and quiet? But there's no use in hiding. Alec probably knows it already anyway.

“He drove my mother to suicide,” Magnus says, trying to quiet the storm that memory always unleashes in him. “He taught me to be cruel and deceitful to others. But that's not who I am.”

“Cruelty often lies in the details,” Alec muses. Magnus nods. His husband speaks from a whole lot of experience.

“You're right. I worked hard on myself, but I'm sure there are still blind spots I have.”

“Yeah.”

Magnus fiddles with his napkin as he watches Alec shovelling food into himself. It should delight him, but Alec looks exhausted, withdrawn. That he even thought he had to ask for his permission to talk to his siblings… It stings. It's understandable. It's devastating in ways Magnus can't put into words.

“What would you like to do while we're here?” Magnus decides to switch to something lighter. He needs lightness, the sweetness of new love. Maybe he is delusional to hope for it.

Alec shrugs. “The gym is impressive.”

Magnus huffs in surprise. Alec is clearly very invested in his body, but that's not exactly how Magnus expected to spend his honeymoon.

“We could watch a movie in the home cinema or put one of the other rooms to good use,” he suggests playfully. He would propose to have a sauna, but seeing Alec all hot and sweating, possibly fully naked would test his restraint to the max, he fears.

“A game of pool would be great,” Alec replies, the corners of his lips actually curling up.

“You like pool?”

“It's a lot like archery. It's all about the aim.”

Magnus chuckles. Well, he had aimed for something more intimate, but pool it is. There's not much they can do on the island. He didn't fully think this through when he chose this location. He should have known that after their failed dream wedding a cliché honeymoon would be unlikely. But shielding Alec from the cruel world out there was the only thing on his mind.

They've already had sex, however. Maybe he can play inexperienced and let Alec “teach” him how to pocket the balls. They could get close and maybe, he could teach Alec something in return, suck him off leaning against the pool table or something like that.

Shit! Is that even the right term? Magnus sometimes forgets that Alec is trans and that he has never had a mouth near his crotch before. Magnus suppresses a sigh. That fantasy is probably a bad idea. If only Alec were…

No! Magnus stops himself right there. Alec is perfect, just the way he is. It's just… everything would be easier if he were cis. Or experienced. Or both. But he is neither. What he is is his husband, though, and he deserves to discover this part of himself like anyone else does—with joy, sincerity, and a lover who is attentive and affectionate.

“Is there something else you wanna do? We could cross over to another island, go to a market or…”

Magnus is out of his depth. He’s manoeuvred himself into a situation where he cannot shine. And he wants to, wants to make this honeymoon unforgettable. Selfishly, he wants the ease that they had before. Or is he already rose tinting the past? Their beginnings were steeped in pain, too, weren't they? But they were sweet, kept him up at night just thinking about Alec's lips on his own, Alec's hands grabbing his hips, his body wrapping around him so perfectly. It still does.

“What have you done in the past when you were here?” Alec asks. It's the worst question to ask. He was here with Camille, and she is the last person Magnus wants to think about right now.

“I hired some Ayurveda practitioners. They work in a holiday resort nearby-ish. They are of the authentic kind. I've been to India before.”

“You got a massage, here, in the middle of nowhere?” Alec chuckles.

“I love massages, and there's something about those oils. It's so indulgent. When was the last time you had a good massage?”

“At the Olympic village.”

Magnus gapes at him. “That must be remedied immediately,” he decides.

“You don't have to ship those poor masseurs over, Magnus.”

“No, you're right. We need to work up to that.” He smirks.

Alec's eyes grow wide. “What do you mean?

“I travel nowhere without my trusted almond oil. You, mister, are going to get the royal treatment.”

“That sounds ominous,” Alec says, but his eyes are bright with curiosity.

“I think we should use the second bedroom. Just in case things get messy,” Magnus says. The double entendre hits the bull's eye. Archer boy blushes, smile faltering for a second. He's so easily flustered. Magnus loves it, loves Alec's innocence. It's a gift, he realises. They can build this relationship from scratch. There are no fully formed expectations, no blueprint that might not be fitting for them. Alec is new, unpredictable, and by just being himself, he gives Magnus the chance to be new, too.

This feels so good. Magnus’ hands gliding over his back, the sweet scent of oil tickling his nose. His mind has calmed down a little. It's still buzzing, quietly analysing what's happening. But his body is relaxed and that's half the battle.

Magnus outdid himself. The curtains are drawn to shut out the afternoon sun. Candles are lit, soft music is playing in the background. Everything is soft and warm. And still. Alec has never been good at relaxing. He can focus, centre himself, be aware of his breathing. But letting go?

Magnus doesn't seem to struggle with that. Alec didn't lie. It was beautiful to watch. Could he be the same with Magnus’ help? Could he let curiosity overtake and drown out the worried voices in his head?

He can't even make his brain shut up while he's touched in ways no one has ever touched him before. Magnus’ hands are warm, tender and firm in all the right places. Gentle arousal waves between them. Magnus doesn't push. He's not hiding it either. Alec on the other hand…

“Still so tense,” Magnus murmurs. Alec wants to apologise but refrains. How often did he read in his novels of people melting under the touch of their lover? And he does, just not as expected. He's like a thick candle, his edges untouched as he dissolves inside with need and longing. He wants this, wants more. He simply doesn't know how to ask. Because he doesn't know what he would even ask for. He knows what he doesn't want, but that's not an option. Not forever, at least.

Working up to it.

He doesn't have long, so…

He pushes back into Magnus, rubbing, frotting. It's nice, the quiet moan he pulls from Magnus’ lips. It makes Alec's crotch itch.

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes. Did he plan for this? For Alec to get horny? Probably.

“You can,” Alec croaks.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Take me.” There he said it. Magnus will know what to do. It's only physical mechanics, isn't it? Thousands of people do it every day, millions. Why does Alec think he's special somehow?

Magnus slides off and lies down next to him. Alec presses his face into the mattress to muffle the groan he can't keep in. Magnus could have just pushed his sweats down and done it. Why didn't he? Why the fuck didn't he? Is he so tedious? He knows he looks terrible but Magnus doesn't even have to look at his face.

“There's nothing I would rather do, Alexander,” Magnus’ gentle voice penetrates the fog around Alec's brain. “But are you sure? There's no rush.”

Oh.

“I… I think if we don't do it, it will only grow into an insurmountable hill.”

“That's not a good reason to have sex,” Magnus says, still oh-so-gently, his hand warmly settling on the small of his back. The words twist something in Alec's heart. He wants to scream that Magnus is the reason why. He put that countdown on him when he accepted Alec at the ritual. He could have said no, could have postponed the bonding until Alec fully knew what he was agreeing to. But it's too late for that now. In a year, he might be a father or he might be banned from court, separated from the only man he’s ever dared to fall for. Even if Magnus wants him baby or not, he said it himself: They are both bound to tradition as prince royal and prince consort.

“You said you wanted it,” Alec presses out.

“Because I want everything with you, Alexander. When you're ready.”

Alec nods. What else can he do? He's said too much. At this point, he just wants to get this over with. He has to prove to Magnus that he's ready. He just has to put his mind to it. If Magnus wants him to earn this, so be it. It's probably a test, a mission. And Alec has understood the assignment.

Chapter Text

[Alec] How can I make Magnus believe I'm ready for the next step?

[Izzy] Just tell him.

Alec sighs. As if he hadn't tried.

[Alec] That didn't work.

[Izzy] Maybe you're giving off other vibes than you want to. Are you too passive maybe?

Alec rolls his eyes. It was a mistake to ask his little sister. But he doesn't know what else to do.

[Alec] How did you get your first boyfriend to go all the way?

[Izzy] We were 16 and horny. Doesn't take much. Getting drunk surely helped. 😆

Well, there's an idea.

[Izzy] No, but serious. Is there anything holding you back? Maybe Magnus senses it. He's very sensitive. Are you too much in your head?

[Alec] Probably.

[Izzy] Don't overthink it. You want it, so get some. You deserve it.

Alec wishes it were that easy.

[Alec] Any advice on how to tell him? You know him better than I do.

And isn't that still a hard truth to swallow?

[Izzy] Okay, that's probably TMI, but you asked. Men love it when I whisper in their ear how wet I am for them. Gets them going every time, if you know what I mean.

Alec does. He's listened to one too many sex stories of his siblings to not know. But maybe that's good in hindsight. He just needs to channel Isabelle's confidence or Jace's audacity. Magnus probably doesn't need much to be convinced. He said he wanted him, and he was hard throughout half of the massage. Which is good. Alec can work with that.

And still.

He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes and groans in frustration. This is all wrong. He should truly want this. He married for love, right? Pretending for a wife would have been one thing, but Magnus? He deserves better. He also isn't giving him a choice. If it were only about getting closer, about sharing intimacy, they would find their way through the jungle of Alec's dysphoria. He knows they would, but this is about so much more.

Isabelle is right. He's overthinking this. It simply has to be done. And then, it's going to get easier. All difficult things get easier over time. Did Alec enjoy his first sparring with Jace? No. His brother kicked his arse, left him with a bloody nose and bruised ribs. But now – well, three months ago – Alec would take him on with ease. A challenge that would be fun, no matter who would win. With sex, there could be two “winners” even. Alec just needs to get his act together and get through the growing pains.

He thanks Isabelle and puts the phone on the bedside table. Something's gotta give.

Alec heard somewhere that relationships take effort. Magnus tried to offer things, but Alec declined or conjured up excuses. That has to change. His cuts are healing well. They weren't that deep. He can't sport Magnus’ speedo but…

He goes through his clothes and pulls out knee length shorts. He changes into them quickly and walks out on the patio. Magnus is standing a few metres away, looking out over the water.

“Wanna take a dive?” Alec asks. Magnus turns towards him, gaping for a long moment. Alec doesn't dare believe it's because he's still shirtless. Or does Magnus prefer his men shaven?

“I thought you didn't have swim trunks,” he asks after blinking his gaze free. Maybe he did enjoy the view, after all. Alec's stomach flips at the thought. He's not sure if he'll ever get used to that.

“Technically,” he replies, “they aren't for swimming, but… it's a private beach, right?”

Magnus smiles at him and nods. For that smile alone, Alec would do anything.

That's not what Magnus was expecting when he left Alec to himself. They both needed a break. Magnus is still processing what happened. Where did it all go wrong?

He understands Alec's urge to experience everything and all at once. But they have time to slowly explore each other. Isn't that the best thing about being with someone new?

“Take me.”

The words still play in Magnus’ mind. Maybe he should have done what Alec asked for. But it sounded so… It simply felt wrong, as if sex was something for Magnus to enjoy and Alec to just incidentally be there for. But maybe that was projection, pure and simple. Maybe Alec loves giving just as much as Magnus does, and Alec simply can't imagine yet what it's like to be the centre of attention in such an intimate way.

He should have accepted the invitation and taken Alec apart, bit by bit. But well. What's done is done.

“Wanna go for a walk first?” Magnus asks. “I had another plate of kaiserschmarrn,” he says, rubbing his stomach.

Alec chuckles. “That stuff is so good.”

“It really is,” Magnus says, smiling. He offers Alec his hand, which he accepts without hesitation. Magnus exhales in relief. He wasn't sure if he hurt Alec by trying to do the right thing.

But Alec came to him, and he didn't even put on a shirt. Magnus takes it as a good sign. Alec's scars don't faze him. They fit Alec. Magnus can't even imagine what he would look like without them.

They take a mostly silent walk along the beach, enjoying the sound of the waves hitting the shore and the feeling of the wind in their hair. It's nice, quiet. Magnus wants to bottle up this moment. It's probably the most peaceful one they've shared so far. It's likely their silence that makes it easy to pretend that there is no past haunting them, no future waiting. But silence can suffocate if you allow it to grow, so…

“About earlier…” Magnus says when the house is out of sight, not a living soul nearby that could hear them.

“I can't believe you ate the last of the kaiserschmarrn,” Alec cuts him short.

Magnus blinks at him in confusion. “I didn't,” he protests. “There's still one portion left.”

“Is there?” Alec asks, a grin growing on his face.

“Yeah. Why?” Magnus can't help but smile through a frown.

“Whoever reaches that house first will get it,” Alec calls and sprints across the beach. Magnus starts running without a second thought, the house damn far away and Alec a great runner. He clearly slows down the closer to their goal they get. He still makes it first, leaning against a palm tree half wheezing, half giggling.

“Haven't… done… that… in… years,” he presses out, holding his sides. Magnus laughs out loud, ignoring the stitch in his own. He leans his forehead against Alec's shoulder. Alec wraps his arms around him, kissing his temple as he pulls him close. They hold each other as they catch their breaths.

“You're not half bad,” Alec teases.

“For a non-athlete, you mean?”

“I haven't been an athlete for a long while,” Alec says, his voice even. Magnus can't allow the mood to tip over, so on a whim, he sweeps Alec off his feet.

“What are you doing?” Alec laughs. “Put me down.”

“I didn't get to carry you over the threshold,” Magnus smirks, walking straight into the sea with Alec in his arms.

“So you're gonna drown me?” Alec asks.

“I'm gonna drown you in love,” Magnus replies, his words more serious than the tone of his voice. Alec looks at him, eyes so full with emotions it makes Magnus’ stomach flip.

“Promise?” Alec asks.

Magnus lets go of his legs, both of them immersed in water by now. He cradles Alec's face in his hands, drowning in Alec's eyes.

“Promise. For the rest of our lives,” he says. Alec kisses him, hard. Magnus gets lost in it, in him. He lets Alec lift him up, wraps his legs around him. He barely realises that Alec carries him out of the water onto the beach until Alec lays him down on the sun-kissed sand. It will be a pain in the ass to get rid of it later, but Magnus doesn't care. Alec is the only thing filling his senses as they kiss the way they should have at the shore of Lake Lynn—indulgent, with no care in the world.

Alec is a competitive guy. He's been hustling over the pool table as if his life were depending on it. It's nice to see him like this, however. The easy smiles, his triumphant grins, his pink cheeks… Okay, the latter probably stem from the martinis Magnus conjured up. At Alec's request. He doubts that Alec truly likes them, but he's taking a sip, now and then, wincing less and less every time.

“I haven't had so much fun in ages,” Alec says, his fingers brushing over the edge of the pool table. Magnus smiles through his aching heart. Yes, it's been nice, chasing Alec at the beach – gosh, he has to work on his endurance – and sweeping Alec off his feet and running with him into the ocean. Alec's laughter of mild terror and glee, his salty kisses after… Magnus can still feel grains of sand everywhere. It was worth it, though.

The massage session led nowhere near where Magnus had hoped it would. It was his fault. Of course, Alec felt rejected. He still argued, tried to convince him, but this is not how Magnus had imagined their first time to start. Both of them needed to cool down first. And it was the right decision. And here they are, a four-course meal later, Alec nearly through his second martini and Magnus through his third. He feels the gentle buzz of it, the playfulness that always comes with booze, even in difficult moments. Maybe it'll help them navigate bedtime. This could still get awkward.

Alec finishes the game with a triumphant rise of his arms. He looks so happy. Magnus could do with more of that.

“Congratulations, Alexander. You can be proud of yourself.”

Alec looks at him bashfully, running his hand up and down his cue stick. “I'd rather have you being proud of me,” he says quietly, cheeks burning an even deeper red.

“Well, I am,” Magnus says. “Not everyone can beat me at pool.”

“But no one can beat you at the pool,” Alec says, giggling.

Magnus laughs in surprise. Is his husband flirting with him? Magnus could get used to tipsy Alec.

“Oh, my, Alexander, you're making me blush,” he coos.

“It's only fair. You make me blush all the time.”

Magnus shrugs innocently. “Can't help it. You're just too pretty with a flush on your cheeks.”

“‘M not pretty,” Alec mumbles. “But you are. And sexy.”

Magnus smiles despite the bitter sweetness of the compliment. He doesn't want to dim the determination shining in Alec's eyes.

“Winner gets to choose?” he asks.

Magnus frowns. “What do you mean?”

“The winner gets to choose what happens next. Lightwood rule, and you're a Lightwood now.”

“That I am,” Magnus smirks. “So, what do you wanna do, Alexander Lightwood-Bane?”

Alec looks at him for a long moment, as if to gather courage.

“You,” Alec replies. Magnus shakes his head in amusement and pride. His husband is full of surprises.

“Anything in particular?” he asks. Alec's breath is hot against his skin when he whispers his wish into Magnus’ ear.

“Alexander,” he tries to protest but he's too weak. He has nothing potent against Alec's puppy eyes. And didn't he think earlier that accepting Alec's advances would have been the better way to handle the situation? Yeah, this is most definitely a logical decision and not a case of the tail wagging the dog. Nope.

“O–okay,” Magnus breathes. “Wanna move this somew—?”

Magnus chokes on the syllable as he watches Alec going to his knees gracefully. He leans back against the wall when Alec touches his belt buckle. He should trust Alec with what he wants. They can move to the room next door after.

Chapter Text

Alec presses his cheek against the rough fabric of Magnus' jeans. He glances up, the bitter taste on his tongue strangely satisfying. This surely wasn't the best blow job that Magnus ever had, but it seems to have been a good start as blissed out as he looks, dopily smiling down at him. Alec soaks up the image and files it away in his heart. He feels accomplished. He never wants to forget this feeling. Is that stupid? Alec can't push himself to care. Not with Magnus tugging on him, coaxing him back to his feet and into a kiss. Magnus moans when he tastes himself in Alec's mouth, the sound shooting directly to Alec's crotch.

He thinks of Izzy's advice. He could say it now. It would be true. It would be futile, however. Magnus just came down his throat. He surely can't go another round. Alec smiles to himself. He made his man come twice today.

Magnus pulls back, chuckling. “You never cease to surprise me, Alexander,” he says, still a little out of breath. Pride fills Alec's chest. He quirks a bashful smile.

“Can't let you get bored with me already.”

Magnus sighs. “I don't think boredom is in my cards with you.”

Alec can't read the sound of Magnus’ voice. Was that a compliment or a complaint? Magnus doesn't elaborate, and Alec doesn't dare ask. Magnus is probably still coming down from his high, so Alec just kisses him again. Everything is easier when their lips meet.

Magnus’ fingers curl around his hips, pulling him closer. This is all Alec ever wanted, something he didn't dare to hope for. But he has it now. He can kiss this incredible man, can call him husband, can make him come and hold him. Tonight, he will, he decides.

“We should move this to the bedroom,” Magnus says against his lips.

“Yeah,” Alec replies, feeling the martinis hitting him, now that the adrenaline is dropping. “Let's go to sleep.”

Magnus frowns at him but his expression smoothes out quickly. Alec can't make sense of it. He doesn't have to. Magnus takes his hand and guides him back to their bedroom, only letting go when Alec grabs his pyjamas from the foot of the bed. Alec starts undressing himself. Turned away from Magnus, he gets into his pyjama bottoms. When he moves towards the bed, he finds Magnus considering him.

“You don't feel comfortable naked around me, do you?” Magnus asks. Alec's cheeks heat up with shame. He should. This is Magnus, after all. But Alec fears with the way he was waxed, all Magnus will be able to think of when he sees him is ‘girl’. He couldn't even blame him. Alec cried the first time he used the bathroom after the waxing. He doesn't cry easily, doesn't allow himself to. It will take weeks for the hair to grow back, to cover what he loathes the most about his body. Ever since top surgery, at least. Would it be easier if his parts were hidden more?

Alec isn't sure. All he knows is that this could make or break them. Magnus can pretend to be accepting and supportive, to see him as a man and ignore his transness most of the time. But this? His bottom anatomy is hard to discount.

“I… I don't feel particularly good in my body right now,” Alec replies. It's the understatement of the century.

“Can I help you feel better?” Magnus asks, eyes warm with sympathy. Alec shrugs. Saying ‘no’ would just hurt his husband's feelings.

“Maybe under the blankets?” Magnus suggests. Alec frowns in confusion. Cuddling with Magnus always makes him feel better, but… Oh.

“If you want to,” Alec croaks.

Magnus tilts his head. “The question is, do you want to?”

Does he? Not really. But he has to get used to it anyway. The buzz of the martinis will help for sure.

Alec hums, incapable to form words that invite Magnus in.

They meet under the sheets, Magnus’ lips warm against his, hands gliding over his skin. This part is always nice. Really nice. It's easy to let go, to forget that it's the prelude to something else.

Magnus’ hand finds his butt cheek, squeezing as he hums lowly into Alec's mouth. It sounds like approval. Alec's heart is filling up with warmth. He nearly forgets what this is about. Until the hand glides under the pants, running over way too smooth skin. To Alec's luck, Magnus just switched to kissing his neck. Alec feels torn between enjoyment and dread. How can both even exist at the same time? Magnus is so gentle, so delicate as he explores his rear. But he doesn't stop there.

“That alright?” he asks, hand resting on the lower part of Alec's abdomen. The itch between Alec's legs is back, and for a moment, he thinks this isn't too bad. His body wants this. He's wet. And Magnus won't see anything. So where's the harm?

“Yeah,” Alec breathes.

“Can I touch you?” Magnus asks for permission, searching his face. Alec chuckles and nods, not trusting his voice. Magnus returns a warm smile.

Alec's eyes ram closed when Magnus’ fingers touch his most intimate part, a bolt shooting through his body.

“So sensitive,” Magnus coos, tutting when Alec apologises. “That's a good thing,” he murmurs.

Alec doubts that, but what does he know?

Magnus’ fingers dip lower, gathering some of his slick before they return. The glide is easier but Alec's reaction is the same. His whole body spasms, electric shocks shooting through him. He moans in confusion and distress. It's too much, but not in a good way. It just feels wrong, and Magnus keeps on rubbing the tip, moving the hood over the glans. Alec doesn't think he's ever been so aware of how wrong his plumbing is as at this very moment.

“Just like that,” Magnus coos in encouragement when Alec's eyes screw shut, breath punched out of him. Alec feels like crying. Magnus thinks he's enjoying this. Maybe his body is betraying him once more. Or it does him a favour. He seems to look as if this is great. It probably would be for everyone else. Magnus is a skilled lover. But shouldn't he realise…?

The thought is interrupted by a violent tremble of Alec's body. He keens. This is too much. Too much. Too much! Until it's completely gone. A void swallows Alec whole, leaving him reeling and heaving for air.

His body shudders out of control. Disgust fills him as it zooms back into focus, the tingling in his crotch and the wetness between his legs proof of what just happened. He should feel blissed out. He should feel good. But all he feels is numb. No afterglow. No yearning for repetition. Just emptiness and disappointment, like a medal ripped away from his hands right as he dared to touch it.

Tears prick his eyes, some getting loose when he opens them. He sees the joy on Magnus’ face, mirroring the smile he felt on his own earlier. Magnus thinks he made him come. There is every outward indication that he did.

What the fuck is wrong with him?!

“Hey,” Magnus says. “Back from the dead?” he teases.

La petite mort.

Alec shakes his head despite himself. He does feel dead inside. How can one be touched by a magnificent man such as Magnus and feel like this? He must be broken beyond repair.

Magnus chuckles, drawing the wrong conclusion. Alec doesn't correct him. Magnus’ lips return to his own, kissing him back to life, at least somewhat.

Later, in the bathroom, when he still feels numb as he cleans up the mess he made, Alec accepts defeat. The tiny hope that he could have this is crushed to death. Magnus’ magical touch wasn't powerful enough to fix his body and stupid brain. It is still a traitor, now more than ever.

The razor blades call his name, getting louder with every passing second. But he has only days, maybe hours left until his body ovulates, and he doubts very much that Magnus will be persuaded to do it in the dark under a pile of blankets.

Alec stares at his reflection in the mirror, the scruff of several days greeting him. It's a small source of comfort. This, not even his body can take away from him. His beard will always keep growing, even when he is going to be with child and after months or even years without testosterone. Just like his deep voice, this, he can have and will always keep. The rest? Well. The rest doesn't deserve his attention anymore. Alec is done. He trained hard for a masculine physique, had top surgery and took hormones. All of that eliminated so much of his dysphoria. But his genitals? They will always remind him that he is not like other men.

“That's a good thing.”

No, Magnus is wrong. Alec appreciates the sentiment, but he has no clue what it's like to walk in his shoes. And he never will. He doesn't need to put up with this shit, and Alec won't make it his problem. Magnus lies happily in their bed waiting for him to return. For him, not Camille or anyone else. That's what he should hold on to. Sex is just a small part of life. He can enjoy it as an active participant. He can make Magnus happy, and at the end of the day, that's all that matters.

Chapter Text

Magnus wakes up to an empty bed. This seems to have become a habit of theirs. Alec has been restless in the morning. It's been three days since their first time. A few more firsts have followed, and still, Magnus feels like they are stuck. Alec is invested in learning everything there is to know about bodily pleasure. Maybe a little too invested. Not that Magnus is complaining. Alec is a quick learner and more interested in giving him pleasure than in receiving it. Maybe that's why Magnus feels queasy. He's not used to this.

He's also not used to not cuddling in the morning when he is with a lover. But Alec has used the gym religiously, kissing him good morning at the breakfast table after Magnus woke up at a more honeymoon appropriate time. Magnus gathered that Alec was prohibited from training in preparation for their wedding. If it makes him feel better about his body, that can just be good, so he hasn't mentioned the fact that he misses waking up next to him. Can one even miss something that hasn't even happened that often yet? Well, Magnus can. He knows when they're back in Edom, their mornings will be early and their nights shorter. Reality will catch up on them likely sooner than later. Any progress they can make now won't have to be wrestled from their tiny budget of private time. But Alec has been under enough pressure in the past. Magnus doesn't want to put more on him now.

Their days are surprisingly stress free and predictable. There's only so much one can do here. After breakfast, they go on a slow jog around the island. Magnus hopes Alec knows that this is a huge token of love on Magnus’ part. Then, they take a nap on the double sun loungers on the veranda which usually leads to them making out and Alec getting him off in their bedroom. They take a swim in the ocean after lunch, play pool or read next to each other in the afternoon. At night, it's Magnus’ turn to meet Alec's sexual needs. He has no idea why they can't have both in one go, but maybe it's just too overwhelming for Alec, or the dimmed lights help him relax. Magnus still hasn't seen him naked despite sharing pretty much everything but penetrative sex. God, Alec tastes and feels so good. Magnus could die a happy man between his legs. Alec hates his own taste though. Magnus couldn't help but laugh at his disgusted face when he kissed him on the mouth after making him come. Lesson learnt!

Magnus ignores his morning wood and gets up. Alec will probably have something new on his mind to try out later. He's insatiable, worships his body with single-minded focus. It was a good decision to let him explore everything he felt like trying. It can only be a matter of time until he feels confident and comfortable enough to fully show himself. Magnus can't wait for it. No, he can. He's just really looking forward to it. He's a visual guy, loves to see the reaction on a lover's face. That's hard to come by when you're busy under a blanket, but it's a small sacrifice. Alec's body gives him feedback aplenty.

Magnus is about to pull today's outfit from the wardrobe when he sees movement on the veranda from the corner of his eye. He huffs a laugh. Alec and Chairman Meow have become fast friends. It always makes Magnus’ heart melt a little whenever he catches them snuggling. This time is no exception. The cat isn't supposed to be outside, though. Did Alec catch him there or did he carry him out? Magnus swings the French windows open to find out.

“Good morning,” he announces himself when Alec ignores his dramatic entrance. Alec snuffles and returns the greeting.

“Did you catch a cold?” Magnus asks, still unable to see his husband's face.

Alec huffs a laugh. “Maybe.”

“I'll let the chef know to brew my cold concoction.”

“You have a potion for everything, huh?” Alec teases.

“Well, for many a thing for sure,” Magnus quips and sits down next to him. “Maybe you should forgo our run if you're coming down with something.”

“And spend more time in bed with you instead?” Alec asks, his lopsided smile a little fraying around the edges. His eyes are slightly red. How early did he get up if he's already tired again? Or did he push himself too much? Is he seriously getting sick?

“I wouldn't mind. We could just cuddle up and watch a movie.”

“It's just a runny nose at best,” Alec chuckles.

“You're really allergic to movies, aren't you?” Magnus asks, half-joking. Alec worries his bottom lip and cuddles Chairman close. Magnus doesn't know what he did wrong. So he asks.

“Nothing,” Alec replies, “I just… Shouldn't I start writing my speech? We have to return soon if we wanna be back for Remembrance Day.”

Magnus frowns at him until he remembers. “You truly meant that.”

“Of course. Ours is a political marriage. There will be sceptics on the Edom side, especially after the farce that was our wedding. They need to see me as one of theirs, not an enemy.”

“Alexander,” Magnus sighs. He knows he's right, but still.

“I have to do it Mags, there's just… What?”

Magnus chuckles. “Nothing.”

“Why did you smile like that?” Alec asks, clearly confused but still mirroring the mirth on Magnus’ face.

Magnus shrugs. “I am a Lightwood now.”

“Yes, and…?”

“So I got a shortened name: Alec, Izzy, Jace… Mags.”

Alec's cheeks fill with red again. “Sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“It's alright. It's kinda sweet. No one has ever called me that. Dorothea says ‘Mag’, sometimes, but…”

“You have a beautiful name, I just… I guess it really is a Lightwood thing. But I like that you don't shorten mine. No one has ever called me by my chosen name before.”

“No one?”

Alec shrugs. That damn movement. Magnus wants to ban it forever.

“Well, I always will. It's a beautiful name befitting a beautiful man.”

“You gotta stop saying things like that.”

“Why? Because you might believe them?”

“Maybe,” Alec allows.

“Then I shall repeat them, again and again.”

“You're terrible.”

“I know,” Magnus says and presses a kiss to Alec's cheek. “I'm also very hungry.”

“Me, too,” Alec says and puts the cat down. Magnus watches Chairman walk in again before he guides his gaze back to his husband. Something about Alec feels off, despite the ease of their conversation. Did he read the latest news about them? Magnus hopes he didn't. The media got hold of a few of his college classmates and even an anonymous source that claimed to have been in the academy with him. They painted the picture of a weird tomboy and lone wolf. His dead name was plastered all over the page, his pre-transition face, too. And not just the official Olympia photos. Someone went digging.

“Is there something you wanna talk about, Alexander?” he asks.

“No. I just…” Alec lets out a ragged breath before he smiles at him. “The last few days here have been a lot.”

“A lot of fun, I hope,” Magnus says, stomach twisting in unease.

“Yes. For sure,” Alec says, rubbing his hands against each other as if to remove dried sand despite them being perfectly clean.

“You can talk with me about anything. You know that, right?” Magnus asks.

“I know,” Alec says. He doesn't sound as if he does. For all the physical closeness they've shared, communication is still a work in progress.

Magnus cups his husband's cheek. “I wish you'd share more of your inner world with me.”

“I'm not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ. I think there's plenty that's interesting for me to discover. If you'd let me in.”

“Some things just hurt too much to share them,” Alec says, finally meeting his eyes.

Magnus nods in understanding. “Just know that I am here, whenever you're ready.”

Alec leans in for a kiss. Magnus welcomes his lips. He hopes, one day, Alec will share his burdens with him. For now, he has to be content with making him forget about them for a while. It's better than nothing.

Chapter Text

Alec takes a deep breath to gather courage. He's been struggling since he tested this morning. How threatening two pink lines can be. He barely got through his sets, but he pushed through them with sheer discipline.

Today is the day. They could make a baby. The thought is surreal. Magnus still hasn't said anything regarding the elephant in the room, but they've made progress over the past few days. This is the logical next step, and if Alec is lucky, it will be worth it.

He knows he shouldn't think of sex in such terms but it's easier than letting his dysphoria consume him. It's a mission. With that framing, nearly everything is possible. On a mission, Alec's body is a tool. That's a state Alec is familiar with. Maybe that's the only thing that has always been in the cards for him. But when he is with Magnus, nothing could be further from that “truth”. Magnus is attentive, everything he says and does pointing towards him wanting Alec to feel safe and good. Alec has wrestled with that every day since their wedding. This should be a mutual thing but there's not much he has to offer, is there? He found it only fair to let Magnus enjoy his body after he enjoyed his in the afternoon. That Magnus always holds his hand during ‘pleasuring’ him is nice, an anchor for Alec's straying, ever dissociating mind.

Alec still can't fathom what's going on when Magnus touches him. He's not pretending. He's just… completely separated from his body's experience, watching his body react in thankfully ever shrinking horror. One day, he might even get used to it. He'd better. He doesn't want to feel like only doing his duty in bed for the rest of his life.

Magnus pulls involuntary reactions from him, again and again. His body acts appropriately, Alec supposes. He feels guilty. It's as if he's lying. He isn't. Not really. Is it a crime if it makes Magnus happy? Isn't that the main goal in a relationship?

Alec hopes his body will go on autopilot this time, too. It's… bearable. Not terrible, exactly. Not nice, either. But this is huge. He'll have to let Magnus inside, and not in a controlled way. Yesterday, he came between his thighs. Today…

“Are you okay, Alexander?” Magnus’ gentle voice cuts through the noise in his head.

“Yeah, just…” Another gulp of air. “...we… It's time to go all the way.”

Magnus doesn't move from where he's nestled against Alec's chest. “Is it?” he asks.

Alec huffs a laugh. Does Magnus want him to spell it out for him? No. He's not that cruel. Alec runs his hand through Magnus’ floppy hair. It feels like silk between his fingers, the colour such a stark contrast to his golden skin.

“Yes,” Alec replies. He sounds convincing to his own ears. Magnus will make this as good as possible for him. He's always so gentle, so considerate. He deserves someone who is able to enjoy all of it. But he's stuck with him now, for better or for worse.

Magnus props up his head and regards him for a long moment.

“Are you sure? We don't have to.”

It's a generous lie. Of course, they have to. Time is running out. Alec appreciates that Magnus doesn't push for it, but he doesn't know that he'll be most fertile in the next couple of hours. And he probably thinks they'll have plenty of opportunities if it doesn't work in the first month of their marriage. But Alec isn't a woman on the top of her fertility game. He's a man with several years on testosterone. No one can predict if his body will ovulate again after this time.

“I need this,” Alec replies. It's not a lie. He needs this to be over. He wants to enjoy the last days of their honeymoon. And he won't be able to if he can't tick this off his duty list.

“Okay,” Magnus says and leans up for a kiss.

Yes. It's gotta be okay.

It's so not okay. Magnus has tried all his tricks to get him to loosen up, but Alec can't relax. It's painful, feels so utterly wrong. Not that he would voice that. He's trying the breathing exercises he used to calm down during tournaments. They help somewhat.

“So wet for me,” Magnus coos against his ear, not daring to kiss him. Not after eating him out. God, Alec hates it, even more now that he can see Magnus’ head move. It was a mistake to show himself. Magnus’ eyes were sparkling however when Alec stretched out his body on golden sheets. But now, Alec can't even try to pretend he's getting a blow job. Not that that worked great with Magnus hidden under the blanket, but it was easier. Now, everything is out in the open, and Magnus’ enthusiasm for Alec's genitals has skyrocketed. His delight in spasming legs and involuntary moans, too.

Alec hums. Izzy was right. Men who like to fuck women get off on wetness. The thought shoots an ice cold shiver through Alec's body. Maybe that's all Magnus can see in him now.

“Perfect,” Magnus breathes, taking the reaction for pleasure. Alec keens. This is all wrong on so many levels. He hates everything about this, himself and his stupid body the most.

Magnus kisses his neck, sucking hard on that one pleasure point Alec's body grants him. He probably leaves a mark, but Alec doesn't care. The distraction is more than welcome, even though it makes him disgustingly wetter. The sheets must be soggy by now. Those expensive sheets with a high thread count made of Egyptian cotton.

The curtains are from India, made of Sari fabric. Alec has forgotten if it was satin or silk, but trying to remember helps him redirect his spinning mind.

“Focus,” he hears his old trainer Hodge say, “is not about the end goal but every step of the way, every detail that might throw you off track or bring you a step closer. Focus is action and reaction alike.”

Isn't that the truth? He's been so focused on getting relaxed enough so that Magnus can get inside of him. He was passive, let Magnus try. But his husband is careful and caring. What if that's the wrong approach?

“Kiss me,” Alec all but orders. Magnus always loses his mind a bit when he kisses him deep and wanton.

“You don't—” Magnus protests but Alec shuts him up, ravaging his mouth with single-minded focus. How Magnus can find his taste hot will always evade him, but what is a bit of bad flavouring against Magnus melting into a puddle. When Alec touches him, Magnus is hard between his legs and wet himself. Alec shuts up his mind that wants to compare the two. He needs to stay focused.

He flips them over in one smooth motion, Magnus’ eyes wide in surprise but filled with hunger when Alec kneels over him, his body more on display than ever before.

Focus!

On the lust in Magnus’ eyes, his throbbing cock, the goosebumps blooming under Alec's fingertips when he dives in for another kiss, the guttural moan he pulls from his lips when he lines his hole up and touches the tip of Magnus’ dick with the most intimate and hated part of his body.

“Alexander,” Magnus presses out, hands reaching out to grab his hips.

“I love you,” Alec says with tears standing in his eyes as he rams down and forces his body to open up.

“Every woman can take a penis,” the sex advisor said. Well, and some men can take it, too.

Chapter Text

The tightness around him punches the air out of Magnus’ lungs.

“Ale… Slow down,” he manages. Alec stops his frantic riding immediately, looking down at him with wide eyes.

“Breathe,” Magnus says, catching his own breath. Alec nods and takes a few deep breaths.

“I wasn't expecting this,” Magnus chuckles. He so wasn't. Not that he's complaining, but…

“I thought you'd like it,” Alec croaks.

“I do,” Magnus says. “But maybe give yourself a bit more time to get used to it, huh?” he suggests. Alec was so tight when he tried to finger him open. Magnus isn't full of himself, but he isn't exactly on the small side. He searches for signs of pain on Alec's face but he finds none. This has gone way different than that one time in…

Magnus stops his train of thought. He shouldn't be the one all over the place. But Alec is overwhelming in the best way. He's gorgeous like this, fully on display, miles of skin all for Magnus’ enjoyment.

His eyes fall on Alec's dick. Does he even call it that? Magnus needs to ask but now is probably the wrong time. Does he always shave? No. Magnus didn't see much that day at the lake, but he did see Alec's muff. His family took so much of his agency. But Alec is fighting to get it back. Even now. Magnus couldn't be prouder.

Alec wets his lips and starts moving again, this time slower, a concentrated frown pulling his eyebrows tight. Magnus closes his eyes for a moment, trying to get used to the vice that is his husband's… Another term to ask for.

Whatever Alec calls it, it feels perfect, warm, wet and tight. Magnus won't last long. He tells Alec as much.

“Can we turn this around?” Alec asks.

Magnus blinks up at him. Was his gaze too much?

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he replies. Alec slides off him and onto his stomach.

Oh.

“Are you sure you want to continue? There's no rush.”

“I'm ready, Mags. Please.”

“Okay,” Magnus says. “Let me put a pillow under… yeah, just like that.” He takes a deep breath as he situates himself on Alec's thighs, enthralled by the glistening pink inviting him.

He runs his hands over Alec's perfect glutes and lower back. As he leans down to place a kiss on his neck, he pushes in cautiously, enjoying the slide and the moan falling from Alec's lips. This is heaven with a capital H.

He interlaces their fingers as he showers Alec with praises.

He doesn't make it far, his orgasm building rapidly. He comes with Alec's name on his lips. Magnus smiles to himself when he slowly comes down from his high. He squeezes Alec's hands and kisses the mark on his neck, eliciting an aftershock.

Alec curls into his arms when Magnus slides off him. Magnus presses a kiss into his hair and closes his eyes, his body sated and his heart full.

“Can I join you?” Magnus asks, sitting up from where they were lying wrapped around each other just a moment ago.

“You don't hafta. I'll just take a quick shower.”

“I could lather you up,” Magnus offers, feeling as if Alec is slipping through his fingers. They were so close, so utterly one just a few minutes ago. He wishes Alec would have stayed in his arms a little longer.

“If you wanna,” Alec allows. Excitement sounds different.

“I just thought it would be a nice finish to what we just shared, but if you need some space…” Magnus says, trying not to panic. Was it too much? Too soon? Is Alec regretting it?

Alec nods, still sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Magnus says, brushing his hand over Alec's back.

Alec huffs a laugh. “It's kinda weird that babies are made like this.”

From all the possible directions Magnus expected this to go, this wasn't one of them.

“Well… Not weirder than parthenogenesis. Nature is strange like that. Though I'd say, humans have more fun than rotifers.”

Much to Magnus’ relief, Alec chuckles. “I suppose you're right.” Still, he pinches the flesh next to his thumb, the skin an angry red by now.

“What is it?” Magnus asks, moving closer to cup Alec's cheek.

“Can we watch a movie after the shower?” Alec asks.

“Sure,” Magnus says, not entirely sure if he should accept the deflection or not. “Any special wishes?”

Alec shrugs, a lopsided smile curling up his lips. “One of your favourites?”

Magnus raises his eyebrows in amusement. Alec is giving him whiplash, but what's new?

“What genres do you like?” Magnus asks. Alec shrugs. “What was the last movie you enjoyed?” Magnus enquires.

“Thor: Love and Thunder.”

“Superheroes, I see. Not my usual style. Mmh. Let me think about it. Have you ever seen ‘Moulin Rouge’?”

“No.”

“Do you like musicals?”

“I don't hate them.”

Magnus chuckles. “Well, that's a start. Baz Luhrmann is one of my favourite directors, and he incorporated two of my favourite operas in the movie. Also… Ewan McGregor. Do I have to say more?”

“The one from ‘Star Wars’?”

Magnus chuckles. “Superheroes and science fiction.”

Alec blushes. “I only went to the movies with Jace.”

“There's nothing wrong about liking those films, Alexander.”

“But you're more sophisticated than that.”

“Says who? I like many different things, and the beauty is, we get to share those with each other now.”

“You're right,” Alec says. He leans in and places a sweet kiss on his lips that shoots butterflies through Magnus’ body. Then he gets up and walks naked to the en-suite. That's a first. Magnus looks his fill before he follows him. He's so blessed with this sexy, brooding man. Magnus feared for a moment that he hurt himself but Alec knows his limits. And he knows what he wants. Him. Magnus is one lucky man.

“Is our sex okay?” Alec asks a few minutes later when Magnus rubs the suds over his back.

“Okay?” Magnus croaks, taken off guard.

“It's… you did it with so many people before. It's not really new to you.”

Magnus hums in understanding. “Well, you are new to me. Sex is between two or more partners. It's always different.”

“You had sex with more than one? At the same time?” Alec asks, eyes comically wide when they meet Magnus’.

Magnus huffs a laugh. “I dabbled in threesomes now and then. It's fun, but more something for single Magnus, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Must be nice, having two women at once.”

“Who said those were with two women?” Magnus teases, lathering up Alec's stomach as he presses himself against Alec's back and a kiss to his shoulder.

“You do have a preference for women, though. Dorothea, Etta, Camille…”

Magnus freezes. Yes, he probably mentioned the first two but... Oh, right. Alec did his research.

“I'm not sure if it's a preference. I fall in love with the soul first. But I guess there are more women a bi man could date than there are available men.”

“I s'ppose.”

Magnus doesn't think this joint shower is having the effect he hoped it would have.

“What is this really about, Alexander? Are you jealous that I've been with others before?”

“No. Not jealous, just… It's silly.”

“Nothing is silly when it bothers you.”

Alec shrugs. “I have nothing to share with you that you've never experienced before, is all.”

Oh.

“Au contraire, mon amour. You already gave me a new experience, Alexander.”

Alec glances over his shoulder, his eyes suspicious. “I did?”

“Mmh. I've never topped a man before. You're my first.”

Alec stares at him blankly, then nods, the familiar frown returning to his face. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks.

“Very much so.”

“Good,” Alec says, falling quiet again. Magnus suppresses a sigh. Alec likely needs to process the big step they just took.

Magnus’ hand slides between Alec's legs, spreading the soap over smooth skin.

“We never talked about what you call it.”

“It?” Alec croaks.

“I don't wanna say something wrong,” Magnus explains, running his soapy hand gently over Alec's private parts.

“It's my bottom growth.”

“Is that what you call it?”

Alec shrugs. “I don't really think much about it.”

Magnus is surprised by that. He thought this was one of the gender-affirming things that… Well, he shouldn't assume.

“You're right. Me, neither. I mean my cock. It just… might come up in the bedroom. I know you're not much of a talker there, but I…”

Camille always told him to shut up. Maybe terms really aren't that important. Alec seemed content with their mostly quiet sex so far.

“Just don't use diminutives… or clitoris,” Alec says.

“Duly noted,” Magnus replies and reaches for the button to switch on the rain shower.

“And you?” Alec asks, taking the body wash bottle. Magnus would love to keep the smell of their sexual encounter on his skin, but that's probably weird.

“You wanna soap me up, pretty boy?” he smirks.

Alec scoffs but a smile is tugging on his lips. “You're impossible.”

“Incredible. The word you're looking for is Incredible, my love.”

Alec laughs, quiet but with sparkling eyes. “Turn around, you incredible goof.”

“Not goof. Prince, Alexander.”

“That's my title.”

Magnus laughs out loud and turns around. Mindless banter. They found a match in each other, so it seems.

Chapter Text

Honestly, this is bliss. Alec doesn't even know why he's deflected every attempt to watch a movie together. Well, he does. Magnus is so knowledgeable, and Alec loves that about him. His husband never fails to add a fitting anecdote, fun fact or quote to their conversation. It only drives home that Alec isn't the most interesting person alive. He has read the classics which has saved him in their conversations a few times. He has listened to a few operas during their separation but he knows nothing about their history or what makes them special in an opera lover's view besides their ability to bring you to tears. Or maybe that's just him.

He's been so utterly deprived from art and “useless” information that he sometimes feels the lack of it like a physical ache. Yes, Magnus will teach him, will share his expertise, but it – once again – begs the question what Alec brings to the table. Maybe his womb's capabilities are the only asset he has.

So much of what he was taught to believe has crumbled to dust. He's back at square one, a twenty-something with a useless past and a husband who seems so much more put together than him.

Yes, Magnus is wearing scars, too. He hides them well around others, but he's allowed Alec to see glimpses of them. He also has a vast collection of experiences that make Alec's heart battle with envy and shock.

But this here is nice, with Magnus resting his head on his shoulder, their bodies only separated by a huge bowl of popcorn, connecting wherever possible. The sets of the movie are opulent, the music fun, the story bittersweet. He gets why this is one of Magnus’ favourites. He brushes away a few tears as the credits roll over the TV screen.

“What do you think?” Magnus asks.

“It's beautiful,” Alec croaks.

“It is indeed,” Magnus says, putting the bowl to the side and snuggling closer. Alec closes his eyes and dwells in the moment. Why can't it always be this way?

“It's a sweet thought,” Alec mumbles.

“What?”

“That love endures, even after death.”

“I sure hope it does.”

Alec brushes his fingers over Magnus’ back, focussing on the constant rise and fall of his chest. Magnus called him his love earlier. Did he mean it or is it just a set phrase for him? He is generous with terms of endearments. He also studied in England, so maybe there's nothing special about it.

Magnus hasn't said he loved him since their wedding service, and that was probably just part of the ritual or Alec's mind cooked it up in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Maybe it's too early to hope for a reciprocation of his feelings anyway. Magnus has had big loves before. Alec tries not to be jealous. He doesn't want to be. He shouldn't. It's all in the past. At least, he hopes it is. Magnus clearly froze when he mentioned Camille in the shower.

Alec wishes he could just ask about the kiss but that might destroy what they have built over the past few days.

What they've built.

A sex routine. A joint workout. Mindless conversations. Shared meals… Is that enough? Will it be enough when they're back in Edom? Or will their bubble pop and they'll just exist next to each other.

Alec brushes his hand absentmindedly over his stomach. It's weird what his body might be doing right now. It was good to speak it out loud earlier. He isn't sure if Magnus got the hint. It doesn't matter. They'll be wiser in two weeks' time.

“Wanna watch another one? Maybe one of your favourites?” Magnus asks.

“No. One of yours,” Alec says. “Maybe a comedy?”

Magnus pulls back. “A comedy? Let me… Oh. What about something seasonal?”

“Seasonal?”

“Yeah. We missed Halloween. It's my favourite holiday.”

“You celebrate Halloween in Edom?”

“All Hallows' Day, yes. But the American customs have found their way into our lives, too.”

“So, kids come trick or treating at the palace door?” Alec quips.

“They do indeed,” Magnus smirks. “The whole palace is decorated, and everyone wears costumes.”

Alec feels his heart dropping. “So they're gonna hate me for keeping you away this year.”

“No, don't you worry. Save for the option to get a photo taken with me, they weren't deprived. The planning is always a Spring enjoyment of mine.”

“You really like parties.”

Magnus shrugs. “What can I say? The everyday life of a prince can be pretty boring. I need a bit of colour and fun in it,” Magnus says and rolls on his front, glancing up at him through his eyelashes. The sight makes Alec's heart skip a beat.

“Did you celebrate Halloween when you lived in New York?” Magnus asks.

“While Izzy and Jace were still stationed there. They forced me to.” Alec chuckles. “But I will dress up for the kids next year,” he hastily adds.

Next year. He could be a father next Halloween. It's a nice thought. A baby with Magnus’ beautiful eyes. Someone to cuddle with on lonely days, someone to take care of, to teach how to be in the world. Maybe he'll learn that beside them.

“I love partner costumes,” Magnus muses. “I'm sure we'll find a theme that suits us both. Maybe ‘Robin Hood’ or something.”

“And your father plays Prince John?”

Magnus snorts with laughter. “You have a mean streak, Alexander.”

Alec can't make himself apologise. He hates his father-in-law, for what he did to Magnus and to him.

“Is it mean if it's true?”

“Touché,” Magnus replies. “But for the record: My father doesn't squeeze money out of his people. He is a generous ruler.”

“Good to know.”

They fall silent as Magnus searches the movie on one of his many streaming platforms. Hocus Pocus. The thumbnail looks silly, but Alec trusts Magnus. He truly does. He doesn't think he could have done the deed with anybody else. Not even the stab wound he suffered on that one derailed mission had hurt that much. Magnus was so gentle, though, said so many lovely things. Alec soaked them up like a sponge, their warmth balm to his body and fracturing soul. He prays he never has to do this again. It was god-awful. He had to be face down, otherwise, Magnus would have figured it out eventually, and he couldn't have finished. Alec knows that, deep in his heart. This man would never hurt him on purpose.

“Maybe we could make that trip to the other island tomorrow,” Alec suggests as the Disney intro runs over the TV screen. He's done his duty, now it's time to have fun.

“God, this is good,” Alec moans.

“Told you,” Magnus smirks. He did say he'd get the best food the region has to offer at this small market, but Alec didn't really believe him.

“Well, I'll never doubt you ever again,” he says with his mouth full.

“You better,” Magnus says, eyes sparkling. Alec needs to kiss him, so he does.

Free. That's what he feels, probably for the first time in his life.

“So the saying is right,” Magnus muses, "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.”

Alec smiles at the food in his hand. “You had my heart way before this.” Maybe it's dangerous to confess that, but Alec is done running from his feelings, as messed up as they are right now.

Magnus smiles at him sweetly. He cups his cheek with gentle fingers, letting out a ragged breath. “You stole mine that first night.”

Alec chuckles in disbelief. “I pushed you away that night.”

“My heart has never been a logical part of me, but I'm glad it chose you.”

Alec nods, his throat too tight to speak.

“When my son came to me after the ball, proposing to pursue you…”

Asmodeus spoke the truth. Magnus simply hid his true intentions. It must be that. Everything else would be heartbreaking, and as much as Alec has struggled over the past few days, he can't believe that Magnus is such a good actor, such a good liar. This has got to be true.

“I thought about leaving early,” Magnus says apropos of nothing. Alec's stomach drops. Did he do something wrong? Is now that they've gone all the way Magnus’ plan fulfilled?

“Why?” Alec croaks.

“This here is nice but… maybe we could do something more romantic. Paris comes to mind.”

“Paris?”

Magnus quirks a smile. “It's one of my favourite cities, and you said you liked Monet.”

Alec huffs a laugh. Oh, how fragile their foundation still is. But who knows? Maybe, one day, he will know peace. And unshakable happiness.

Chapter Text

Every day, Magnus learns something new about his husband. Today it is that Alec can fall asleep anytime and anywhere. Another remnant of his time in the military. Magnus envies him for it. His own mind is racing, keeping him from fully relaxing into the sweet weight of Alec's body leaning into his side.

He shouldn't have checked his emails. But well. His personal assistant only sent him a summary of the biggest stories about them circulating the news streams. It's time to counter the ever-growing rumour mill with facts. The palace's publications officer is doing her best, but her words are only sand carried away by the wind without the physical truth of their happiness. Well, the world will get that soon. Photos of them walking hand in hand over Montmartre. Them going shopping at the Champs Élysées. Them as they visit the opera or the Louvre. Them having dinner at one of his favourite restaurants…

How long will it take until the first staged “paparazzi” photos turn into real ones? Magnus hopes long enough to enjoy Paris and fly home before it hits.

Magnus is of two minds about how to handle it. On the one hand, he wants Alec to know that they will have a shadow attached to them. On the other, he wants him to live without care for once. Because Alec was right. There are duties he has to fulfil as soon as they're back. The requests for patronages will likely already be piled up on his desk when they return. His schedule will be well filled, and the Alec he got to know will likely study everything there is to know about his new home and Edom's relations to the world so as to excel in representing it. Also, there's the question of finishing his masters degrees. They still haven't talked about that. Alec not once mentioned his studies. Magnus tried to prompt him to talk with anecdotes referring to his own time at uni. Alec was interested in his degrees and the escapades of him and his entourage, but when it came to his own, he was rather close-lipped. Did he only study for his parents’ goals for his life? What a dreadful thought. Studying is hard enough when you love your subject.

There's still so much Magnus doesn't know about the man he married.

He opens the link to the new Wikipedia page his PA sent him. A photograph from Alec's time in the military is on top. He still has a baby face on that. They really ought to get a professional headshot made when his eyebrows have grown back.

There are several tabs attached to his short vita already. Magnus taps on the “Early life” tab. It doesn't give him much new info save for the fact that Alec graduated the Academy summa cum laude. Magnus is glad to see Alec not being misgendered in that section. Magnus realises that he doesn't even know when exactly Alec started his medical transition. He still looks pre T on the class photo.

That he got the timeline wrong becomes obvious when he opens the career tab. The pictures of his Olympic award ceremony are familiar, but the list of his achievements doesn't stop there. Alec kept on competing and winning tournaments three years after that. He was pulled right before the qualification process for the next summer games started. Magnus does the maths. Alec said he had already turned 18 when his parabatai dissolved their bond. Alec lost everything in a matter of months!

Magnus holds back the tears filling his eyes. How much loss can one person endure, especially someone so young? How bad of a state must Alec have been in to choose it anyway? Maybe it wasn't a choice, maybe it was the only option to survive.

The story written in between the factual lines is heartbreaking enough, but Magnus knows the “Wedding scandal” tab will be so much worse. Their official wedding picture is attached to it. Magnus scrolls away from it quickly. The memory still makes him feel sick. At least that part is only two paragraphs long. The world is still trying to settle on a ‘truth’, so it seems. The world will be in for a surprise when they see their honeymoon photos with Alec sporting a healthier teint alongside a nice stubble. Magnus loves the drag of it against his skin. It suits Alec, too.

He won't tell Alec, he decides. After everything that went sideways in his life, he deserves this piece of royal normalty.

Alec arches his eyebrows at the numbers surrounding them. And he thought that the dress shirt he got from Magnus’ tailor was expensive. He doesn't dare look at anything for too long. He did that with a painting earlier when they visited a gallery, and Magnus bought it for him. This man is too generous for his own good, but Alec would lie if he said the gesture didn't fill his heart with warmth.

Magnus has been all smiles ever since they left the airport, the worry lines on his face finally smoothed out. He loves this city, loves to introduce him to it. Alec has no doubt about that. And Alec could impress him in return. At least a little. His French pronunciation is better than Magnus’. Taking those online courses in French diplomacy was a good thing. He should brush up on his everyday vocabulary, however. Well, if they return. But they likely will. He thought they'd put up at a hotel, but no. Magnus owns an apartment here. It's smaller than the one in his palace but still generous.

“You need shoes,” Magnus decides.

“What's wrong with my shoes?” Alec asks.

“Nothing, my love, but you only have one pair of dress shoes.”

“And?”

Magnus pats his cheek and chuckles. “You'll be on your feet a lot, Alexander. And as much as I want to be accommodating, the boots you love to wear won't work with suits. We should hop over the Channel and get you two good pairs of John Lobb.”

Alec nods, having no idea who that man is. What he gathers is that the time of wearing comfortable clothing is over. But what is Magnus’ plan? Will he get a new pregnancy suit every month? Will they hide him from the public eye? Alec doubts that. Asmodeus will insist on humiliating Idris as much as possible, and Alec will be the tool to do that.

Alec breathes a quiet sigh. He managed to not think about this for three blissful days. Three wonderful days of them just being a normal couple on their honeymoon in the City of Love. But the end of their stay is near, and the long overdue reality check is hitting him in the Gucci store of all places.

“Magnus. What a coincidence,” a woman's voice carries cheerfully over. Alec sees his husband tensing up at the sound. He turns around, freezing himself. How likely is it to run into her, one out of eight billion people on this godforsaken planet?

“Camille,” he croaks, the word pushing Magnus into motion.

“What a coincidence, indeed,” he mutters, bringing himself physically between Alec and his ex.

“It's so nice to see you, my dear. Don't you wanna introduce me to your spouse?” Camille asks, her voice nauseatingly sweet.

“I won't subject my husband to your prolonged presence. Besides, you're banned from court and from interacting with me.”

“In Edom, yes. But France is a free country.”

“She's banned from court? She's a duchess,” Alec croaks.

“I suppose, there is no need in introducing us, after all,” Camille smirks. Magnus looks at Alec, devastation washing over his face when realisation hits.

“I can explain,” he says.

“No need. In Idris’ eyes we weren't married yet,” Alec presses out. In his heart, they were, but this clearly isn't a lovers’ reunion. Or was she banned so as not to cause havoc? Is she a stalker? Is this some kind of test? Is Magnus in danger?

Alec meets eyes with Helen, a slight nod signalling that she's ready to go all in in the blink of an eye. Alec is, too.

“It was really rude not to invite me to your wedding,” Camille says. “I would have loved to see the beautiful bride.” The sardonic grin on her face makes Alec want to punch right into her perfect little face.

“Don't you dare,” Magnus hisses.

“What?” Camille purrs. “You found someone to play both parts in bed and life, the best of both worlds. Isn't that the dream of every bisexual?”

“Last warning,” Magnus says, straightening up to his full height.

“Or what? I'm sure they have figured it out already. You prefer your partners smart, Magnus, or have you strayed from that path?”

“Alec uses he/him pronouns,” Magnus says firmly, not accepting her bait.

Camille rolls her eyes. “I just don't get it,” she drawls.

“Because your heart is incapable of love,” Magnus hisses.

“You call this love? You two just met. But he won't last, unless…” Her gaze goes past Magnus, settling on Alec's stomach for a moment.

“Unless…?” Magnus demands to know, but Camille just giggles.

“I'll get some fresh air,” Alec presses out and turns on his heels. He won't give either of them an emotional outburst.

He pulls out his phone when the cold November air hits his face. At least, they are in the same time zone as his sister again.

“Hey, Iz,” he says when she picks up. “Guess where I am?”

Isabelle chuckles. “In Paris, or have you moved on?”

“How do you know?” he asks, flabbergasted.

“Your pictures are all over the media.”

“Are they?” he croaks.

“You're looking good, in case you're worried about that.”

He wasn't.

“Do you think there are still photographers out there?” he asks, scanning his surroundings but not spotting anyone.

“Likely, why?”

“Shit! I gotta go. I'll call you when we're back in Edom.” He hangs up quickly and turns around. Magnus is standing behind the glass doors, eyes fixed on him. Alec swallows the lump in his throat and walks back in.

“There might be paparazzi out there,” Alec says quietly, glancing at Camille. “Maybe she…”

“Yeah,” Magnus says and nods at Helen who dutifully takes care of his ex. “Let's get out of here.”

Alec nods and interlaces their fingers. If this is a trap, he won't give whoever set them up the satisfaction of looking fazed.

“I'll kill him,” Magnus murmurs when the car door closes behind him.

“Who?”

“This has got to be my father's doing. Just like with the kiss. I have a mole in my security working for him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I told you. My father loves to sow pain.”

“Yeah. I know,” Alec says. But why? His parents had good reasons for torturing him. Asmodeus simply enjoys being cruel for no reason.

“I'm so sorry about Camille. Why didn't you tell me?” Magnus asks.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I wanted to spare you the pain.”

Alec nods. They're probably more alike than he thought.

“Well, it is what it is. You didn't invite her to your bachelor's party, did you?”

“Of course not. Camille broke my heart. She's the last person I want anywhere near me. Or you, for that matter.” Magnus searches his face when he asks, “Did you think I wanted to kiss her?”

Alec shrugs. “You once told me you've never fallen out of love.”

Magnus exhales raggedly. “Because I still loved her when I broke up with her. She hurt me so much, I built a wall around my heart. For what feels like a century, I closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone. Man or woman. I wasn't afraid of marrying a complete stranger because how could that have been worse than what love did to me? But then, you stepped into my path, and maybe I was foolish, but I wanted to try, one last time.”

Alec squeezes Magnus’ hand. Magnus is serving him his heart on a silver platter. How could he ever doubt the sincerity of his words when the pain and hope written in his eyes is so visceral, it feels like a punch to Alec's stomach

“You weren't foolish. Save for your choice, maybe.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because Camille only spoke out what many people think. And maybe, there's even truth in it.”

“No. Don't let her poison get to your heart. Nothing is further from the truth.”

“Is it?” Alec asks, pushing his sadness down. Maybe Magnus truly can't see it.

“I love you for you, Alexander.”

Alec nods. “Thank you,” he says. This isn't the right moment for that conversation. Maybe it's too late to ever have it. If he didn't have to google the term, he could have pointed it out right away. But well.

“Emmenez-nous au Musée de l'Orangerie, s'il vous plaît,” he tells the driver. “I wanna see the water lilies before we go home. I think it's time to face the real world. Together.”

Magnus nods. “If that's what you want.”

Alec quirks a smile. It isn't, but he can't keep Magnus away from his work, and he has to start his own. No Remembrance Day speech will be written while his husband is busy spoiling him. And it will do Alec good. He needs to pull his focus away from himself, and work is a sure way to guarantee that.

Chapter Text

“You'll like her,” Magnus says and presses a kiss to Alec's shoulder. It's been a long day but they're finally home, getting ready for bed.

“Why's that?” Alec asks with his toothbrush in his mouth.

“Her mother was a Starkweather.”

Alec spits out the toothpaste and whistles in acknowledgement. Magnus smiles to himself. He knew this would impress him.

“How come you're surrounded by so many of my people?” Alec asks.

“Because they are my people, too.”

Alec hums. Magnus isn't quite sure what it means, so he decides to explain why he chose Tessa to organise Alec's day-to-day life.

“She understands your ways, can foresee things you might struggle to adjust to. She's also always been loyal to me and despises my father, so…”

“...she will keep him away from me?” Alec guesses.

“As much as possible, yes,” Magnus says and pulls him closer to his chest until Alec puts his toothbrush into the designated glass on the shelf and presses back into him.

“Have you decided how to go about our problem with him?” Alec asks, leaning his cheek against Magnus’.

“No,” Magnus sighs, “but we shouldn't rush into action. Maybe it wasn't him. Camille has friends in high places, and she is rich. Combine that with someone being against our marriage…”

“I thought Edom is a paradise for queer people,” Alec says, turning in his arms.

“Generally speaking: yes. But you were still a Shadowhunter, Alexander, and not one who arrived here as a refugee or after falling in love with a Downworlder.”

Alec huffs a laugh. “Wanna rephrase that?”

Magnus cups his face and runs his thumbs over his cheekbones. “You know what I mean. You're not banned from returning to Idris. Generations before you didn't see their families for decades or maybe never again. As terrible as our wedding was, your father walked by your side as you took the steps towards your future with me. Tessa's grandfather sure didn't. Neither did Helen's. Family reunions are happening as we speak because you walked down that aisle.”

“Another bride would have accomplished the same.”

Magnus’ heart clenches at the image that sentence elicits. They were both robbed of seeing Alec as the wonderful groom that he was.

“No, Alexander,” Magnus says, “My sweet, sweet Alexander. Our love is and will be building bridges others can use to cross the chasm that war and hatred created between our nations.”

Alec exhales slowly. He leans his forehead against Magnus’. “You're right, it's just…” he trails off

“What?”

“Nothing. It's worth the price to pay.”

Magnus’ heart clenches. Once more, Alec had to sacrifice everything. Well, maybe not everything. He still has him. Magnus hopes it is enough.

“I think Camille is in cahoots with your father,” Alec states.

“You sound very sure.”

“Well, she wasn't exactly subtle,” Alec says, peeling himself out of Magnus’ embrace.

“What do you mean?”

The bobbing of Alec's throat as he grabs his pyjama top makes unease spread through Magnus’ stomach. He racks his brain for what Alec is alluding to but he comes back with nothing.

“Alexander?” he probes when Alec's face morphs into a closed off frown.

“It's probably nothing.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“She's right anyway. It's a tradition of your people, after all.”

“You've lost me there,” Magnus says.

Alec lets out a ragged breath. “The twelve-month rule.”

“What twelve-month rule?” Magnus asks, alarmed when he spots tears glistening in his husband's eyes. It takes an awfully long moment for Alec to reply.

“Please, Magnus. Don't make it harder for me than it already is.”

Magnus takes a step in Alec's direction, hoping to bridge whatever kind of abyss just opened up between them.

“I swear on everything that's holy to me, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

The look Alec gives him is one of hurt and betrayal. Magnus doesn't understand what the hell he did wrong.

“The fact that I need to fall pregnant in the next twelve months or our marriage is null and void.” The bitterness in Alec's voice registers before the words settle in his mind. Otherwise, Magnus would probably have laughed. That is what Alec was worried about? They're living in the 21st century, for heaven's sake.

But wait!

“Who told you about that tradition?” Magnus asks, rage slowly growing in his chest. “Isabelle?”

Alec scoffs but doesn't answer.

“What?!” Magnus can't help but raise his voice at the childish display of his husband.

“So you wanted to keep that from me, too?” Alec equals his volume.

“An old tradition that has fallen out of use several generations ago?”

“Not in the royal family,” Alec grinds out.

“What…? Alexander. You do not honestly believe that I expect you to carry a child, do you?”

The following look on Alec's face rips through Magnus like a tidal wave, punching all air out of him.

“You did,” Magnus whispers. “How…? I would never…! I…”

Magnus closes his eyes to collect himself, pinching the root of his nose. This can't be for real!

“To be absolutely and unambiguously clear,” he says after taking a deep breath, “I don't expect to become a father any time soon. To be quite frank, I don't want to. Not yet. It would be way too early. We still need to find our rhythm. You need to settle down and do what your heart desires, may that be finishing your degrees or going back to archery… We're having a luncheon with General Hugo Valencia, the Minister of Defense, tomorrow. You could talk to him about your possible involvement. You might have to attend basic training but I'm sure you'd be an asset to our forces and the sports cadre. Or maybe you want to pursue something else like expanding the royal charity branch, support language courses for underprivileged children, I don't know. The world is your oyster, Alexander, and I want you to find your purpose. A baby at this point would be the worst timing. You've just gone through a traumatic phase in your life, and a pregnancy is surely the last thing you need right now. And honestly, I'm not ready for a child either. I wanna enjoy my life with you first. A baby would bind so much of our attention. We've got time to figure this out, when and how to become a family.”

Magnus cups Alec's face that somehow hasn't lost his shocked state.

“We. Together,” he insists. “And we'll do it in a way that will take our needs into account, mine as much as yours, okay?”

“But…” Alec still looks devastated for some reason. Magnus isn't sure what to make of it. “Your father…” Alec presses out. Yes, Magnus is so going to kill that demon.

“...has no say whatsoever in our family planning. There's no pressure, Alexander. There'll be no annulment of our wedding, no matter what. And, yes, I'm looking forward to picking baby names and tiny little baby shoes… in two or three years maybe.” Magnus chuckles, hoping to lighten the mood.

“You don't want a baby right now?” Alec croaks. The poor man must be so confused. And relieved.

“A baby is the last thing I want right now,” Magnus says with as much conviction as he can muster. Alec needs to know that he means it.

Alec straightens. “There's no way Asmodeus can undo our marriage if I don't?”

“My father isn't above the law. We are married for as long as we both want to be.”

Alec nods in understanding. Magnus exhales in relief and pulls him into a kiss. Crisis averted.

Chapter Text

“9 am – meeting with the Royal Council, chaired by Duchess Irene Carlisle, the senior royal advisor. Updates on major royal initiatives, including the Golden Horizon Fund, a newly launched royal initiative supporting marginalised communities, including LGBTQ+ individuals. You'll have discussions about your commitment to modernisation and inclusion within the monarchy.

“10.30 am – Strategy meeting with the board of The Unity Foundation, the royal family's flagship charity. It's a brainstorming session with Dr. Elena Novak, the foundation's executive director, to expand LGBTQ+ advocacy and youth education initiatives programs in partnership with several national and international organisations.

“12 pm – Working luncheon in the Hall of Mirrors, including notable figures such as General Hugo Valencia, Minister of Defense, and Dame Astrid Bellamy, a humanitarian leader. Topics include strengthening military family support programs and funding medical care for underserved populations.

“2 pm – Official visit to the Radiance Inclusion Centre, a prominent organisation advocating for the rights of LGBTQ+ individuals and other minorities. Meeting with CEO Rahel Onuoha and volunteers. There'll be a roundtable discussion on challenges faced by marginalised groups. You will deliver a short speech about your personal journey and the monarchy's commitment to fostering inclusion.”

“A speech?” Alec interrupts Tessa.

“Yes. The world has no real footage of you, Alec. They need to hear your voice. Literally,” she replies. “We already prepared a speech. You can go over it and adjust it to your liking.”

“Why the focus on LGBTQ+ rights?”

Tessa gives him an understanding smile. “Because that topic is attached to you right now. People are wondering if you are a self-loathing queer man. We have to counter that. Our queer community took a hit. Arguments are bubbling up that haven't been discussed in decades that we need to take away oxygen from.”

“Like what?”

“If conversion therapy works.”

Alec's stomach lurches. “You're kidding!”

“Sadly, I'm not. I do understand that you don't want to be reduced to your gender identity and sexual attraction, but this could throw back the fight for LGBTQ+ rights for decades if we don't do this right.”

Alec nods in understanding. He never thought it would take on these dimensions. He was just trying to protect his family, and now, he might have endangered vulnerable kids.

“At 4 pm we have scheduled an interview with Ezra Malik, a trusted journalist from Global Perspectives, in the palace’s Orchid Hall. You can discuss the honeymoon and your shared vision for the monarchy. He will be delicate about the whole gender swap situation. We have full editorial involvement. Even if you should misspeak, nothing bad will come of it.

“5.30 pm – Review of correspondence from global leaders, including a personal note from the President of the United States congratulating you and Magnus. We'll draft responses to letters from activists, citizens, and organisations inspired by your visibility and advocacy.

“7 pm – Dinner with the Royal Household.”

“What does that entail?”

“An informal dinner hosted by the king in his private dining quarters. I made sure to seat you and Magnus on the opposite end of the table. It will be a party of thirty people. You should be safe. You can share reflections on your honeymoon and discuss plans for your upcoming state visits.

“It'll only be an hour because at 8.30 you'll be back at the palace for an evening reception for The Unity Foundation, welcoming donors and advocates including Sir Miftah Vaughan, a leading LGBTQ+ philanthropist, and Dr. Priya Nair, a mental health expert. You could use the platform to announce a new initiative providing scholarships to transgender youth pursuing higher education. It isn't very detailed yet. We wanted your personal input for that.”

Alec can't stop pinching the flesh next to his thumb. Oh, how the winds have changed. The ‘I'm not a queer man’ he once spoke to Magnus will haunt him all day. At least, he'll be busy.

“That sounds pretty tailored to my situation,” he says flatly.

“It is. We thought it better to get out your stance immediately and fill your schedule for the next few days with the more common stuff.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“A team of advisors and staff who manage your official engagements, public appearances, and personal commitments.”

“The king?”

“Our and his advisors are working closely together. You must understand, you are a branch of the governmental system now.”

Alec nods, inwardly sighing. He knew this marriage would come with many public appearances. He hadn't understood the implications, however. Could he say no? Probably not. His transness will be the focus for who knows how long. Until the storm calms down, he supposes. Judging by the current state of the world, that'll take a while.

“So, ‘my’ speech… What is the official version?”

Tessa quirks him an understanding smile and pushes a paper over the table. Alec's eyes fly over the lines, lips pursing of their own accord as he reads the proposed text.

“How close is it to the truth?” Tessa asks, her voice warm and sympathetic.

“You've left out the Clave's part in this,” Alec states. He knows what she truly meant to ask but he can't deal with that right now. He has other fish to fry.

“We still have to act diplomatically,” Tessa accepts his deflection.

“And you think the world will swallow that story?” Alec asks.

“We only lie by omission. We can still put the records straight later on without losing face.”

“I'm surprised Asmodeus has agreed to that.”

“The king wants to keep a neutral position.”

Alec scoffs. “He wants us to do his dirty work.”

Tessa's answering silence proves Alec right.

“I bet he's enjoying my suffering,” he grinds out.

“You can channel it into something good, Alec. That's more than most people can do,” Tessa argues.

“I just want to live my life.”

“I know. But you are the prince consort now. Your life doesn't fully belong to you anymore.”

Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. As if it ever did.

“Nightcap?” Magnus asks. Alec shakes his head, regretting it immediately. Despite Tessa's best efforts, he didn't drink enough throughout the day. He ponders popping a painkiller. He pulls out his phone, glancing over at Magnus who is busy mixing himself a drink. He quickly types his question into the browser.

“Do we have ibuprofen?” he asks after reading the answer.

“I have aspirin in my bedside drawer. Are you not feeling well, Alexander?”

“Just a headache. It's not that bad,” Alec lies. He could most likely send someone to fetch him suitable painkillers, but he'll just rehydrate and call it a day. Tomorrow's schedule surely will be just as filled as the last.

“You were great today,” Magnus says.

“Was I?” Alec felt like an imposter most of the time.

“Yes. Don't be so hard on yourself.”

Alec wishes it were that easy.

“I felt like I was under a magnifying glass.”

“Well, you are, but it's gonna get easier over time. And you were groomed for diplomacy. This is pretty much the same, just not with foreigners but with your own people.”

“Everyone was so kind. Made me wonder if they meant it.”

Magnus sighs. “You made many people very happy today.”

Alec hums in acknowledgement.

“Most of all, me,” Magnus adds. “Seeing you handling all those meetings… I couldn't be prouder of being your husband.”

“Yeah?” Alec asks, his lips pulling into a lop-sided smile. He knows he's acting needy, but Magnus’ praise just feels too good.

“You impressed many, many people today. You're good at this.”

Magnus is probably just flattering him but Alec takes it. He's felt raw all day. All these young people with hope in their eyes, telling him personal stories, some happy, some sad. He wishes he could have stayed longer with them instead of joining the rather stuffy talks. But well. Tessa said he would have more say regarding his schedule in the future.

“I didn't embarrass you?” he can't help but ask.

Magnus looks up from his drinks cart. “You could never embarrass me.”

“I already did. At our wedding.”

“I was shocked, not embarrassed.”

Alec releases a ragged breath. “I am so sorry that I… Tessa said they're using me as a poster child for successful conversion therapy.”

“They won't dare anymore with your speech from today making the rounds.” Magnus walks closer, sipping on his drink. “That line about shame… did you add that or…?”

‘Instead of helping me, it only deepened my feelings of shame and confusion.’

Alec shakes his head. No, he didn't. If those had been his words, they would have been different. Shame and confusion are way too gentle to describe the visceral disgust he still can't fully shake. It's probably the oestrogen running its course, the looming pregnancy test and the fear connected to it, the nausea that still claims him when he thinks about taking Magnus in.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Magnus asks. Something must have given away his thoughts.

“It's all in the past,” Alec murmurs and closes the space between them. It's a white lie, but here, in Magnus’ arms, he can make himself believe that it is true.

A few days later

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Luke says, probing him with his eyes. Alec stares at the result of the pregnancy test, all hope that one time couldn't have been enough to take shattered into pieces. His body betrayed him once more.

“Magnus doesn't want it,” he croaks. What is he supposed to do now?

“Last time we spoke, you were convinced he expected an heir,” Luke says.

“It was a misunderstanding.”

Alec had fallen for one of his father-in-law's little games. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! He wants to punch himself.

“How do you feel about it then?”

Alec wills back the tears pricking his eyes. He shrugs. He has no idea what he feels. He is pregnant with a child neither of them wants. Or does he? Does it even matter? Magnus was very clear.

How could he be so stupid, falling for that lie? If he had brought the topic up earlier… But he didn't. What the hell did he study communication for if he can't even talk to his husband?

“What are my options?” he asks. At least, he's got his voice under control.

Luke quirks a smile. “You should really talk to your husband.”

“He doesn't want it.”

“He still has to agree to an abortion unless it's medically necessary.”

Alec nods in understanding.

“Life isn't over just because you made one mistake, Alec,” Luke says and squeezes his shoulder.

One mistake.

Alec feels like he's done nothing right in a very long time.

Chapter Text

Magnus gives the servant holding his car door a smile and waits for it to fall closed behind him. He interlaces his fingers with Alec's as soon as it does. Whoever established the rule that royals are only allowed a certain amount of public display of affection clearly didn't love their spouse. It's great to see Alec in contact with others, charming and witty, but after two weeks of touching him whenever possible, this is torture.

Magnus knows he's being dramatic, but after Etta, he never had a partner again who loved holding hands with him. But Alec does. His face always lights up when Magnus is bold enough to take it. Bold. Camille truly did a number on him. But she's in the past. Alec is his future. A future filled with love and trust.

“I haven't been to the RHO for far too long,” Magnus says. “My mother used to take me there, to play with the kids. I suppose she hoped to make me grateful for what I had. She had the patronage until her death. It was the first I chose when I turned eighteen.”

“Orphanages aren't really a thing in Idris,” Alec explains. “When both parents die, one of their parabatai takes the children in.”

“Is that how Jace became your brother?”

Alec hums in affirmation, his eyes fixed on the landscape flying by.

“And if the parents don't have a parabatai?” Magnus asks.

“That's not really a thing that happens that often.”

Magnus winces inwardly. “I see.”

“I think, if I had married a Shadowhunter, my siblings would have stepped in in such a case,” Alec says. Magnus wishes he would look at him. It's hard to gauge the level of hurt he just evoked from this perspective.

“Well, that won't be necessary,” he says. “I plan to grow very old with you.”

Alec's fingers tighten in Magnus’ hand. He nods, looking tired without the smile that had been plastered over his face all morning.

“Are you okay, Alexander?” Magnus asks. “You barely touched your lunch.” With all of their meals happening in public, he couldn't keep tabs on Alec's eating behaviour. Yes, Isabelle said Alec was fully recovered but with all the pressure, Magnus doesn't want to miss any warning signs.

“I'm good, Magnus. Just really tired. That always dampens my hunger,” Alec replies. No surprise there. They're both dead tired every night, falling asleep within minutes of their heads touching the pillow.

“You should really skip the gym and get more sleep, my love,” Magnus says, careful not to sound overbearing or accusatory.

“I always start my day with a workout,” Alec replies.

“Something's gotta give,” Magnus states. He doesn't want to be a worrywart. Alec is a grown man, but he can't shake the feeling that Alec is burning himself out, and that just a few days into his new job as Prince Consort.

“I'll be fat in no time with the regular eating, if I don't work out,” Alec murmurs.

Magnus breathes a sigh. “Alexander, A: I wouldn't mind a few extra pounds on your ribs; you'll always look beautiful to me. And B: I very much doubt that you need to worry about ever getting overweight.”

“I used to train every minute of my free time, Magnus. That body that caught your eyes doesn't manifest out of thin air.”

“It wasn't your body that caught my eyes, and that level of training doesn't sound healthy. You're a prince, Alexander, not a superhero actor.”

“I'm just not used to moving so little. I haven't even gone for a single run since we've come back. Training always helps me clear my mind.”

“Well, if that's so, we can tell our assistants to put it in our schedules. I wouldn't quite call running recreational, but neither of us has stopped for a second, taken a moment for ourselves.”

“We didn't even have time to speak,” Alec states.

“Exactly. We're both completely knackered, every single night. And while I love falling asleep in your arms, I miss… being with you.”

Alec huffs a laugh. He probably knows exactly what he is alluding to.

“We deserve an evening off, my love,” Magnus insists.

“It's only been two weeks.”

“Normal people have weekends, you know?”

“We're not normal people, Magnus. You're the future king.”

“We still deserve some time to breathe, Alexander.”

Alec nods. He doesn't look convinced, however. Magnus is about to argue some more when Alec surprises him.

“An evening off sounds great. What do you have in mind?”

Magnus smiles. “I haven't seen Madzie since our wedding day. Maybe we could invite my closest friends over, have a casual dinner? They're all looking forward to getting to know you.”

Alec huffs.

“What?”

“They probably think I'm bad luck.”

“Why?”

Alec just waves his free hand towards himself. Oh.

“They were concerned, but they understand,” Magnus says.

Alec nods, working his jaw. “Let's do it then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can't wait to properly meet them. At least, Madzie is on my side.”

“They're all on your side.”

Alec looks doubtful. Magnus squeezes his hand. His friends will see how happy Alec makes him, now that they've settled into their new normal.

The visit to the Royal Haven Orphanage teaches Magnus another thing about his husband. Alec is very good with all kinds of children, not only well-mannered ones such as Madzie. It figures. He's a big brother, after all.

He's just finished reading a book to a group of very lively children who dragged both of them to a freshly whitened wall in the centre of their home. Alec is talking to the girl who is putting yellow paint on his hand to leave his handprint on it when a toddler stumbles on his way to leave one of his own. He scrambles for purchase, grabbing the nearest option—Alec's arm.

“Oh, my god. I'm so sorry, Your Royal Highness,” the caregiver responsible says, grabbing the boy swiftly so that he can't soil Alec even more. The toddler looks at Alec with widened eyes, clearly alarmed by the sound of his carer's voice and her quick reaction.

“It's alright.” Alec chuckles. He tugs on his shirt until he can see the full damage. “Oh, that blue is great. Did you choose it?” he asks the little boy, beckoning him closer. The caregiver puts the nodding toddler down.

Alec squats down next to him. “I've got yellow, see? Do you think you have enough paint left on your hand to press your handprint next to mine?”

The boy nods, a quiet “Yes” barely making it past his lips.

“Great. What's your name, sweetheart?” Alec asks.

The boy looks searchingly at his caregiver. “This is Lucas,” she replies for him. “He doesn't talk much.”

“Oh, you're a quiet guy. I see,” Alec says and flashes him a smile that makes Magnus melt a little. “Just good that it doesn't need many words to leave a handprint, huh? Wanna try?”

Lucas nods, grinning at him.

“You first,” Alec says and holds Lucas’ hand to steady him. “Such a great handprint, Lucas,” he praises. “Well done!”

“Now, you,” Lucas says, tugging on Alec's arm. He leaves a few more dabs of paint on Alec's shirt.

Magnus cuddles the ten month old baby on his arm a little closer at the sight. Alec is so patient with Lucas, so calm and ensuring. One day, he'll be a great father. And who knows? Maybe their children will choose them to be their fathers in this very place.

Alec stares at the back of their chauffeur's head. If there were a glass panel separating him from them, he would use their elevated mood to break the topic. The round trip to the Royal Haven Orphanage is pretty much the only time today that they're spending ‘alone’ with each other.

Alec feels shitty not having shared the news yet. He should. He must. So much for being his own person. If he were just a normal citizen, he could go find a doctor and end this. But he carries the heir to the throne. Without Magnus’ consent, he can't get an abortion. Alec doesn't think he'd make that decision without Magnus in that case either, but he could. Well, it's a futile question anyway. It is what it is.

Maybe it won't be a big deal. Magnus doesn't want a baby right now. He first wants to spend time with him, the little that they have, at least. But maybe Magnus’ feelings will change when he learns that there is already a baby on the way. That would mean Alec has to go through with the pregnancy, of course.

The past hour makes him think he will have to. Seeing Magnus interact with the children in the orphanage was a sight to behold, especially with the babies. Like with little Timmy. Magnus had him on his arm half of the time they spent at the orphanage. He looked so content when he cooed at the baby, made the little boy giggle and gurgle with happiness. It was clear as day that Magnus was born to be a father.

Alec doesn't know what to do with that knowledge. He always wanted children, and he pushed himself so hard to conceive the little bean growing in him. But it's surreal. Frighteningly so. He doesn't know what he wants Magnus to decide when he tells him. Even if Magnus wanted to have a child later, how could Alec reject carrying it if he aborts this one?

“We are married for as long as we both want to be.”

What if Magnus hates him for being pregnant? He'd have all the right to. Alec didn't mean to but he basically baby-trapped him. Magnus wasn't even aware that they had unprotected sex. Alec learnt at their visit to a local centre for victim support that stealthing counts as sexual assault in Edom. Alec would never knowingly do something with Magnus that his husband doesn't want to do. How anyone can enjoy betraying their partner like that eludes Alec.

He looks at his husband who is reading a message on his phone. What if Magnus hates him because he even considers aborting his child?

Alec feels like he can only lose. If he stays pregnant, he has to survive nine months. If he gets an abortion, he will have to have vaginal sex again. He knows Magnus talked about a surrogate or adoption. But would Asmodeus agree to that? They can't even have a peaceful honeymoon without him intervening. After the words his father-in-law spoke to him on his wedding day, Alec has no doubt what the verdict would look like. He wants to see him suffer.

The car comes to a halt in front of the palace. Tessa and Magnus’ assistant are already waiting for them in the archway. There's no time to have that conversation now. He will tell Magnus when they get ready for bed. What does his sister always say? ‘Don't overthink it.’

“Did you get my message?” he asks Tessa when they step into the building.

“Luke already sent a courier. It should be here any minute.”

“Please, send them to my room. I have to get changed,” he says, showing off the colourful handprint on his dress shirt.

Tessa laughs. “I bet the journalists loved that.”

“They did,” Magnus chuckles and presses a kiss to Alec's lips. “I'll pick you up at 5.45.”

Alec smiles, still feeling the warmth of Magnus’ lips on his own.

“You make it sound as if you were taking me on a date, Your Royal Highness, not to a work dinner with the British Consul.”

Magnus tilts his head, a look of amusement on his face. He's so beautiful, looks carefree. Alec hopes he will still smile at him like that after tonight.

Chapter Text

Magnus hears the door of his apartment quietly opening and closing. Alec probably thinks he's still asleep. He puts down the newspapers in his lap and waits to greet him with a smile. Much to his surprise, Alec doesn't walk to their bedroom.

Magnus swings his feet over the side of the bed and wraps his bathrobe around himself. He walks through the dark apartment on bare feet, following the quiet noises his husband makes. He ends up in front of the closed bathroom door in Alec's quarters. Why the hell would he shower here? He loves the rain shower in the en-suite bathroom, even said it was the best after a hard workout. Why he is pushing himself like this with his already tight schedule, Magnus doesn't understand, but he reckons Alec needs it to feel good in his skin. Who is he to judge him for that? But that he still doesn't allow himself to indulge in things bothers Magnus to no end. Yes, Alec eats the decadent creations of Magnus’ chef de cuisine, accepts new clothes with grateful words. But he doesn't seem to enjoy any of it. Is life at court already sucking the life out of him? Or are these the after-effects of a life spent forcing discipline on himself to earn other people's approval?

Magnus doesn't know how to make Alec believe that he is enough, just as he is. He can't wait for Christmas to arrive, to get away with him to New York and hopefully see Alec relax in his old stomping ground.

Magnus knocks at the door, pushing the handle a moment later. Much to his surprise, he finds the door locked.

“Alexander?” he speaks up.

“Magnus. I thought you were sleeping.”

“Not without your warmth,” Magnus pouts. His husband deserves to know how much he needs him, how much their physical closeness means to him.

“Sorry,” Alec replies, sounding strained.

“Are you alright?” Magnus asks, straightening in alarm.

“Yeah, I just… pushed a bit too hard.”

“Do you want me to call Luke?”

The key turns, and Alec opens the door, sticking his head through the gap. “I'm fine, Magnus. Stop fussing.”

“I might if I can join you under the shower,” Magnus smirks.

“Nope.”

Magnus gapes at him. “Nope?”

“You heard me right. You know how we get.”

“What? I can't make out under the shower with my husband?”

“Not when the Crown Princess of Eltovia is having breakfast with us.”

“You're so disciplined.”

“And still, I'm gonna be late if you detain me any longer,” Alec says and pushes the door closed again. Magnus huffs a laugh. Just once, he actually wants to see Alec push the boundaries a little and be fashionably late for something. It would do him good to loosen up a little.

“Challenge accepted,” he says to himself and walks back to his bedroom, because Alec is sadly right. Leaving their first international guest waiting is not a good idea. He has to get ready. The only light in all of this is that he will see Alec in his brand new suit. It's a beautiful tan one. Alec will look dashing in it. Everyone will see what a good catch his husband is. And if the press catch him making mooneyes at Alec, so be it. He's a man in love, and he will help his husband find his footing beyond duty and outward expectations.

Alec exhales slowly, leaning his forehead against the cool wood of the bathroom door. He hears Magnus murmur something but can't make out the words. He probably ran into Chairman Meow.

Alec has been feeling sick all morning, pushing through it but sitting more around the gym than actually moving weights. He has no idea how he'll get through the working breakfast. But he will. The vomex Luke got him just has to start working. Well, it does—on the tiredness front. Getting up in the morning and staying alert is even harder now.

He looks at his reflection in the mirror. It's a miracle that he was able to fool Magnus. The dim lighting filtering in from the apartment surely helped to conceal the dark circles around his eyes. Magnus was right. He needs a break. And he needs to talk. He wanted to but Magnus was half-cut last night. This is a conversation to be had sober. Will tonight be a better option? Magnus will surely have a drink or two when his friends come over, but there'll be kids around, so maybe not as much as with his old uni buddy, the new dean of the literature department at Edom University, who brought a bottle of Magnus’ favourite Isla whisky. Alec put down the name in his notes app when he pretended to take a private call to avoid questions about forgoing the good booze. Magnus’ birthday is coming up soon. His father can probably give him a recommendation derived from that type of whisky. Maybe Alec shouldn't think that far. A lot can happen in two weeks. Even in two minutes.

Alec stares at the untouched package of new shaving blades on the shelf. It's what he came here for. A little relief. But Magnus’ interruption took his drive. It was a stupid idea, but he feels like vibrating out of his skin. This is all too much. How could his whole life come down to this in three short months?

He wants to think that Magnus is worth it all. He is. It's just hard. Different from his past as a doer, Alec feels paralysed, trapped—in his body, his marriage, his new job as prince consort. It's not fair. He should be grateful. Young Alec never thought he could have any of this.

His mind is a mess, so he gets under the shower, following the new framework of his life. His bathroom is not as nice as Magnus’. It's only a small penalty compared to what he deserves for fucking everything up. But he takes the little comfort self-punishment always gives him. This is still luxurious compared to the community showers at the Institute, and he doesn't dare switch the water to cold, worried his pregnant body might collapse under the pricking needles of icy drops.

He kinda misses living in the Institute, the clear rules and mindless routines. He misses the small triumphs every single day offered him. An A in a test, a fellow recruit who underestimated him and hit the floor, one of his tutoring kids having a breakthrough, his parents praising him that he kept the Institute running like a tight ship during their absence… He's probably selfish to want that kind of validation. Magnus said he was proud of him. As undeserved as it is, that must suffice.

“Your father nearly started a war over it,” Ragnor says. Alec can't decide if he's joking or actually telling the truth.

“You're camping up the whole story. I was banned from the country, that's all. Undeservedly, I might add,” Magnus says nonchalantly.

“So, no state visits to Peru?” Alec asks.

Catarina snorts a laugh. “I bet next year's list of destinations is long enough anyway.”

Alec nods, surprised that she knows about their plans. Well, she seems to be Magnus’ best friend and confidant. She probably knows everything.

She's been rather nice to him, however, cautious but open. So have the others.

When Magnus spoke of a small gathering of his closest friends, Alec didn't expect so many to come. Alec had hoped one of them would be Simon, but as he learnt, he's visiting Idris. It figures. Alec couldn't get hold of Isabelle all day. She hasn't read his text message yet, probably enjoying her reunion with Simon as much as possible. Alec is happy for her. He truly is. Magnus was right. They are paving the way for others like them. Who knows? Maybe the next family wedding is already on the horizon.

He thought of calling his mother. She used to be a good advisor in the past, but that picture of her has gotten flakey to say the least. No, he has to do this on his own, like so many things before. Wrath or sympathy—he will take whatever Magnus sees fit. Nothing has changed, really. He is the clay others can shape whichever way they please. And he will mold his existence around it, making a place for himself to exist.

Who would Magnus turn to if he were in his situation? His friends are all very different, but Alec guesses each of them has a strong sense of loyalty. He supposes that's what a prince royal needs to survive. It makes him miss his siblings all the more.

“I heard you have a knack for languages,” Ragnor says. It takes Alec a moment to realise he addressed him after an evening mostly frowning at him. Magnus warned him that Ragnor can come off as grumpy, but Alec senses that this has more to do with him as a person.

“Yes,” he replies. “It's fun.” What an eloquent answer. He could kick himself, but talking is hard when you feel like throwing up any second.

Ragnor chuckles. “It is indeed. You could be the Jacky O. of Edom diplomacy, bewitching all those foreign delegations with your charm, wit, and language skills.”

Alec isn't sure if Ragnor is mean or teasing, so he huffs a laugh and takes a sip from his ginger ale.

“He's pretty enough for it,” Dot says, winking at him.

“Jacqueline Kennedy wasn't just a pretty face,” Magnus protests, squeezing Alec's hand.

“I thought you were more on Maria's side,” Catarina says. Alec has no idea who she is talking about.

“I don't judge famous people for their love lives,” Magnus elaborates. “I adore both of them as the goddesses that they were and also see that they were utterly human—flawed as every single one of us, making mistakes and living with the consequences. That's life, my dear. We shouldn't judge.”

Alec swallows hard. Will Magnus still feel the same when this isn't about someone he only admires from afar? Alec supposes he will find out later tonight.

Chapter Text

Magnus unbuttons his shirt and exhales slowly. He needed this. A nice night in with his friends. He’s missed their teasing, the lightness of unguarded conversation. The evening drove home the fact that he hasn't had this since before his wedding.

Magnus looks at the closed door of his en-suite and releases a sigh. Alec was rather quiet all evening. The only time he got less close-lipped was when Madzie, James and Lucie dragged him away to play a board game with them. Alec actually laughed then, full-heartedly. There was no such thing while he was sitting with the adults. Not that he was unsocial, but even Tessa asked if he was feeling okay. She got to know him differently—involved, open, easily making conversation with a wide range of people from all walks of life. Maybe throwing all these people on Alec at once was a bit too much. But what is done is done, and it can only get better from here on.

The bathroom door opens. Alec hovers for a moment before he steps over the door sill. There's something in his posture that makes Magnus pause.

“Is everything alright, Alexander?” he asks, glancing at Alec's wringing hands for a moment too long as it seems. They disappear behind Alec's back, his whole body settling in the familiar stance. Magnus knows this one well by now, but it's not the relaxed posture his husband sometimes moves into. It's a soldier readying himself to give a report.

“We gotta talk,” Alec says, his voice void of emotion.

“About what?”

“I did something, thinking you expected it from me. I know now that I was wrong but the consequences ask for a decision.”

Magnus’ heart sinks. He hates that he can read his husband so well already. At times, at least.

“What is it?” he asks, readying himself for what's to come.

“You might wanna sit down for that,” Alec says. Magnus’ eyes go to the only unoccupied chair on the other side of the bedroom.

“I'd rather stand,” he says, frowning at his husband's strange behaviour. Alec nods in acceptance.

“I wanna preface this with an apology,” he says. “It was never my intention to bring you into a situation like this, and if I could, I would take care of it by myself, but Luke informed me that I can't. And I probably shouldn't anyway. It's just… I wish I had been smarter about this, and I wasn't. I could reject all responsibility, but I won't. Whatever you deem fitting as a consequence, I will accept.”

Alec's eyes meet briefly with his, and the distress Magnus sees in them finally pushes him into action.

“Tell me what it is, Alexander,” he orders gently.

Alec wets his lips, a distracting little movement.

“I am pregnant,” he says, voice hoarse. Three little words that punch the air out of Magnus’ lungs. How? Why?

“What?” Magnus manages just so, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. It's surely a mistake! Alec is on testosterone and birth control. That sounds impossible.

“I am pregnant,” Alec repeats. “Luke tested me two days ago. I'm so sorry, Magnus. I know a baby is not what you want right now.”

No. He doesn't. But this is… Magnus can't wrap his head around it.

“Did you forget to take the pill?” he asks. Not that it would matter but that was the case when he and Dorothea…

Alec blinks at him. “I'm not on contraceptives.”

Magnus opens and closes his mouth several times before he manages, “But… you take that white little pill every morning.”

Alec's eyebrow knits together. “That's folic acid to prevent certain birth defects.”

Magnus gapes at him. “You planned to get pregnant without telling me?!”

Alec falters a little, throat bobbing as his gaze hits the ground. “I thought you expected that of me.”

“I never said that!” Magnus raises his voice. What the hell was Alec thinking?!

“Your father took care of it. And my parents. They all said you were… I believed them. For that I'm sorry,” Alec says.

Magnus nods in acknowledgement. Alec was right. He should have sat down for this conversation. He leans against his dresser instead, their talk from the other night flashing through his mind. Alec not only thought he had to get pregnant, he did everything to make it happen.

Magnus has been at this crossroads before. It's not that he doesn't know their options. He isn't panicking. This is simply unreal. And Alec is still standing over there, not like a husband sharing news but like a soldier waiting for an order. That more than anything is breaking Magnus’ heart.

“This wasn't your fault. We should have had a proper conversation before even having sex. I just assumed… But being pregnant on HRT… that can't be good.”

Alec's eyes widen minutely.

“What?” Magnus asks. He can see Alec has stopped breathing.

“I haven't been on T since we met,” Alec all but whispers.

“You…?” Magnus’ whole world shatters. It also settles in a strange, distorted way. A lot makes sense now, painfully so.

“And all this time you didn't think of sharing that information with me?”

Alec's face closes off, lips pressing into a thin line. Anger wells up in Magnus at the sight. Alec isn't a petulant child. He's an adult. He should act like one.

“I… I don't even know what to say,” Magnus says sharply.

“Maybe it's better to sleep on the news then,” Alec states.

Magnus exhales and nods. “You're right,” he says and turns around, loosening the fasteners of his necklaces, one after the other. Alec has been doing that for him since their return, but Magnus needs his old ritual to gather himself. Something familiar, unlike his husband. This marriage is going to be more work than he thought it would be.

Alec stares at Magnus’ back, watching the muscles move as his husband takes off his jewellery. It's one of Alec's favourite moments of the day, the Prince Royal turning into his husband again. It usually ends in Alec placing a kiss on his bare shoulder, followed by Magnus smiling at him and kissing him goodnight in the best way.

Not tonight, however. Alec thinks he might have broken them for good, lost that privilege forever. The betrayal was clear on Magnus’ face, his anger audible in his voice. He has every right to feel like this, to give him the cold shoulder.

Alec accepts the silent treatment and makes himself rare. He eyes the sofa in his quarters. It doesn't look comfortable to sleep on for a tall man like him, but maybe that's on purpose.

Alec fights against the tears pricking his eyes, the pressure in his chest rising. He's such a loser. Against all odds, an incredible man fell for him, and since day one, Alec has managed nothing but to alienate him.

His fist hits the wall without a conscious thought. The impact hurts so good, deserved, absolving and punishing all at once. He does it again, the burning in his eyes receding more and more with every repetition. Being held back feels unfair, but the shock on Magnus’ face leaves Alec stone cold sober and painfully aware of every inch of physical contact.

“Alexander, stop!” Magnus orders, pulling him away from the wall. Alec's hands fall to his sides. He didn't hear him coming. He's a bad Shadowhunter on top of everything.

Alec stares at the red splatters on the wall, the throbbing pain in his hands finally fully registering. He doesn't even wince. He's shown enough weakness for a lifetime. How is Magnus meant to ever see him as strong and capable with his deficiency so clearly on display? He failed him. He failed himself, his family, Idris, Edom. Or not, if Magnus chooses the baby. Then he brought honour to all of them. The idea feels rotten.

“What is it with your urge to hurt yourself?” Magnus says, strained but not unkindly.

“I don't—” Alec trails off. He's not a liar, and he won't start being one now.

Magnus takes his hands, stilling them. Alec wasn't even aware how much they were shaking.

“I'll call Luke,” Magnus says.

“No! I can bandage them myself.”

“Got practise?” Magnus guesses. Alec nods.

“Sorry you had to see this,” he presses out.

Magnus sighs heavily. “This is what you're worried about? Not the fact that you left me standing to go here and inflict pain on yourself?”

Alec shrugs. He's become a nuisance. Magnus should have married one of the women. They wouldn't have gotten themself into such a mess. They wouldn't spiral like him from the mere thought of being pregnant, wouldn't be so difficult, and they wouldn't have been so stupid.

“You hope the pain here will overpower the pain there,” Magnus says, touching Alec's chest right over his heart. Alec could sob from how good it feels to be touched so gently. He doesn't. Of course not. All of this is embarrassing enough.

“I'm good,” he says like a million times before.

“No. You're not. You're pregnant, and you feel guilty because you fell for one of my father's stupid games. You're not the first, and you won't be the last, I fear. But that's just his poison, Alexander. We have to suck it out and take care of the damage.”

Alec works his jaw. Magnus’ words are too gentle, too understanding.

“You're angry at me,” Alec states.

“I am angry,” Magnus agrees. Alec can feel it. Magnus’ anger isn't loud, no rage of fire. It's a lowly simmering force that might consume him, probably sooner rather than later. Not even his parents’ quiet disapproval burnt this hotly.

This is it. Alec will learn now how Edom deals with inconvenient spouses.

Chapter Text

Magnus runs a hand over his face. Lashing out won't help anyone. He wants to scream however. Maybe he should, but Alec's hands are still bleeding, and he has been tortured enough.

“I am angry at your parents who took away from you what makes you feel good and in control of your body. I hate my father because he pressured you in unspeakable ways to do something you clearly weren't ready for. I am angry at myself, because I didn't think of addressing this part of our relationship and that I couldn't protect you from this.”

“It's okay, Magnus. You don't have to hold back.”

Magnus’ eyes jump to Alec's face.

“I won't add insult to injury, Alexander.”

Alec nods. “Okay.”

It isn't. Absolutely nothing is okay. Their marriage is a mess. Alec obviously expects Magnus to punish him. But for what? For not addressing something that must have been devastating and confusing, given the way Magnus has treated him otherwise? Anger is such an easy emotion to fall back on to instead of dealing with all those unpleasant emotions woven in-between and lying underneath. Magnus knows he can't access them right now. Not with his husband still so utterly broken in front of him.

“Where do we go from here?” Alec asks, voice hoarse as if he had screamed. There's poetry in that, Magnus supposes. How many silent screams did it take Alec to make it to this point. How many more would he have managed to suffer through if this pregnancy hadn't forced him to step out of his misery.

“I think we'll go to bed, get some sleep and talk in the morning. No matter what will come out of it—it has to wait till Monday anyway.” Magnus hates that that's true. Tomorrow is Remembrance Day. He can cancel many things, but not this.

“You're right,” Alec says. “I'm sorry for—”

“I don't wanna hear apologies,” Magnus cuts him off. It sounds harsher than he intended it to. So he adds a little gentler, “Do you want to be pregnant?”

“That's not my decision to make,” Alec replies.

Magnus closes his eyes. “It is. It is only your decision to make.”

Alec nods, tears glimmering in his eyes. “I understand.”

Magnus sighs. “I don't think you do.”

“Probably not,” Alec mumbles. “Will you forgive me, either way?”

“There's no need for forgiveness.”

Alec purses his lips but stays quiet. He probably disagrees.

“I will inform Tessa that you won't join the functions tomorrow.”

“But…” Alec protests.

“It will be freezing cold all day, and the forecast says it will rain.”

“I went through military training. You really think I'm too precious for the occasion?” Alec asks. “I prepared my speech. Besides, people will ask questions. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Magnus grinds out, the handle on his anger slowly slipping. Why did he have to marry such a stubborn man who will probably never understand the concepts of self-care and self-preservation.

“Unless you're sending me away after this,” Alec answers.

“Away?” Magnus croaks.

“I would understand…” Alec trails off.

“Would you? You think that's who I am? A tyrant who does with you as he pleases?”

“I didn't mean to imply…”

Magnus scoffs. This is going too far!

“I thought you knew me, Alexander. I thought you saw me for who I am. And now, I learn that you think I'll kick you to the curb for no other reason than falling pregnant, a thing two people are responsible for. What else do you think about me? Where else did you pretend? Did you lie to me? Did you force yourself to sleep with me to get pregnant?”

It was a sentence spoken in anger and wounded vanity, but nothing could have set Magnus up for Alec's reaction.

“I'm sorry,” he says, giving him an answer Magnus could never have been prepared for.

“You… you didn't,” Magnus whispers, desperation tightening his chest. “Please tell me you didn't!” Alec wets his lips, his eyes flickering through the room. Magnus’ heart scatters into a million pieces. “I can't believe I fell for that!” he spits. “When I grew up, people warned me to never trust a Shadowhunter. I should've listened. But I guess lying runs in the family.”

“Magnus,” Alec presses out. “I didn't lie to you.”

“No? Pretending to love someone is lying. Pretending to desire someone is lying. What am I to you? The only escape from a miserable life?”

“I didn't pretend. I love you, and you're the only man I've ever dared to dream about being happy with.”

“But you're not, are you? You're miserable. You forced yourself to sleep with me to have a child I don't even want. How do you think that makes me feel?”

Alec works his jaw, probably suppressing another apology.

“I adored you,” Magnus continues. “I desired you. I wanted to make you feel good, and you used my love to hurt yourself. Well, I'm letting you know, I won't be a weapon of your self-destruction anymore.”

Alec reaches out for him, but Magnus takes a step back. He might grow weak if Alec touches him. But he can't let that happen. Who knows if Alec isn't pushing himself to do it out of fear. They have to clear up so many things before – if ever – resuming intimacy.

“Heidi?” Magnus calls, confusion spreading over Alec's face. The door opens a moment later. “Please lead the Prince Consort to the purple room. He needs to rest. Let him sleep in tomorrow,” Magnus tells the servant on duty.

“Of course, your Royal Highness.”

“Magnus,” Alec protests.

“Take the day off. Feel free to contact Luke if you need his services.”

Alec gapes at him for a moment before he collects himself. “That's not fair,” he says quietly, composed. “I worked really hard on that speech, and it was announced already…”

Magnus sighs in defeat. He thinks Alec needs a real break but his husband's got a point.

“Alright. I'll see you at the wreath-laying ceremony. But you're gonna rest and eat. I can't have you collapsing in front of the cameras. And I expect you not to pretend to be fine anymore.”

“I did this for us, Magnus. All I wanted was for you to be happy,” Alec states. Magnus doesn't say that he achieved the opposite, that he broke his heart just now.

“I told you I needed honesty. That's what makes me happy. Now, leave.”

Alec sets his jaw and nods. “Yes, Sir,” he says and turns away, the two little words daggers to Magnus’ heart. He has no idea how to handle this, but with Alec out of sight, he feels like he can breathe again at least.

He grabs the crystal bottle from his drinks cart on his way back to his bedroom. He knows he'll need it. Alec let him use his body, let him violate him, probably forced himself to service him. Was any of that real? With all the fucked up things being bestowed on Alec, was there ever a way for Magnus to truly get his consent, uncoerced and full-heartedly given? Alec did want sex that night at the beach. Magnus is pretty sure of that. And he initiated every sexy time during their honeymoon until…

Fuck!

How is Magnus ever supposed to fall asleep again, knowing he did this to the man he loves?

“Thank you, Heidi,” Alec croaks.

“Anything else I can do for you, Sir?” she asks. Alec thinks about asking her to get his phone but what would he even do with it? He was just sent away by the only person he could talk to about this.

“No. Have a good night.”

“You, too, Sir,” she says, giving him a sad smile.

The door closes, and with it, Alec's strength crumbles. His knees give out. He plummets to the ground, tears flowing silently over his cheeks as he replays their last conversation in his mind, again and again. His mind understands, but his heart cannot accept what he has done wrong in Magnus’ eyes. He's not a liar. He isn't. He didn't pretend, either. But he didn't correct his body's messages. He should have. He understands that now. But Magnus seemed so happy. How can that be bad? Sex is part of a relationship. It's not Magnus’ fault that Alec is dysphoric.

Magnus made it clear that he deems it bad, however. So much so that he banned him to the other side of the palace. To think about his transgression, Alec guesses. He ordered him to stay away until the necessary public appearance, too. That hurts the most. No joint breakfast, no night spent in each other's arms. At home, Alec is persona non grata now.

Alec pulls himself up onto the bed, legs stiff from too much time kneeling on the ground. There's no use in wallowing in self-pity. He needs to make things right again between them. But how? He has no leverage, nothing to offer but to make himself a clean slate again, to build trust and regain Magnus’ faith in him, his dedication, and his willingness to put effort into building a long lasting, happy marriage.

His speech at the wreath-laying ceremony will be his first step. He will practise it all day. No sound will be off, no syllable stressed incorrectly. He will be a husband Magnus can be proud of, a partner who Magnus can lean on, his rock, his trusted confidant, a partner in crime for all Alec cares. And maybe, just maybe, one day, he can be his lover again, too.

Chapter Text

“Are you alright?” Tessa asks at the morning meeting.

“You should enquire about Alec, not me,” Magnus mumbles, his concealer working overtime.

“Well, my boss isn't answering his phone, so…”

“He is…?” Magnus sighs. “Helen, would you please take care of getting my husband his phone without disturbing him? I think it's on his bedside table.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Why can't he get it himself?” Tessa asks. Magnus purses his lips. He knows the walls outside his apartment have ears.

“I snore, and Alec needed rest. He wasn't feeling well.”

Tessa's face falls. “He said he was fine, yesterday. We could have postponed our little get together.”

“I know. He's all duty.” Magnus hopes the words don't sound as bitter as they feel.

“You had to order him to stay put, huh?” Tessa chuckles.

“Something like that,” Magnus murmurs. The apartment was terribly empty during his morning routine, Chairman Meow the only one offering comfort to him. At least his hair of the dog is working.

“Can you make sure he wears a woolen coat for the ceremony?” he asks.

“Alec is a grown-up man, Magnus.”

“He is.” His husband is also someone who has no sense of fashion or self-preservation. ‘I went through military training.’ Magnus would laugh if it weren't so sad. He can imagine it—pre-T Alec, drenched in the rain, his slim body jittering from the cold, enduring a drill longer than anyone else, just to prove his manhood.

“If there's something you can't tell me, text it,” Tessa says, always so attentive.

“No, we're gonna be fine.” Magnus isn't even sure if he believes his own words or if he's lying to himself. How is he supposed to ever trust Alec again?

“I'll make sure that he's on time and well,” Tessa promises. Magnus quirks a grateful smile. He's so glad that Alec has Tessa at his side today. She will keep him from doing something stupid.

“Your Royal Highness, I didn't mean to wake you,” Helen apologises when Alec sits up in bed.

Alec chuckles. “You didn't. I've been awake for a while. You've got my phone?”

“Prince Magnus sent me.”

“That was very kind of him. Did he tell you something to pass on?” Alec hopes he doesn't sound too desperate.

“No, Sir.”

Alec huffs a laugh. Of course he didn't.

“I suppose he's at the morning briefing?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Yes. He has a busy day ahead.”

Alec nods in acknowledgement. At least he can walk to his quarters now and get his tablet to practise his speech.

“Are you busy, too?” he asks.

“I'll be off duty soon, Sir.”

“That's nice,” Alec says. He could never really enjoy that. But he knows most people are different.

“Any plans?” he asks. He's not sure if this is proper protocol. Many of the people working for Magnus are acquaintances and friends. That's blurring the lines. Alec should ask for a proper etiquette course. He doesn't want to embarrass Magnus. He probably already has.

“Not much. I'm picking up my girlfriend from the airport tonight.”

Alec raises an amused eyebrow. “I don't know her by any chance?”

Helen smiles bashfully. “You actually do.”

Alec nods. “Aline is a good woman.”

Helen beams at him. “She is. She's moving in with me.”

“That's fast,” Alec can't help saying.

“Not as fast as you and the Prince Royal,” Helen says, shutting her mouth immediately after.

“It's okay, Helen. You can speak freely when it's just the two of us. Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

Helen relaxes visibly. “I do feel comfortable around you. You feel so familiar. Both Aline and your sister couldn't stop gushing about you before the wedding.”

“You met my sister?”

“Yes. Simon and I go way back.”

Alec nods in acknowledgement. Edom is truly a village, at least the capital. Everyone knows everyone.

“Do I have to worry about the things they told you?” he quips.

“That depends. What is the statute of limitation regarding crossing the border to enemy territory?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow as she smirks at him.

Alec chuckles. “No idea. But it's my home country now, so I hope it won't go to court.”

“It sure won't,” Helen says, smiling. “I hope you feel very welcome here. I know people from Edom can be a little prickly sometimes, but I guess that's what they have in common with Shadowhunters.”

“I suppose. I'm still adjusting.”

“I'm sure His Royal Highness is helping you,” Helen says. Alec forces himself to smile.

“He's certainly teaching me a lot.”

“Isn't that the best thing about falling in love?” Helen asks. “You get to discover a brand new world with the best travel companion possible. It's so much easier to feel at home when you have a person at your side who is your whole world. Everything is new and exciting, and at the same time, safe and familiar.”

Alec nods despite not agreeing. It's always the same old thing for him. Whenever he strives for love, he ends up displeasing his loved ones and apologising for messing things up. He remembers well the first time he disappointed his mother. She had to be called away from an important meeting because he wanted to be picked up from the daycare centre. Because he missed his little baby sister who Maryse had taken to court with a babysitter. His mother had told him that he was a big sister now and big girls didn't cry for their mummies, especially not his as his mother had important things to do for crown and country. Alec never asked to be picked up ever again. He also stopped crying. Well, he should do that again.

“I guess so,” he replies. “You should go now, Helen.”

“I will,” she says and turns to leave. But then, she stalls. “If you don't mind me asking, Sir… Why was your schedule cleared today?”

Alec works his jaw. “I have to study my speech. I will make it in Edom, but my pronunciation is a little rusty.”

“Is someone coming to practise with you?”

Alec huffs a laugh. “No.”

“I could, if you wanted to,” Helen offers.

“That's far beyond your job description.”

Helen shrugs. “I'm working for the Crown, and you're part of it, aren't you?”

Alec sighs. He doesn't want to exploit her kindness, but he could do with some help.

“Just a quick check up would be great. I hope it's not too bad.”

“I'm sure it isn't, Sir.”

From her mouth to God's ears.

Magnus quirks a smile as Tessa leads Alec up to him. It's been a long day. Magnus wasn't even aware how much he's gotten used to relying on Alec to carry some of his duties, how much his proud and encouraging smiles have fuelled him over the past few weeks. There wouldn't have been many moments to smile today, but Alec's absence was felt, and not only by him.

“How are you, Alexander?” Magnus asks when they stand close. Alec's eyes are the only thing betraying his controlled posture.

“I'm good,” Alec says. Magnus doesn't comment on the robotic phrase. His husband probably thinks he is.

“Did Tessa take good care of you?”

“She didn't have to,” Alec replies.

“I think your man found a new friend,” Tessa teases.

“A friend?”

“Helen. I… I hope that was okay?” Alec asks. Magnus suppresses a sigh.

“Of course. She's a wonderful person, and I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about,” he replies. It's probably not the best choice, given that she is paid by him, but Helen is a good bodyguard and a trusted employee. She's also half Shadowhunter and – if the grapevine is as trustable as usual – the soon-to-be wife of the woman he nearly married instead of Alec. There are worse people to befriend, he supposes.

“Could you share a few things with her?” Magnus asks, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. They haven't touched yet, didn't even share the squeeze of a hand. Alec's hands, clad in leather gloves, are hidden behind his back.

“We studied my speech together,” Alec replies. So much for relaxing with a friend.

“You're great at making speeches. Tessa said yours is very well written.”

“That's kind of her, but she hasn't heard my Edom yet.”

“You'll give it in Edom?” Magnus asks, flabbergasted. Alec shrugs as if it were nothing. English is one of the official languages in Edom. He could have taken the easy way out.

“I didn't know you speak Edom,” Magnus says.

“I studied it during the preparation of our wedding. I meant to say our vows in it but…”

Magnus nods in understanding. Alec had simply said, “Yes,” to the priest's questions. They were robbed of so many things that day.

“That would have been a beautiful surprise,” Magnus says, the whole thing pulling at his heartstrings.

“We need to get ready,” Alec states. Magnus looks over to the grand marshal and nods. Alec straightens to his full height.

“Mud in your eye!” Tessa says. Magnus quirks a smile. He hopes Alec's speech will be as good as Tessa said it would be. After the past 24 hours, Alec deserves a win, even if it's standing in front of a Silver Cross Mother, who has lost a child in military service at the hand of Alec's people.

Chapter Text

Alec lets his eyes wander over the people surrounding the memorial. He's gotten through the first part of his speech, the looks on the faces sombre but appreciative of a pretty standard Remembrance Day speech. He takes a deep breath. The second part lies still ahead of him, and he might rise or fall with it. He wishes he'd had the opportunity to run it past Magnus, but… Here goes nothing.

“On this public day of mourning, allow me to take a moment to add a personal note,” Alec says, his eyes meeting briefly with Magnus’. Not that he can read anything in them save for the slightest hint of surprise.

“I stand in front of you as a new citizen of this beautiful country. I come from a line of people, who brought pain and devastation over this soil and who suffered by your hands, too. That we can mark this day together shows how far we've come. But peace can be a fragile state, built often on a dream, needing hard work to become and stay reality. Wounds need to heal, forgiveness must be given or its refusal accepted without resentment. Trusted bonds need to be built to make this peace sustainable, between royal houses, between private citizens, and in public institutions alike.

“My marriage to the Prince Royal is one of these institutions, symbolic in nature and yet, deeply personal. But what is one bond compared to the heartache of so many touched by war and terror?

“Despite my new citizenship, I know that many, if not most of you, see me as a Shadowhunter, first and foremost. My heritage is tattooed on my skin and written in my name. It runs in my blood and shows in my manners. So… is it even possible to get as close to you as those born and raised here are, to tear down the walls of difference and create something new, something that unites us?

“I've been thinking about this a lot since before I became one of you on paper merely a month ago. I came to the conclusion that this marriage won't be enough for me to be the figure of union and hope so many on both sides of the border expect me to be. Our marriage will help, so I hope, but I know that I have to give myself fully, or I might never truly become deserving to be called one of you. But this can't be achieved by me denying where I come from. I know my presence can be a burden for those who still hurt, the guilt of generations lying on my shoulders. I acknowledge that and stand in front of you as someone asking for grace to open a way to healing.”

Alec swallows hard. All these words can't hold the vastness of the guilt he feels. How can anyone ask for forgiveness on such a scale? But it has been done before. Idris and Edom will join the nations who achieved lasting peace after centuries of bloodshed. He has to believe that.

“In my culture as much as in yours, family bonds are what give us life, stability, and purpose. Nothing compares to the relationship of two siblings or the bond between a parent and their child. That doesn't mean that we can't build strong connections outside of family. In Shadowhunter culture, we even strive for and are encouraged to find someone who complements us, who walks by our side wherever life might take us. And as surprising as it might be, that one person isn't our spouse. It's our parabatai. A platonic soulmate, if you will, someone to share your life with, a companion in battle and during times of peace alike.

“I often struggled with my fate of not having a parabatai. But now, I understand why the Angels predetermined for me to be unbound. It's because having a parabatai would have tethered me to a country which isn't my future anymore. You are my future, the people of Edom. And so, I offer to every single one of you my loyalty, my strength, and my devotion.

“Words from the Book Ruth accompany the parabatai ceremony. I will speak them to you now on this day of grief and sorrow as a promise I give to you: ‘Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.’

“I bind myself to you for life, you, the people of Edom. I will mourn with you. I will rejoice with you. I will fight at your side and will submit to your wisdom. Until my dying breath, I will dedicate my life to one goal—no Edom mother shall have to cry at her child's grave ever again, no matter if taken by war, treatable illness or personal circumstance.

“May this Day of Remembrance become the seed for a better future, one where the children of Edom and Idris and all the countries in the world live together in peace and where joy and healing can bloom in the most unexpected places.

“Dervona Edom!”

“Edom dervona,” the attendees reply to the old expression conveying patriotism and national pride.

Alec looks up from his script, searching for Magnus’ eyes which are filled with tears. This is all he can offer. He hopes it is enough.

“You never cease to amaze me, Alec,” Magnus says. Alec just shrugs. Magnus wants to scream, but of course, he doesn't. They're in public, their departure with many hands to shake and condolences to speak still ahead of them.

“I hope it didn't come off as self-serving.”

“You spoke from the heart, Alexander. If anything, you promised too much.”

“Why? Because you think I can't keep my word?”

Magnus sighs. “No. Because you made yourself the scapegoat of a nation. You never did anything in your life that needs you to ask for forgiveness on behalf of your people.”

“I exist. That's reason enough.”

Magnus wants to protest but he has to fill his role now, his assistant ushering them to the people assembling to the side.

“So touching, Your Royal Highness,” an old woman says. “I wish my Wilfred would have lived to witness this. He always said hate only sows more hate.”

“He sounds like a wise man, your Wilfred,” Magnus says.

“He was a good soldier, Sir. May the Angels bless you and your husband.”

“Thank you,” Alec says.

“I'm so sorry for what happened to you,” the woman says, holding Alec's hand in her own.

“That's very kind of you,” Alec replies.

“You're safe now,” she says. “Prince Magnus is a good man.”

“I know,” Alec replies. “He's the best husband anyone could hope for.”

Alec doesn't meet his eyes after he says that. Is he scared of what he might see on his face? The thought makes Magnus’ heart ache.

They work through the dozens of people who either have nice things to say or squeeze their hands with tears in their eyes. Alec wears a sympathetic smile, listens, thanks, shakes hands. He looks pale but he doesn't sway, doesn't indicate any indisposition or weakness. Magnus breathes a sigh of relief when they reach the end of the street and with it the car waiting for them.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as soon as the wheels start turning.

“Good. Luke came over and gave me an infusion. Haven't felt sick ever since,” Alec replies.

“That's great,” Magnus manages. “Do you want me to excuse you from the function or…?”

“Whatever you deem fitting,” Alec replies.

Magnus breathes a sigh. “I wanna know what you think. I thought I made myself clear yesterday.”

“That, you did,” Alec says, working his jaw. “I'm tired but the function is important. People would question my whereabouts. Rumours might spread which we don't want to feed. But I'd understand if you wanted me to retire to my room and do this on your own.”

“I missed you all day,” Magnus says, reaching out for his hand. Alec looks surprised when he finally meets his eyes. He nods in acknowledgement. Magnus doesn't think he believes him.

“Your speech was beautiful. And your Edom… it was perfect,” he changes the subject. Alec's answering smile is bashful.

“I tried.”

“You worked hard. How long did Helen stay?”

“Until she had to pick up Aline from the airport.”

Magnus chuckles. “I wanted you to rest, but you need proper instructions for a day like that, huh?”

“I surely would find a loophole anyway,” Alec quips, but his face grows cautious again right after.

“And that's alright. I don't wanna change you. I just want you to treat yourself better.”

“I can rest when I'm dead,” Alec says, looking out of the window.

“Let me guess—the Lightwood family motto?”

“No. That's ‘We mean well’,” Alec replies. Magnus nearly chokes on his saliva.

“Well meant isn't always well done,” he muses.

“Wouldn't I know?” Alec says. Magnus doesn't dare hope that Alec is talking about his family.

Chapter Text

Alec's heart starts beating a little faster as they approach the stairs inside the palace. Does Magnus expect him to sleep in the purple room again? That would surely make some servants suspicious, wouldn't it? But sharing a bed with someone who hates his guts doesn't sound like a better option. Alec still can't figure out if Magnus is just playing nice or if he still cares for him. He should be able to spot the difference. It only shows how little he has learnt to separate the one from the other. He won't psychoanalyse his familial relationships now, however. His marriage might be at stake.

“Um,” Alec says, unsure how to handle this. Magnus touched him a few times during the function, but he is generally a rather haptic person, so…

“Your speech is well received,” Magnus says, looking up from his phone.

“I'm glad,” Alec replies. “Are you satisfied?”

“What you did today was nothing short of heroic.”

“There's nothing heroic in giving a speech.”

“Au contraire. Today, you showed Edom and the world that you are more than the ‘trans prince’.”

Alec scoffs. As if.

“You got that I didn't only speak about my role in the kingdom, right?” he asks. He was probably a bit on the nose with the forgiveness part of his speech. Magnus breathes a sigh. He does that an awful lot now.

“Alexander, we're gonna be fine.”

The words lift a boulder off Alec's chest, and still. “But we're not,” he states matter-of-factly. Another sigh. Alec feels like he's going to suffocate. Why can't Magnus just speak his verdict and allow him to make things right again?

“No, we aren't,” Magnus agrees. “But that doesn't have to stay the status quo. We will talk in the morning, alright?”

Alec nods. What is another night of restless sleep compared to getting the opportunity to do penance the next day?

“I guess this is good night then,” he says, a pit opening up in his stomach. He doesn't want to sleep alone in that way-too-big bed. He'll accept being banished once more, of course. If Magnus needs space, he'll give him that. Not that he has another choice. This is his home now, but it isn't his palace.

Magnus looks at him in surprise. His face falls shortly after. “Do you want to sleep in the purple room again?” he asks.

“Do you want me to?”

“I didn't ban you from our bedroom, Alexander. I really only wanted you to get a good night of sleep.”

“And put distance between us.”

“I had to cool down, yes. I didn't want to say something I would regret later.”

Alec nods. He feels so out of his depth. Give him a fight to face or an exam to tackle—he can do that. But this? He's never been in a relationship before. How does one navigate a crisis like this?

“Are you cooled down enough now to sleep next to me?” he asks. Communication is key, right? He hopes Magnus sees that he's trying to be a better husband, to find a middle ground to get closer again. And honestly, just hearing Magnus breathe tonight would soothe the edges on Alec's fraying soul.

“I'm…” Magnus sighs. “Alexander. We are married. I shouldn't have sent you away. I was overwhelmed…”

“And angry…”

“That, too. But… That wasn't fair to you.”

Alec can't help but scoff. Fairness has never played a particularly important part in his life.

“It's okay. I know my place.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Alec shrugs. He doesn't want to argue. He wants to curl up in Magnus’ arms, but when has he ever gotten what he wanted, either?

“Alexander,” Magnus says, stopping in his tracks. “I never meant to make you feel as lesser than me.”

“But I am. And that's okay. I'm used to playing a subordinate role.”

Magnus shakes his head, eyes full of disbelief. “You had a whole Institute at your beck and call.”

“That was borrowed power, Magnus. And even if… I am the Prince Royal's husband now.”

“You are my husband,” Magnus protests. “You married me, not the Crown.”

Alec nods. He wishes he could just be with Magnus, that his mistakes wouldn't stand between them, and that his father-in-law wouldn't have so much power over them.

“I did,” he agrees quietly.

“Then don't talk about our marriage that way,” Magnus matches his volume. He cups Alec's face with gentle fingers. “We're going through a rough patch, but this will make us stronger, if we do it right.”

Alec leans into the touch. Closing his eyes, he lets out a ragged breath. “Okay,” he says, not expecting the soft brush of Magnus’ lips against his own.

“We should get some sleep. Those were very draining 24 hours,” Magnus says when the kiss ends way too soon. Alec hums his approval. Magnus wouldn't kiss him if he thought his doings were unforgivable. They're going to be fine. Eventually.

“I meant it. Your body, your choice,” Magnus says. What a strange conversation to have over breakfast. But it's the only time their assistants have managed to cut out of their busy schedule. Just like Alec's appointment at Luke's private clinic in a couple of days. Neither of them knows what is going to happen there. Will he get an ultrasound or an abortion pill? Alec wishes they would have this conversation curled up in bed, but it is what it is.

“But you must have an opinion about it,” Alec says.

“The only opinion I have is that we're having a Schrödinger's womb situation right now.”

“Schrödinger's womb?”

“The physicist?” Magnus prompts.

“Physics wasn't my forte at the Academy.”

“My apologies. I'm referring to Schrödinger's cat paradox. Imagine a cat in a box, playing hide-and-seek with reality. Until you peek inside, it’s both purring and snoozing in a cosmic game of ‘alive or dead’. It’s a furry mystery wrapped in quantum magic. What I mean is: What is existing in your uterus right now is the possibility of the cutest little baby that will wrap us both around their finger and at the same time it's just a lump of cells that can't exist without your consent. We don't know what it is until we look into the box—until you make a decision.”

Alec breathes a sigh. This shouldn't be so hard. He never wanted to be pregnant. Magnus didn't want this pregnancy in the first place. But Alec has only ever quit one battle in his life—that was pretending to be a girl. And apart from his first step towards the Cup of Union, that was probably the bravest decision of his life.

“I don't know how you can be so nonchalant about it,” he says.

Magnus squeezes his hand. “It's not the first time that I've been in this situation.”

Alec gapes at him. “What?”

Magnus chuckles nervously. “Condoms can fail.”

“With who?”

“Dorothea.”

Alec nods, processing. “Was that what made you split up? You mentioned differences.”

Magnus nods. “It was then that I realised Dorothea didn't want children. Not ever. And… I am the Prince Royal. It was a dealbreaker. I was at her side the day she got the abortion, and I took care of her after, but we both knew that our relationship was down for the count. We split up and turned our love into friendship.”

“That must have been hard.”

“It was, but… It was for the better.”

“I do want children with you,” Alec says.

“I know. But that doesn't mean that you have to carry them if you don't want to.”

Would Magnus say the same if he were a woman? Alec doubts that. It's strangely gender affirming. Alec didn't even realise how much he missed Magnus seeing him as the man he is. But maybe, he's simply still a little thin-skinned from everything that has been happening to him since he decided to step out of that crowd and choose happiness over duty. Alec would laugh about that naive idea if it wouldn't hurt that much.

But not every hope for happiness is lost. Magnus held him last night, didn't comment on his stupid tears. Alec was just so relieved. He couldn't help himself.

“Is surrogacy even legal in Edom?” he asks.

“Yes, it is. Under strict legal protection of the surrogate.”

“It would be a lot of pressure for her to carry the King's heir.”

Magnus’ lips curl into a soft smile. “We could adopt, too. You just became the parabatai of the Edom people. You can be the father of Edom's orphans, too.”

Alec nods. “I guess we should keep all options open.”

“You don't have to decide your future today,” Magnus says and takes a sip from his coffee. That was not what Alec meant but he leaves it at that. Technically, he still has several weeks to decide. Maybe he'll need more time. He's piled up enough regrets for a lifetime. For once, he shouldn't act with precipitation.

Chapter Text

Magnus closes his eyes, dwelling in the feeling of Alec's fingers brushing gently over his shoulders before he unfastens the single necklace Magnus wore today. The following kiss sends goosebumps over his skin. Another long day is over, and still, Magnus yearns for more. For more Alec, for intimacy and release. But that's not a desire his husband shares in the same way. It's something Magnus is slowly starting to accept. He wishes he would have known that it wouldn't last. But he stole those precious moments, didn't realise that he took something that wasn't freely given. Unlike the caress of Alec's fingers running over his sides, his bare chest pressing against Magnus’ back for a brief moment. It's bliss, still lingering when Alec pulls back again way too soon.

Magnus wouldn't try to seduce him anyway. His soul hasn't fully latched onto the pregnancy news yet, but his mind doesn't let him act as if nothing is different. Maybe he should mention it more, but he doesn't want to put pressure on Alec, either way. Yes, he still thinks it's too early to have a child, but if Alec decides to have the baby, Magnus will be on board, one-hundred per cent. He just wants Alec to be happy for once, and Magnus will fall in love with every child of theirs. He just knows.

Alec doesn't seem happy right now, however. Not when he's out of the public eye. He's a damn good actor, granted, strong and convincing, friendly and attentive when the situation asks for it. But that facade fades a little whenever it's just the two of them. Then, he confesses that he's been feeling sick all day and that the vomex is making him tired. It's not that much openness, but probably pretty vulnerable for someone raised by Maryse Lightwood.

Alec didn't let anything of his current state slip when he had a phone call with Jace earlier while laying down during the short time of their lunch break. Not that Magnus did eavesdrop on purpose. Alec left the door to their bedroom open, well knowing that Magnus was within earshot.

It was nice to hear him banter with his brother and sister-in-law. He seemed lighter afterwards despite the briefness of it all. How will he react when they step out of the private jet, a yellow New York taxi waiting for them to drive them into the city that is the closest to a home Alec has ever had? Magnus can't help but smile at the image the thought conjures up in his mind's eye. Maybe New York will finally give them room to breathe.

Magnus already fixed dinner with the Lightwood siblings and their significant others. He plans to ignore his father's directive. It was such a shabby excuse. ‘Concentrating on his new family.’ Magnus could kick himself. He should have known better than to let that order pass without commenting on it. But he was still struggling with everything that happened on their wedding day. They still are. This is such a mess. But as much as he wants to make his father bleed for the part he played in it, Magnus knows that Asmodeus has the upper hand. All Magnus can do is bring as much distance as possible between them and make sure that Alec is never alone in a room with him ever again.

He wishes Alec wasn't that subservient to authority. He doesn't blame him. His husband was raised as a soldier, has never been free to make his own decisions beyond the strict rules of the Clave and his parents. But he has the potential for it. He showed it at their first wedding and with his speech. Magnus wants to see Alec soar. He will do everything in his power that he can, against all resistance and ricochets.

The Remembrance Day speech has sparked some controversy. Alec hasn't mentioned it yet. He probably has more personal things to worry about than stick in the mud people who reject his outstretched hand just because he doesn't deny where he is coming from. But that's freedom of speech. As much as the discussion pains Magnus, he wouldn't want it any other way. He just hopes it won't weigh his husband down. Alec's life is hard enough as is.

“Are you coming?” Alec asks, already hogging the bedspread. He will wrap it around them as soon as Magnus’ head hits his biceps. Magnus knows that. He craves to lie in Alec's arms tonight. It's there, in the dark privacy of their bedroom, that he can feel the bond between them, everything outside of their little bubble falling away and out of existence. Nearly.

“Of course,” he replies and gets ready quickly. He can feel Alec's eyes on him, warm and appreciative. A little apprehensive, too. Does he fear Magnus expects sex from him, now that the storm between them is slowly calming down?

They haven't talked about that part yet. Maybe it's for the better. They both got hurt in the process. Yes, communication is key, but how does the saying go? Talk is silver, silence is golden. Maybe they just bury that conversation with the corpse of their sex life and never address it again. As long as they kiss and hold each other, Magnus is content. He's had his fair share of sexcapades. Having Alec by his side is more important than short lived ecstasy.

Magnus slides under the blanket and into Alec's arms. He places a kiss on Alec's chest before he settles down, the warmth of his skin burning into Magnus’ cheek. Nothing is truly bad when they are this close, nothing separating them from each other.

For the first time today, Magnus fully relaxes. Alec's heart beating in his ear, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulling him in, Alec's strangely still existent trust wrapping around him warmer than any blanket ever could. His lips are tender when he presses a kiss on the top of Magnus’ head. Magnus understands now why Alec cried last night. He feels the same, exhaustion and relief pulling his chest tight. He sheds some tears of his own. He's glad that they don't have to always be strong around each other.

Yes, their relationship has started messy, but all the fractions caused by others put aside, they are really good together. And they have the potential to be good for each other, too. So much, Magnus knows. Maybe it's the undying romantic in him, but he wants a happy ending. They both are in desperate need of one.

Chapter Text

Alec pulls himself out of the wonderful warmth of the bed and Magnus’ closeness. He really doesn't want to, but the pressure in his bladder calls for relief. He weaves his way into the en-suite, running into a few things here and there. He's still half-asleep. Just good that Hodge can't see him like this. He would send him for at least ten laps around the Institute.

The hands of the bathroom clock glimmer green in the darkness. One more hour of sleep he could have had. But well. No such luck.

He closes the door and switches on the light, blinking at himself in the mirror. He can't help but smile tiredly at his reflection. Body and facial hair shouldn't make such a difference. But it does.

He sits down on the toilet and closes his eyes again, mentally going through today's schedule. He's exhausted just thinking about it. But he'll soldier through. Of course, he will. And at night, he can lie in Magnus’ arms again. Just three more days of this, and then, it's Magnus’ birthday. There will still be a few official meetings in the morning, but the afternoon will belong to them. Well, to them and Magnus’ friends. More friends to meet for the first time. He'll soldier through that, too. It's not Magnus’ fault that he married an introvert like him. He'll ensconce himself with the kids again if need be.

Lost in thought, Alec nearly misses it, but when he spots the small dot, his mind freezes. So does his body. Save for his heart that speeds up in his chest.

Red. Red on the whitest toilet paper that he's ever seen. It takes him a long moment to make himself move, to will his hand into repeating the automated motion from earlier. The paper comes back with more blood. Alec swallows hard, unsure what to do, what to feel.

He doesn't know how long he's been staring when Magnus’ voice comes through the door.

“Are you okay, Alexander?” he asks.

“Yeah. With you in a minute,” Alec croaks, doing quick work to get rid of the proof of his body's failure. He bunches up a fistful of toilet paper and puts it into his briefs before he pulls them up.

Twenty per cent. He's one of the other eighty. Or not? Maybe…

He should be relieved. Why is he so numb?

He washes his hands, then sploshes ice-cold water onto his face. It doesn't help the way it usually does.

He closes his eyes, mentally searching his schedule for a wee spot to move his appointment with Luke to.

Lunch break. If he's right, he won't need to rest. His body has taken the decision from his hands.

“Couldn't sleep any longer?” Magnus asks when Alec steps out of the bathroom. Alec hums in response and sits down on the edge of the bed.

Magnus’ warm hand brushes over his side, grounding him back to reality.

“Let's try getting in a few more winks,” Magnus says. Alec nods and returns to his favourite place in the world. Magnus’ snores fill the silence soon enough. Alec just stares into the darkness. Relief and sadness mixing in strange ways. Someday in the future, he'll probably be grateful for this.

Luke nods at the ultrasound screen and hands Alec a paper towel to clean himself up. “You were right,” he says. “How are you feeling about it?”

Alec shrugs. He's still stuck on the fact that him being so skinny saved him from having to get a transvaginal scan.

“Had you and Magnus decided to have the baby?”

He shakes his head.

“Then you've been spared the abortion pill, at least.”

Alec doesn't correct his assumption. What difference would it make?

“I'm surprised he's not here with you,” Luke says, the silent question ringing loudly in Alec's ears.

“I didn't tell him. He had an important phone call scheduled.”

Luke purses his lips. “I'm not a marriage counsellor, but your husband should know that you're in this state, don't you think?”

“I'll tell him tonight.”

Luke quirks a smile. “Keeping a stiff upper lip isn't the healthiest, Alec. Your body is in a state of emergency.”

“I've bled before. Just give me something for the cramps, and I'll make it through the day.”

“I'll prescribe you something for that, and you'll lie down and rest until it's over.”

“I can't—”

“Doctor's order,” Luke says, raising a pointed eyebrow. Alec sighs in defeat. He has no idea if anything bad could happen if he were to ignore Luke's advice, but collapsing in front of curious eyes and cameras surely isn't the best idea, either.

“Okay,” he relents. “Will I have a normal cycle after this?”

“Not if you start your testosterone shots again.”

Alec shakes his head. “I think we should freeze some of my eggs before that.”

“Alec, you're going through something traumatic right now. I'm not sure if that's a good idea. It's a pretty tough procedure.”

“Going off T again would be worse,” Alec says, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Luke nods in understanding. “I'll arrange everything and let Tessa know about the schedule.”

“Thanks.”

“You should rest. I mean it, kiddo,” Luke says, squeezing his shoulder. Alec huffs a laugh. No one has ever called him that before. It feels good, though. As if he were allowed to feel small and helpless. But he can't grant himself that. He has to be strong. Magnus has enough on his plate. He can't ruin his birthday, either. He will turn this mess into something good, and he can go back on HRT in the new year, when he's made sure that he can give Magnus an heir if he should decide to want to sire one.

“I'll do my best,” Alec replies. He's bad at resting. Being idle gives him way too much time to think. But he could get in some reading. He'll find things to do in bed.

“Do… do you have pads for me?” he asks, blushing. “Don't wanna push the servants’ noses into my personal affairs.”

“Of course. I'll tell my assistant to give you some.”

Alec nods and gathers himself before he gets up from the examination couch. He smiles at Tessa when he steps out of Luke's office.

“The doc is taking me out of the race for a few days,” he tells her.

She gives him a sympathetic smile. “I'm glad he is. I was getting worried.”

“I'm fine,” he says. He probably is. He doesn't really know.

“Let's get you to bed so you will be,” Tessa says and starts typing on her phone.

Luke's assistant hands him a closed paper bag. Alec takes it with a grateful smile. He just hopes he can find the stupid panties from his wedding day. His boxers weren't made with bleeding men in mind.

The way back to the palace eludes him.

“Do you need anything?” Tessa asks as she pushes the door to the apartment open.

“Can you send me the prep work for Christmas?”

“You're supposed to rest,” Tessa says. He just rolls his eyes at her.

Tessa laughs. “Okay, okay. But I tell you, Magnus won't be amused when he finds you working.”

“He won't be amused, full stop,” Alec states.

“He cares about you, Alec. A lot.”

Alec sighs. “I know.”

“That's a good thing. I haven't seen him like this in a very long time.”

“Since Camille?”

“You know about her,” Tessa says flatly.

“We ran into her in Paris. Didn't Magnus tell you?”

Tessa shakes her head. “I'm so sorry, Alec. She's…”

“History.”

Tessa huffs a laugh. “I surely hope so. You don't have to worry about her, so much I know.”

“How?” Alec asks, shrugging out of his coat.

“I can see it in his eyes. He's proud to be your husband. He's in love. And so are you.” She exhales slowly. “When he told me he would marry for the Crown, I… I told him I thought that was a mistake, that he deserved more. He said his big loves lay behind him already. And then, he saw you and… I know it's been a tough few weeks, but you two… Just allow him to take care of you. You don't have to earn his love, you know?”

Alec clenches his jaw. Is he so easy to see through?

“Well, he deserves someone to take care of him.”

“Your marriage should have room for both,” Tessa says with a knowing smile. “I'll send you the Christmas prep. Tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Give me a ring if you need me,” she says and places a kiss on his cheek. Alec nods, the door closing quietly behind her.

He stands there for a long moment before he walks to the secret door and rummages through his things. He finds his wedding clothes in a garment bag. It's a shame that he ripped the dress, really. Maybe a future daughter… He shakes his head at the silly thought. That dress is cursed now. He probably is, too.

He walks into the bathroom and takes a shower, shivering under the warm spray. Tears mix with water as he tries to reason with himself that he shouldn't be sad. It's just nature taking care of things. Deep inside, this is what he wanted, isn't it? For him not having to decide this. It's better this way. He would have made a shitty dad. He first has to clean up his act before he takes care of someone so dependent on him. And there's no rush. Magnus didn't want to become a father yet anyway.

Chapter Text

“Thank you, Elias,” Magnus says and closes the door behind himself. He strains his ears for any sounds coming from the bedroom, but there are none. He peeks through the sliding door, finding Alec asleep in between a sea of papers scattered around him. Magnus takes the slipped tablet off his hand and puts it to the side. Alec's eyes open, his gaze sleep-heavy.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, already scrambling into a sitting position.

“Half past nine.” Magnus sighs. “I tried to get away earlier but… How are you? I was worried about you.”

Alec's face blanks for a moment as if he forgot that he was home sick.

“I'm fine. Was writing the Christmas thing speech.”

“While looking at bottles of whisky,” Magnus teases.

Alec glances at the tablet. “You saw that, huh?”

“I didn't know you were into Scottish drinks.”

“I'm not,” Alec says, rubbing his eyes. “Wanted to buy you a birthday present.”

“That's nice,” Magnus replies, unsure how to read his husband's face.

“I couldn't. My card was declined.”

“Why?”

“The bank said it's only available to Idris citizens. Wasn't aware of that.”

“They can't just drop you,” Magnus protests.

“Of course, they can. They said they'll send the credit to me when I give them your bank details. I had about 50 bucks on it.”

“50…? What about your dowry?”

Alec scoffs. “My dowry? There's no dowry.”

“But Isabelle said—”

“Izzy doesn't know shit.”

Magnus is taken aback by the harshness of his voice.

“Sorry. I can be an ass when I'm not feeling well,” Alec mumbles and curls up on his side, uncaring about the sheets of paper crinkling underneath him.

“What's going on? Has the nausea gotten worse?” Magnus asks, sitting down on the side of the bed.

Alec shakes his head. “That's about the only thing that's gotten better.”

“Do you want me to call Luke?”

“No. I saw him this morning.”

“What did he say?”

It takes a long moment for Alec to answer, “It's over.”

Magnus’ breath catches in his chest. “What do you mean?”

“The baby. It's gone.”

Magnus freezes. “Did you… decide to take the pill?” he croaks.

“No,” Alec breathes. “My body is… It's a miscarriage.”

Magnus’ heart clenches, relief and sorrow washing over him in one confusing wave.

“How do you feel about it?” he asks, running a soothing hand over Alec's back. His husband only shrugs.

“‘M fine,” Alec mutters under his breath.

“You don't sound fine.”

“You didn't want it, I was afraid I couldn't take it, so…”

Magnus sighs. “Alexander, would you look at me, please?”

“It's okay, Magnus. Just a few days, and I'll be back on track.”

Magnus purses his lips. As if that was his main concern.

He gets up from the bed, anger slowly boiling in his stomach. Alec is pushing him away, again and again. It's infuriating. He's been nothing but kind and patient with him. But maybe their whole relationship is a farce.

“You know, when we first met, I knew that you were a wounded soul. And still, I fell for you,” he says, shaking his head. “And when you stepped out during the ritual, I thought what an incredible man you are, how blessed I am for you to choose me. But you didn't. You chose yourself that day. I was just… convenient.”

“What?” Alec asks, sitting up abruptly. “How can you say that?”

“This marriage is only duty to you. From turning up as a bride, to sleeping with me, to getting pregnant… And even now, losing it, you don't even wanna share your pain with me. I would have dropped everything to see Luke with you. I would have saved you from being turned into a woman if you sent that drag queen to tell me what was happening to you. I would have never touched you if you told me how much you hated sleeping with me.”

“Magnus, I didn't—”

“I don't know what to do. You don't let me in. If this is all a game to you…” Magnus trails off as he sees Alec turn pale.

“It's not a game. I just don't know the rules,” Alec says. “How do I make things right between us? Just tell me what to do!”

Magnus shakes his head. “That's not how relationships work, Alexander.”

“Then teach me. Don't expect me to know. We both know how fucked up I am.”

“You're not fucked up.”

“A wounded soul. Those were your words.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “Wounds can heal, and scars can soften. It's about what's underneath that matters.”

Alec nods, pressing his lips to a thin line.

“What's just crossed your mind?” Magnus asks but Alec stays mute. Magnus suppresses a sigh. “Lesson number one for relationships: You should share your thoughts and feelings with your significant other.”

Alec huffs a laugh, eyes careful as they meet Magnus’.

“I feel… What if you don't like what's underneath?”

“The things I've seen shining through… they made me propose marriage to you in the first place. And the things I've learnt since then…”

“Those weren't my best weeks,” Alec says, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Maybe not, but… we had good moments, didn't we?” Magnus’ heart nearly beats out of his chest as he waits for Alec to answer.

“I love being with you, Magnus. I just… I'm out of my depth.”

Magnus quirks a smile. “I get it. Everything is new, and you haven't stopped for a minute, taken a moment for yourself.”

“I fear what could happen if I did.”

“Nothing. Nothing will happen. Nothing bad, at least. Maybe if you talked to someone… someone professional.”

“Oh, I don't do therapists,” Alec says, getting up. Magnus’ eyes get caught on the outline of the sanitary pad in Alec's briefs.

“Why not?” Magnus asks.

“My parents dragged me from one to the next. Not all of them were… pleasant.” Alec huffs a mirthless laugh.

“Conversion ‘therapists’?” Magnus guesses, the thought of young Alec being subjected to such things making his stomach lurch.

“You mean… gender exploration?”

“Probably.”

“One told my parents to let me only wear skirts and dresses and to find a female parabatai so that I would… learn from her how to be a proper woman.”

“She wasn't your choice?”

Alec shakes his head. “I wanted Jace, and he… he wanted me.”

“I'm sorry.”

Alec shrugs. “He had a great parabatai.”

“Had?”

“Their bond didn't survive my transition, either. I mean, technically, they're still bonded, but he didn't even come to Jace's wedding.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Jace paid for my happiness.”

“He chose you.”

“He shouldn't have.”

“Why not? He loves you.”

“I know.”

Magnus tilts his head. “Do you? Do you know that you are loved?”

Alec shrugs. It breaks Magnus’ heart to see him like this.

“I love you. I want you to know, no, to feel that I love you.”

“Magnus.”

“It's hard. I know it is. I didn't think I could ever do it again. Make myself that vulnerable, defenceless. But that's the only way I know how to love. So I'll tell you this: I'm scared for you. I'm scared that you might break if you go on like this. My strong, brave Shadowhunter. So please, let me take care of you. Let me love you.”

Alec's cheeks twitch, tears filling his eyes. His throat bobs as he turns, his chest trembling with the ragged breaths he takes.

“Okay,” he says, so quietly Magnus would have missed it if his whole senses weren't focused on him.

“Okay?” Magnus asks, stepping closer.

“But only if you let me love you back.”

Magnus huffs a laugh and cups Alec's face. He brushes his thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I will spoil you rotten.”

“I have nothing to give you in return.”

“Oh, Alexander. You have no idea what you're giving me, have you?”

“What?”

Magnus nudges his nose against Alec's. “A home.”

“You live in a palace.”

“And that's where you're wrong. I live when I'm in your arms, when you take my hand, when you smile at me.”

“Magnus… that's too much,” Alec croaks.

“It's not. Here's the thing… we're always going to face challenges. So, when things get crazy, don't push me away.”

Alec wets his lips and exhales. “I'll try,” he whispers.

“That's all I can ask of you,” Magnus says and places a gentle kiss on glistening lips.

“What do you need now?” he asks.

“You. Just you.”

Magnus smiles. That, he can offer in abundance.

Chapter Text

Alec leans back into the pile of pillows Magnus collected from all over the apartment. He thinks his husband is overdoing it, but with last night's words replaying in his mind, he doesn't dare put up resistance or so much as let his face slip. Magnus thought he didn't want him. Alec felt like he was suffocating when he realised that. He's glad about the outburst. They both seem to be a little lighter now. That doesn't make it easier to go against every grain of his being.

Alec can imagine Magnus’ frustration with him. He has to do better. And he's been trying. He even asked for croissants for breakfast. They were much better than those back in Alicante. At least, they didn't taste like the payment for ‘good’ behaviour. Oh, the irony.

“I didn't even know you had a projector in the bedroom,” he says when Magnus returns with a tray table full of treats and two mugs of hot chocolate, whipped cream and all. The scent makes Alec's mouth water.

“I never wanted a TV set in here, but some occasions ask for movies in bed,” Magnus smirks.

“This looks like you have a lot of experience dealing with such things,” Alec says. The arrangement reminds him of the ending of their island honeymoon. That was nice.

“A little. And you'll get the full princess treatment,” Magnus says, wincing when he realises his mistake. Alec chuckles despite the stab he feels in his heart. He won't let a slip of the tongue destroy the strangely beautiful day. It's probably what Magnus used to say when he spoiled his exes. He's only keeping his word. Alec will have to get used to his generosity.

Magnus asked his assistant to empty out his whole schedule for the day, a mysterious “flu” striking both of them down. That's the official version. Despite his queasy conscience, Alec could kiss Magnus for it. Well, he did. A lot.

“Your exes were really lucky, huh?” he asks in the hope of diffusing the air of remorse between them.

“A gentleman serves and doesn't tell,” Magnus says, picking up on Alec's playful voice.

“Don't you think it's a little early for ice cream?” Alec teases, looking at the two sundaes on the tray. Magnus gives him an offended look.

“It's never too early for ice cream. What's your go-to?”

“Go-to?”

“Well, your comfort treats when you used to have your period. I know it's not the same…”

“It is, just a little stronger. And usually… I dunno…” Alec shrugs. “I popped a few pills and tried to ignore it as best as I could.”

“Oh, Alexander.”

It's hard not to apologise for forcing himself to function in the past. He knows that Magnus cares, but it is what it is. No one needs to make a fuss about this. Do others do that? His mother surely didn't, and Isabelle has had a hormone rod for ages. Alec has no other reference points. He would have made a bad husband if he had married a woman.

“They still continued, but much less frequently once I went on T. And the perks of being a trans man is that you're expected to act like a real man,” he says, sounding bitter to his own ears.

“You are a real man,” Magnus states.

“You know what I mean.”

Magnus nods, probably pitying him. But ignoring the whole thing helped with his dysphoria. A few toilet breaks less so as to avoid seeing the pad, and he got through it somehow. Save for last time, but that was in a completely different ball park.

Alec remembers himself as a teen, pretending it was a laceration, something heroic, earned in battle. Alec doesn't deride his younger self. Survival sometimes asks for silly self-deceit.

Survival.

He never thought about it in such terms before. Is he growing weak? Or is it the healing Magnus is insisting on so hard?

“Your words are sweet,” Alec says, biting the inside of his cheek right after. Maybe it's selfish, but that conversation has to wait until he's better.

Another new thought. Magnus’ love is a brain- and heartworm. Not that Alec is complaining. It's just a lot to get used to, is all. His foundation is slowly crumbling away, everything that once was truth dissolving in a relationship where love doesn't have to be earned. How is he supposed to navigate that?

“I wasn't sure—marshmallows, yay or nay?” Magnus asks as he gets back into bed.

Alec frowns. “For what?”

“Your hot chocolate.”

Alec blushes. Sometimes, he feels so stupid. He has a sweet tooth, but the only way to nurse that used to be pancake day at the mess hall. Isabelle always teased him about keeping a strict Shadowhunter diet even outside of the Institute. He pretty much only had black coffee, if he's honest, an occasional bagel here and there. He kind of misses the ease of nutrition shakes and protein bars that were always up for grabs for recruits and personnel alike. He hasn't eaten as much real food as in the past few weeks in ages. And marshmallows? He thinks he had them on a birthday cake when he was still in elementary school.

“How do you prefer it?” he asks, the thought tempting but the indulgence too big in light of the snacks waiting to be nibbled.

“Definitely with,” Magnus smirks.

Alec smiles. It's so hedonistic. His mother would give him one of her trademark disapproving looks. But she has no power over him any longer. The only other person that matters now is Magnus, and he decided that Alec deserves to be pampered. Despite his mistakes, despite being difficult and making the wrong decisions. It's too forgiving, but Alec takes it anyway.

“Then, I want some, too,” Alec says and watches the sun rise on Magnus’ face. It's so easy to make his husband happy. It shouldn't be. It feels odd, but maybe they both are. They can be odd together. That's a nice thought.

Alec snuggles into Magnus’ side as his husband sprinkles mini marshmallows over their hot chocolate mugs.

“What do you wanna watch?” Magnus asks.

“That Marvel series you talked about. With the witches.”

“Good choice, my love. Good choice,” Magnus says and presses a kiss to Alec's temple. Alec releases a sigh. No one will ever be able to take this memory away from him.

Chapter Text

Magnus gives Alec's hand a squeeze. He's still of two minds about having his traditional birthday party, but Alec insisted. Despite the shots he has to get every day now for the IVF stimulation therapy. Magnus is still of two minds about that, too. But his husband is a damn good negotiator, and really, this is Alec's decision. His body – his choice also applies here.

Magnus wishes Alec would give himself more time, let his body recover from the miscarriage, but he wants to go back on testosterone as soon as possible, and that was Magnus’ tipping point. Two more weeks, give or take. If the fertility doctor gives his okay. Luke said this was too specialised for him to decide. But either way, Alec could start the new year back on HRT. It's a light at the end of the tunnel.

He should be grateful, Magnus supposes. Alec signalled that he wouldn't push himself through a pregnancy he clearly doesn't want. It's still a moment of grief. Feelings are messy like that. No hand lying on his beloved's growing baby bump, no excitement feeling the quickening. But he wouldn't have had that with a cis husband either, so…

Alec looks dashing today. Magnus admires how he conducts himself. No one would ever know what he's just gone through. Still is. It makes Magnus’ heart ache. These shoulders have carried way too much for one single person, and the two of them are still figuring out how to support each other beyond protocol and public service. But these past few days have brought them closer together. Maybe this party is exactly what they need—socialising after shutting the whole world out.

Alec's hand in his, Magnus enters the ball room. It's not as big as the one in the castle, but he's always preferred his own. It's more intimate, more him. And he is the one controlling who is allowed to enter it. No one will destroy his birthday celebrations with an unwanted appearance. Not even the king. Magnus is pretty sure Asmodeus got the hint when he wasn't available for his mandatory birthday call.

Magnus smiles at his friends as they sing him a traditional birthday serenade. Alec beams at him, clearly not knowing the words. He's happy for him. It shouldn't come as a surprise but it somehow does.

Magnus loses himself in embraces and laughter, friends he hasn't seen in ages and those always close to him surrounding him in familiar ways. He doesn't even realise that Alec has left his side until a new arrival asks, “Where is your other half?”

Magnus scans the hall, the greenery that he had set up for the day making it difficult to see every nook and corner. His stomach lurches. When did he last address Alec? When Catarina and Madzie joined the party, he thinks. He spots his friend on the other side of the room in conversation with another old friend. Madzie surely is in the kids’ room, enjoying the bouncy castle or one of the many board games or eating from the kids’ buffet. He has to pay them a visit soon or the first kids might fall asleep.

“He must be somewhere,” Magnus deflects with a chuckle. “We're not joined at the hips.”

“It must be tough, being with someone like them,” Sayana, the Princess of Cirlonica, says, her voice full of sympathy. Magnus is stricken speechless for a second. But then, he shakes himself out of it. She's the wife of a good friend. Well, that's what Thomas turned into after Magnus realised that they didn't want the same from their relationship. But Thomas surely didn't marry a queerphobic woman. This must have been a generalised ‘them’.

“Well, Alec is an incredible man. He challenges me every single day. It's a gift to learn more about him and myself as we navigate our young relationship.”

“She was so beautiful on your wedding day,” the princess continues. “You should've kept her that way.”

Magnus instantly feels sick to his bones. How dare she?!

“He would be miserable all his life,” he says.

“It must be hard, though,” Thomas says.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You don't have to pretend, Magnus,” Thomas says. “Not with us.”

Magnus straightens to his full size. “There's no need to pretend. I love my husband. He is a wonderful man.”

“We're all just worried about you,” Sayana says. “We know you had to marry them after their stunt during the ritual. Idris really has the gift of offering poisoned apples.”

“Thinking that you have to be with that delusional woman,” Thomas says, shaking his head. “It breaks my heart.”

“It breaks my heart to see you betraying our trans siblings,” Magnus hisses, his throat tightening with the anger he can barely contain.

“Seeing you promoting mentally ill people is rather harrowing,” Thomas replies. “I know that Edom tries to look woke but—”

“People like us were called mentally ill once, too, Thomas,” Magnus says, looking at the other people in their small circle for support. But they all just look embarrassed.

Thomas purses his lips. “That's something completely different. We can't change how we desire.”

Magnus’ heart cracks. Thomas was so different when they first met. He danced the nights away with him in gay clubs, took him to his first drag show. He introduced him to a ménage à trois, for heaven's sake.

“It isn't,” Magnus says. “I can't…” No. He won't discuss this. Not on his birthday. Not ever. “If that's your opinion, I have to ask you to leave. I won't expose my husband to people who don't respect his identity. He's suffered enough due to transphobia and bigotry.”

“But Magnus,” Thomas protests.

“I think he asked you to leave,” Alec's voice comes firmly from behind. Magnus closes his eyes. How much of the conversation did he hear?

“You're destroying his life,” Thomas presses out.

“Get out!” Magnus orders, voice low and dangerous.

Sayana puts her hand on her husband's arm. “Thank you for your invitation, Magnus. We're here for you if you need anything.”

“I doubt that will ever be the case, Your Royal Highness,” Magnus says curtly. He takes Alec's hand and leads him away from the circle. No one called them out. No one stood by him, supporting him. No. They all stayed silent. Cowards!

Magnus grabs a flute of champagne and downs it in one go. He lets his eyes roam over the people who he calls friends and close acquaintances. How many of them think like that royal couple? How many of them see Alec as less? How many pity him for being married to Alec?

“Are you okay?” he asks when he manages to find an empty spot hidden behind a bush.

“Are you?” Alec asks. “You just kicked out friends of yours.”

“I'm not friends’ with people who are transphobic.”

Alec just laughs. It irritates Magnus to no end.

“You don't believe me,” he presses around the heart in his mouth.

“I believe that you believe that to be true,” Alec says, not unkindly. “But we're all transphobic to some level. And we do transphobic things without knowing. It's not always about the big, hate-filled words. The fact that I wish I was born cis is transphobic. The fact that you unconsciously treat my body as that of a woman is transphobic. That doesn't make either of us a raging transphobe. It only makes us someone who grew up in a world where being cis is seen as ‘normal’, and being trans is different at best and someone who isn't seen as a human being at worst.”

“I don't… I don't see you as a woman, and I'm not transphobic,” Magnus protests. Is that what Alec thinks? Is that why he hates sex?

“You are. And to an extent, that's okay. I know you're trying to be a good ally, to treat me right.”

Magnus thinks of the still unfinished book lying on his bedside table. He thought he was doing rather well. And now…

“But it's not good enough,” Magnus says, working his jaw.

“It's more than I ever expected to have. But… this is neither the time nor the place for such a conversation. This is your birthday, Magnus. You should dance and drink and enjoy spending time with your friends.”

Magnus breathes a sigh and nods. Not that he fully agrees. “Where were you?” he changes the subject.

Alec grins. “With the kids. Which reminds me: I owe them another round of Chutes and Ladders. If you'll excuse me,” he says, a question more likely.

“This really isn't your thing, is it? Parties, I mean,” Magnus asks.

Alec shrugs. “I wouldn't say so, but… Let's say, I don't like to be the centre of attention. All evening, conversations have died out when we approached a group standing together. And while you deserve all the stunned silences, looking as handsome as you do, especially tonight… I think I'm the topic of the evening. And I know I am responsible for this, turning up at our wedding as a bride. It must be confusing for those expecting a woman by your side tonight. I wish things were different, but they aren't. I think I can help the situation by making myself scarce, giving you the spotlight, so to speak. I am easy to forget.”

Magnus wants to protest, but he knows it's futile.

“You are my husband,” he breathes, tears pricking his eyes. “You belong at my side.”

“I will, if you really want me to. But this is your day, Magnus. You deserve that after everything I put you through.”

Magnus purses his lips in a last attempt not to let his sadness run wetly over his cheeks.

“What about what you deserve, Alexander?”

Alec gives him a lopsided smile. “I married the man of my dreams. I am more than good.”

“Are you sure?”

Alec cups his cheek. Magnus’ eyes close of their own accord at the touch. He wraps his hand around Alec's wrist, afraid he might let go too soon.

“I am proud of you, every second of the day. You know that, right?” Magnus asks, opening his eyes when Alec doesn't say anything. The surprise washing over Alec's face is a stab to Magnus’ heart. “I'd give you anything, just to make you happy.”

Alec's smile falters somewhat, his eyes speaking of disbelief. Maybe he knows that this isn't just an empty phrase for Magnus.

“You deserve no less,” Magnus insists.

“You neither,” Alec says and kisses him. “Now go to your friends and tell them how great I am,” he chuckles.

“I will,” Magnus says, well knowing that Alec's words were self-deprecating. “But I'll get a dance when the kids vanquish you,” he teases.

“And if I win?” Alec asks, grinning.

“You won't. You're way too much of a softie for that.”

“Says who?”

Magnus chuckles. “I'll see you on the dance floor, Prince Alexander.”

Alec smirks and presses another kiss to his lips before he moves through the hall. Magnus looks after him, his heart lighter and heavier at the same time. Determination runs through his veins. Time to find out who of his friends is worth their salt. By the end of the evening, he will have separated the wheat from the chaff.

Chapter Text

Alec can't help but grin. Giggling Magnus is a sight to behold. And he finally got him into the apartment, so there's that. It doesn't matter that he's already undressing himself, layer after layer of expensive clothing landing on the ground, creating an inviting trail from the entrance to the bedroom. Magnus only sways slightly as he walks backwards without bumping into anything. He's either not as drunk as Alec thinks or he's just very good at covering up the side effects. It's a cute spectacle either way.

Alec gets out of his clothes when they reach the bedroom, trying not to ogle Magnus’ body as he lands butt naked on the top sheet.

“You're just too pretty.” Magnus pouts, scanning Alec's torso with hooded eyes. Alec huffs a laugh.

“You think?”

“Mmh.”

Magnus is probably half-way to dreamland, the way he sounds. Alec contemplates putting on his pyjamas. They haven't slept naked since Paris. It would feel like an intrusion, but Magnus reaches out his slightly bumbling hand in a clear invitation to join him.

“And so hot,” he mumbles, his fingers brushing over Alec's thigh, the simple touch sending a bolt of electricity through his body. Alec gives himself a push and strips out of his boxers. He puts them on a chair, careful not to let his packer lie around openly. One never knows. He doesn't want to scare off the servants.

He slips under the blanket and somehow manages to manoeuvre Magnus under it. It's not a small feat. Magnus is all over him. Lips, hands, his arousal pressing shamelessly into Alec's body. No problem with alcohol induced erectile disfunction in sight. It's thrilling to elicit Magnus’ lust, much more so after going way too long without it.

“Magnus,” he breathes when his husband latches onto his neck. Fuck! He missed this.

“God, you smell so good,” Magnus speaks into his skin.

Alec huffs a laugh. “This is your shampoo, Magnus.”

“It smells different on you.”

Alec smiles, a moan falling from his lips when Magnus peppers his chest with kisses. Goosebumps bloom on his skin as need grows between his legs. He feels himself getting wet as Magnus’ hand wanders over his thigh, circling his knee, lips pressing around his belly button. Alec's stomach quivers in a strange mix of arousal and anxiety. What if Magnus won't accept his silence any longer? What if he wants to know, and it'll only make things worse?

Alec tries to relax. He wishes he'd had a few, too, to help with that, but the fertility doctor recommended refraining from alcohol. But hey, they did it before, and maybe with everything out in the open, it's gonna be better. It's a high note they can end the day on, a birthday gift only Alec can give him. Well…

Magnus’ mouth reaches his thankfully regrowing pubes. Alec holds his breath, waiting for the feeling of hot lips pulling his focus on the part of his body he usually masterfully ignores. But it never comes.

“Right,” Magnus mumbles into the space between them, resting his forehead on Alec's stomach for a long moment before he crawls up again and snuggles into Alec's side. Alec feels like he's having whiplash. He wasn't sure if he wanted it but with Magnus’ withdrawal, he's left reeling.

“Love you,” Magnus murmurs, his breath spreading over Alec's neck, evening out within a minute. Alec, on the other hand, is wide awake. Despite falling asleep, Magnus is still hard against his leg. Did he forget that he wouldn't find a cis penis down there? Was his intoxicated mind disappointed that he wouldn't get dick tonight?

Alec hates that he was right earlier. Magnus does see his body as that of an altered woman. He shouldn't be disappointed. At least, Magnus isn't repulsed by it. That should count for something, right?

Tell that to Alec's hurt feelings.

He takes a few deep breaths to slow his racing heart. This is ridiculous. Magnus just said it. He loves him. He's a lucky man. He should be more grateful.

Magnus smiles at his private stewardess and takes the glass of champagne to clink it together with Alec's.

“A surprise?” his husband asks. Magnus is proud of himself that he hasn't let anything slip. Not even at the breakfast table when he told Alec they would leave for an extended weekend. He was tempted to reveal his plans several times. Alec's mood has been a ride over the past two weeks. He didn't talk much, filled every spare time with extra work and studying Edom, his whole body too sensitive for going to the gym. Magnus asked him to rest, but Alec was as stubborn as ever. He probably didn't want to leave any time to think about what was happening to his body. Magnus could have punched a few walls on his behalf.

But the egg collection is now behind them, the anaesthetic out of Alec's system, and he finally got his first T shot since summer. He'll be back to his old self in no time. At least, that's what Magnus hopes.

It wasn't just Alec's physical struggles that kept him at a distance, Magnus fears. Alec has been irritated since the incident at the birthday party. Magnus tried to calm Alec's nerves, tried to dissipate his guilty conscience of having destroyed a decade-long friendship. Magnus told him that he didn't have to send away many people that night. He chose his friends well. And the few who were concerned – about Magnus marrying a stranger, not Alec being trans or a Shadowhunter – they could see how well they fit when Alec kept his word and danced with him. Magnus had struggled with tears of remorse, his heartless comment from their wedding dance ringing loudly in his ears. But then, Alec had kissed him, and Magnus decided to forgive himself given that Alec so clearly had.

“I think you deserve one,” Magnus smirks.

“One,” Alec huffs. “Not a day goes by… I thought you were exaggerating, but you are spoiling me. I gained so much weight,” he says, patting his stomach. Magnus doesn't say that he was in bitter need of gaining a few pounds. Alec might take it the wrong way.

“I think it suits you,” he says instead.

Alec quirks a smile. “Come on. Tell me the continent, at least,” he asks.

“Spoilers,” Magnus smirks. “I wanna see your face when you find out.”

“Okay,” Alec relents with an upcurl of his lips. Magnus doesn't think seeing him smile like that will ever grow old. Like a shy boy opening a birthday present, anticipation wrestling with joy and a pinch of anxiety. Well, he could do without the latter, but they have time to get there. He'd accept seeing less of Alec's frowny face in exchange for more of these tinted smiles.

Alec empties a bag of peanuts into his mouth. It hasn't escaped Magnus’ attention that he's eaten a lot all morning. Magnus is glad that Alec's appetite has returned. Or maybe he simply allows himself to indulge? Magnus is relieved either way.

“I gotta rest my eyes,” Alec says, crumpling up the package and throwing the ball into the trash bin standing somewhere behind Magnus.

“Good aim, Sir,” the stewardess praises.

“Thanks, Céline,” Alec chuckles and leans back into his aeroplane seat.

Magnus isn't surprised that he's tired. Alec started the day in the gym again. As if staying in bed with him was a chore. No! Magnus stops the beast of his insecurities from raising its ugly head. Alec is just trying to get a grip on his life, to reclaim his body in ways he is used to. It's good that he has the energy for it again.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” Magnus says and hands him a sleeping mask. Alec rolls his eyes at him. Right. The soldier in him still can sleep anywhere and anytime if need be. Magnus wishes he'd use that talent more, especially in the early morning hours. He hasn't woken up in Alec's arms for way too long. But New York will change that. No professional meetings, just the two of them and an early Christmas dinner in their temporary home. Magnus can't wait to see Alec's face when he realises he will see his siblings again.

Chapter Text

Alec taps his fingers against the window frame, trying his best to release some of the tension from his body in an inconspicuous way. Magnus has the uncanny talent of catching him off guard. He's probably one of five people in the world that Alec would let his guard down around, so it's likely a good thing. But Alec doesn't want to worry him. He wants some lightness, for once, even though he isn't really feeling it. But with guests around who can turn every place into a party, maybe they do have a chance to start of their trip on a light note.

New York. This is surreal. Being here after four long months, Alec feels like a fish out of water. Oh, how much has changed. Magnus said he was looking forward to discovering Alec's city. But is it still his? He was ripped out of it like a weed, roots and all. He hasn't fully connected to the new soil around him, and now, he's back in the city he knows like the back of his hand. How many hours did he wander around, lost, until he reached the point where he could be dropped off anywhere, capable of finding his way back to the Institute without assistance? Where other kids go to football practice in their spare time or have a nice day at the zoo, Alec had urban survival training. Jace and Isabelle, too. He never questioned it. It was part of being a Shadowhunter just as much as asking the queen for the cup of union, of finding a parabatai or teaching how to patrol to kids half his age.

He shakes his head. Nowadays, he's barely allowed to use an elevator by himself. He'll have to give their small security detail the exact places he wants to take Magnus to. Not that he would know where to start. Magnus surely doesn't want to go on a scavenger hunt through the city. Where does one even take a prince? Surely not to Taki's Diner. That's pretty much the only place Alec knows. Taki's and that burger joint in the East Village where his siblings took him whenever their parents were too busy to join them on his birthday.

The thought of his parents makes Alec's stomach clench. Alec stifles the kneejerk reaction. He wasn't angry back then, not even sad. What sense does it make to be dissapointed now? At least they won't join them tonight. But Izzy, Jace, Clary and Simon will. And he doesn't even have Christmas gifts for them. Because he didn't know that Magnus would be bringing him here. Because he has no bloody money of his own. He has an Edom bank credit card to call his now, but that's just pocket money by the grace of Magnus. Alec doesn't think he deserves it with all the money they've spent for the IVF preparations and cryo. Not that Magnus told him how much it cost, but it surely wasn't cheap.

Just like the hormone rod. Not that Magnus seems to be interested in chancing a pregnancy ever again. He said Alec should decide when Luke asked if he was interested in a long-term contraception method. It figures. They will probably never have sex again. Which is unfortunate, because Alec has been horny ever since he got his T shot. That's nothing new. New is the urge to do something about it, which is shit when your husband avoids everything too sexual.

Alec shakes the thought away. He has no one to blame but himself. This was too good to be true, and he messed it up.

So back to his sightseeing plans. The usual tourist spots will be on the menu, he supposes. Magnus knows by now how boring he is.

Times Square, the New York Public Library and its exhibitions, a walk through Central Park if there should be a break from the rain, a Broadway show… or would the Met be better? Magnus loves the opera. But Alec has never been there before, so maybe getting tickets is impossible anyway. He'll have to text Tessa about it. The weather might stay disappointing so a museum, maybe?

It would be nice to visit the Institute, but that's probably the last place Magnus wants to go. It's beautiful, though. He might like the architecture. But would that make up for the crowd of Shadowhunters buzzing around, some who might have fought against his their people? Hodge would surely want to say hi…

Alec sighs. He's so bad at this. All he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep, not face the world, preferably wrapped in Magnus' arms. It's the only time they are as near as Alec craves. It's his fault that time is cut short. He flees the bed every day, Magnus’ morning wood a stark reminder of what he can't have. No, worse. Of what he lost.

Oh, the irony of that. He's married to a man, and still, his sex life is as alive as the Dead Sea. He needs to get himself off soon or his mind will circle back to it, again and again. Fucking hormones!

“Do you like the view?” Magnus’ voice comes from the door. Alec pulls himself away from the window frame.

“Can't say I've ever seen Manhattan from this perspective,” Alec says, not taking his eyes off it. They might betray the chaos in his soul.

“It is impressive,” Magnus says, walking closer. Alec hums in agreement.

“Jet lag?” Magnus asks.

“No, I'm good. I just realised that I don't have anything for my siblings. My parents stopped giving gifts a while ago, but we kids… Well…we're no kids anymore.”

“I've taken the liberty of buying gifts, but if you wanna pick something on your own, there's still time to go shopping, Alexander.”

“Nah, your stuff is likely better than mine ever could be. I'm notoriously bad at it.”

Alec doesn't know why he's lying. That's simply not true, but he can't tell his husband that he's rather good at finding gifts when he still has no idea what to get him for Christmas with only a few days to spare. Magnus has everything and a delicate taste to boot.

Magnus’ hands land on his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscles. Alec lets out a ragged breath.

“You okay?” Magnus asks. “Oh, you seem stressed.”

“Yeah, just… I really need a hot shower.”

“Maybe a hot bath would do you good,” Magnus suggests. “Or a professional massage. I'm sure something can be arranged.” Alec hums noncommittally. He knows he wouldn't relax in the tub, much less under the touch of a stranger. If he had any illusions left about his marriage, he'd ask Magnus to join him, to make out under the warm spray or ask for a royal massage. He'd go down on his knees and worship Magnus’ body. But no. Magnus is too sober for any of that. Alec won't degrade himself by asking for it.

He walks into the bathroom, lathers himself up systematically, his body a foreign place once more. So much has happened to it. The hair is back but everything feels soft and squishy under his hands. Alec has returned to the unseeing look whenever he's naked.

When he's done cleaning himself, he leans his forehead against the cool tiles and tries to imagine what they'd do in the large cubicle if things were different. Screwing his eyes shut, he tries to get himself off to the memory of their honeymoon shenanigans. But the images seem to evade him, fleeting and surreal. Is he even allowed to think about Magnus that way? It's only altered memories, isn't it?

It doesn't feel right, so Alec tries to empty his head, searching for a way to make himself feel good. But he can't get rid of the itch, no matter how hard he tries.

After a few useless minutes, he switches the shower to cold until all he feels is the pinprick of icy water drops and the contractions of his muscles. He dwells in the comfort of the familiar pain. He's really fucked in the head. But what is new? He learnt to pay for his freedom with pain in this very city. There's poetry in it, he supposes.

His eyes fall on his still unpacked toiletries bag as he steps shivering out of the shower. Ah, fuck it. He has to get through this evening somehow. He'll need something to ground himself with his siblings’ happiness on display. He deserves a bit of release. And with his body too stupid to grant him an orgasm, this is the only thing he can do.

Chapter Text

“Looking good, big brother!” Isabelle exclaims and throws her arms around Alec, who chuckles in response, pulling her close. Magnus smiles at them as they hug for a long moment. Relief washes through him. After Alec's first restrained reaction of coming to New York, he's glad that meeting his siblings turned out to be positive news. Alec even shaved for the occasion. Magnus likes his beard but maybe this is a good sign. Alec doesn't feel like hiding anymore. Or maybe he feels more masculine now? Either way, it's progress.

“I missed you, man,” Jace says as he pulls his brother into a bear hug. Magnus tears his eyes away and greets the other guests, taking coats and indulging in a little small talk. He ushers everyone to the living room, busying himself with mixing cocktails. He watches Alec from the corner of his eye, his husband slowly relaxing into the sofa as they settle into an easy conversation about flights and weather.

“We took a connection via Amsterdam yesterday. God, it's good to be back,” Isabelle explains.

“Where were you staying?” Alec asks. Magnus pricks his ears. He's interested in that answer, too.

“Lightwood Estate,” Isabelle croaks.

Magnus freezes but Alec huffs a laugh.

“I have to apologise. I understand it now,” Isabelle says. “The house is a super-max.”

“What do you mean?” Clary asks. Magnus’ loyalties are swiftly shifting. Jace and her clearly didn't return to the scene of the crime.

“Ah, nothing,” Alec interjects. “How are Mom and Dad?”

Magnus nearly drops the martini in his hand. How can he be so nonchalant about it? They held him as a prisoner.

“Dad's back in L.A.,” Jace says.

“And Mom… She's busy with Clave business,” Isabelle replies.

“What's new?” Alec asks and downs half of his drink. “And Max?”

“Preparing for his parabatai ceremony,” Jace says, clearly gauging Alec's reaction.

“He chose someone?” Alec asks, eyes growing wide. “Who?”

Isabelle smiles. “Nicky.”

Alec chuckles. “Figures.”

“Who's Nicky?” Magnus asks, sitting down next to his husband.

“They've been friends since kindergarten,” Alec explains. “He's a little rascal. Just like Max. Funny, smart, calmer than him.”

“He's been keeping him out of trouble ever since his parents have been stationed in L.A.,” Jace explains.

“That's wonderful,” Magnus says. “When will the ceremony be held? We gotta free up our tour schedule.”

The following silent conversation between the siblings playing out before him makes Magnus’ stomach churn.

“What's wrong?” he asks, sensing he's just walked into a sand trap.

“That won't be necessary,” Alec says, downing the rest of his drink.

“Why?”

“Because only Shadowhunters can attend the ceremony.”

Oh.

“But there are surely exceptions.”

Isabelle shakes her head. “The invitations have already been sent.”

“And you're fine with that?” Magnus asks, piercing Isabelle with his eyes. She of all people loves to ignore tradition if it doesn't suit her.

“It doesn't matter what they think, Magnus. It's the rules,” Alec says.

“We talked about what I think about rules. There must be a way for you to attend one of the most important days in your brother's life.”

“Just leave it be. Please?” Alec asks. Magnus exhales slowly. He has no idea what happened between their handfasting and their wedding, but he knows that his parents broke Alec's spirits. If for good is still to be decided, but Magnus is more and more inclined to believe his love won't be enough to pull Alec out of it. He's tried to be patient with him, to give him space, but Alec is still so utterly drifting.

“You're gonna stay here for the holidays?” Alec asks.

“Yeah,” Simon replies, as usual just too willing to turn a conversation around. “I have family in Florida. I wanna introduce my future wife to my mother.”

“Future…?” Alec croaks.

Isabelle stretches out her hand to show off the engagement ring. “That's why we were in Idris. To get Dad's blessing.”

“Isn't that a tad fast?” Magnus can't help but ask. His friend never voiced any interest in marriage before.

“Why wait when you know you've met the one?” Simon smirks.

“Shadowhunters marry young,” Clary explains.

“I heard about that,” Magnus says. “Congratulations.” He raises his glass. “To love.”

“To love,” everyone joins him.

“Look at us, all getting married to mundanes,” Alec says, his voice sounding lighter.

“I'm not,” Jace protests. Magnus doesn't get what they're talking about.

“I grew up in New York, not the New York Institute,” Clary says. “I'm practically a mundane.”

“What's that?” Magnus asks.

“Everyone who isn't a Shadowhunter,” Isabelle laughs.

“So, foreigners.”

“It's more than that,” Clary says. “As a people, Idris folks are pretty full of themselves.”

“Hey,” her husband protests but a single cock of her eyebrow reins him in.

“She's not wrong,” Alec says. “As a nation, we… Shadowhunters have a superiority complex.”

Magnus holds his tongue for once. It hasn't escaped his attention that Alec refers less and less often to himself as a Shadowhunter. He doubts it is because he feels Edom now. His old people make it clear, again and again, that he isn't one of them anymore. It breaks Magnus’ heart.

“Just good that you mix and mingle now. We'll ground you back to reality,” Simon quips. Magnus is glad that his friend doesn't seem to realise that Alec hit rock bottom. Nobody in this room seems to pick up on it. Are they so used to seeing Alec miserable that they don't know the difference?

But this is neither the time nor the place to call them out. This is supposed to be nice, and Magnus is a good host.

“Speaking of reality—I think dinner is ready to be served,” he chirps.

“Good,” Jace chuckles. “I'm starving.”

“From what?” Alec asks, sounding teasing. “Don't say you finished all your reports.”

Clary snorts.

“No. You know how much I hate those. I got to teach the new recruits today. Flexing the old muscles.”

“It's impressive. I was allowed to watch,” Simon says.

“Things have changed since I left,” Alec states.

“You were always too rule-abiding, brother,” Jace says.

“Stop it,” Isabelle orders. “It has gotten him far, hasn't it?”

“I'm pretty sure Magnus prefers bad boys,” Jace quips.

Magnus can't help but laugh. “My wild days are over,” he states.

Alec gets up from the couch abruptly and walks towards the door. “You mentioned dinner?”

Magnus blinks at him before he rises himself. “You're right. Let's move the party to the dining room, shall we?”

“This suite is amazing,” Clary says as they walk over. “I never really thought about how rich people vacation. Do you plan on coming here more often?”

“If Alec wants to. In that case, we would look for a home away from home, though.”

“You'd buy property just because I might be homesick?” Alec asks, sounding flabbergasted.

“I have property all around the world, my love.”

“And why did we go to your friend's island then?”

“Because the press knows of most of them, darling. We needed privacy, didn't we?”

Alec nods. “You're right. The press caught us as soon as we were in a city.”

Magnus bites the inside of his cheek. As great as that worked in terms of public image, he still has a queasy conscience. His PR woman suggested doing the same here, but he rejected it. Public opinion isn't as important as Alec hopefully getting a bit of closure and solid ground under his feet.

“How is it to live in the public eye?” Clary asks.

Alec shrugs. That damn movement!

“It's not as public as you might think. Our private lives happen behind closed doors.”

“You don't go out?” Isabelle asks. Magnus can feel her eyes on him. He had promised her to show Alec the world, to wine and dine him in the best places that Edom and the surrounding countries have to offer. But with everything that has happened since their wedding, romantic outings weren't really high on his agenda.

He busies himself by pulling the chair out for Alec, a gesture that elicits a frown on his husband's forehead as the other men in the room do the same. Magnus swallows his frustration. Alec is wrong. He is not treating him as a woman.

“You know I'm a homebody,” Alec mumbles as he sits down.

“We were really busy,” Magnus says. “We just wanted to shut out the world whenever possible.” He doesn't say that they had to. Magnus doubts that anyone in the room has any idea what went down in the past few weeks. Alec would never burden his siblings with that knowledge. It makes Magnus wonder how much he is keeping from him.

“Don't want those pesky paparazzi catching you in flagrante delicto, huh?” Jace quips.

“Magnus knows how to avoid that,” Simon says. “The things I've seen…”

“Sheldon!” Magnus interrupts him, a warning laced into the teasing nickname.

“Don't worry, Magnus. Your secrets are safe with me,” Simon chuckles and motions to lock his lips and throw the key away.

Magnus laughs, glancing at Alec's reaction. He laughs, too. Magnus isn't sure if he's faking it. He hopes he isn't. Magnus lived life to the fullest in the past. With Alec, he can finally settle down.

“I have something from Mom for you,” Isabelle says and hands Alec a paper bag.

“For me?” he asks, loud laughter carrying over from the dining room.

“She thought you might wanna have it.”

Alec takes the bag with a frown and looks inside. He huffs a surprised laugh before he pulls out his old Christmas stocking.

“It'll be my first Christmas without them,” he says quietly.

“Yeah. Mine, too.”

Alec runs his fingers over his stitched name, the old one still visible by closer inspection. Isabelle always hated that she had to learn embroidery, but she had changed it as soon as Alec had come out to her.

“I miss you,” he says, tears pricking his eyes.

“I miss you, too. But… we plan on living in Edom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Mom and Dad have offered me the Lightwood Estate, but… That should have been yours.”

“You know that mundanes aren't allowed to own property in Idris.”

“Well, that's just one of the laws that need to be changed. Mom promised to fight for dual citizenship.”

“You know how slowly the Clave moves,” Alec says.

“I told her I'll live in sin until Idris does. I won't give up being a Shadowhunter.”

Alec quirks a smile. “I wish I hadn't had to. It's strange. As if I am a citizen of neither land.”

“You said Edom was very welcoming.”

“It is. It's me. But I'll adjust. I always do.”

“You will. And you and Magnus look really happy.”

Alec nods along. He presses his fingers into his thighs so as not to slip. Something must have shown on his face anyway.

“Or not?” Isabelle asks.

“Our marriage has had its bumps in the road, but… there's no annulment on the horizon anymore.”

Isabelle gapes at him. “Have you ever worried about that?”

Alec exhales slowly. “Let's say, I hope your in-laws don't like to play games as much as mine does.”

“Magnus would never,” Isabelle insists. “He's so clearly head over heels in love with you, Alec.”

“I've never fallen out of love with someone.”

Magnus’ loyalty will probably be Alec's saving grace in this marriage. Or there's a first time for everything.

“I hope, one day, I'll be the man worthy of his love,” he says.

“You already are, Alexander,” Magnus says from behind. Alec's head flips towards him, his heart hitting his mouth. It needs a long moment for him to process the words. He can't even reject the notion. It knocked all the air out of his lungs. After everything he put him through, after everything he took from him.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but dessert is served,” Magnus says

Alec smiles at him, the corners of his lips twitching nervously. “We'll be with you in a sec.”

Magnus nods and leaves.

Isabelle squeezes Alec's arm. “Don't be so hard on yourself.”

“That's easy for you to say.”

“I know. I still don't understand why you did what you did, but I am here if you wanna talk. About everything that weighs on your heart.”

Alec nods in acknowledgement. He's not sure if he ever will. All of this is too embarrassing.

He puts the stocking bag away and joins the others again. Magnus squeezes his knee under the table. Alec quirks a smile at him and laces his fingers between Magnus’. It feels good. It slows down his racing heart and mind.

Magnus beams at him in a way he hasn't done in a while. Maybe Isabelle is right. Maybe he should reach out to him. Maybe, he doesn't need to carry everything on his own.

Chapter Text

“This looks like a wonderful day you've got planned for us,” Magnus says. “Thank you, Alexander.”

Alec gives him a lopsided smile, his cheeks reddening a luscious pink as he takes a sip of the freshly brewed coffee.

“I've always dreamt of walking in Central Park,” Magnus continues. “It always looks so romantic in the movies.”

“It's prettier in spring,” Alec says, sounding apologetic. “Or when it's snowed.”

“I'll only have eyes for you, my love. I will barely notice the difference.”

Alec snorts a laugh. “The good thing is that it's above 18°F.”

“Yes. But why?” Magnus asks, intrigued.

“Because we can take a carriage ride.”

“Oh,” Magnus says, thinking of the last time they travelled like that. Alec seems to read his mind.

“We'll reclaim everything that was taken from us,” Alec says, quirking a smile. “I'm glad you're looking forward to our day out.”

Magnus nods. Alec has no idea how much he is. Yes, the time since their arrival has been nice, Alec relaxing more and more the older the night grew. They bid their guests goodbye around two and fell into bed and into each other's arms right after. And for once, Magnus was blessed with waking up in Alec's arms, too. It was nice. Morning cuddles are one of Magnus’ favourites. Not that he would tell his husband that. He doesn't want to impose. Magnus was called clingy and too much one too many times in his life to repeat that mistake with the one he will spend the rest of his life with. Alec either doesn't need it or is simply very disciplined with his workout routine.

The concierge sadly mentioned that the hotel has a communal workout room when they arrived. Up here in the suite, roughly as large as his apartment back in Edom, Magnus could forget that it even exists. But can Alec? Well, he'll see. Their schedule is full of nicer things than treadmills and dumbbells.

Magnus knows he's a hypocrite. He loves Alec's muscles, but he also loves that his body has grown softer. It's selfish. The oestrogen and other hormones surely were hard on Alec. Not that his husband would have ever complained. He's a brave soldier indeed.

But the Alec he met last summer is back. At least he peeks out, now and then, and if building up his muscles again helps stabilise him, to hell with morning cuddles.

“What are you thinking about?” Alec asks. Magnus huffs a laugh.

“Nothing and everything. I hope the weather holds,” he says, looking at the overcast, yet so-far dry city.

“The forecast said the rain will be back tomorrow, so I planned the outdoor activities for today. New York in December is a bit unpredictable,” Alec explains.

“Well, we'll make the most of it,” Magnus says and laces his fingers between Alec's. They smile at each other as they finish their breakfast. Yes. It was a good idea to come here.

“A massage,” Alec says evenly.

“You must have gotten massages as an athlete,” Magnus says as he leads him into the dimly lit living room.

“Yes, but this is…” Alec trails off as he looks at the wooden massage table standing where the sofa was and the strange metal construction standing to the side.

“You planned this wonderful day for us. I wanted to give you something special, too,” Magnus says.

The day had been special indeed. Magnus looked so happy, and Alec felt like back in the lake, their bodies and souls wrapping around one another, butterflies tickling his insides so often, he didn't feel like eating much when they made it to dinner time. He doesn't think he's ever kissed Magnus as much as today. He wouldn't mind if a paparazzo caught a picture of that. They must have looked like love-drunken fools. Alec didn't care for once. This is probably what their honeymoon should have been like. Maybe it's just Magnus stroking his ego, allowing him to shine with knowledge and anecdotes for once.

They didn't touch any sore points, which is a relief of sorts. Maybe they can just be in a bubble of their own for a while. But this here? This looks intimidating. The co-opted living room smells delicious, like Magnus’ shampoo and something else Alec can't quite put the finger on. Maybe it's the massage oil warming in a water bath to the side or the incense sticks. Maybe it's neither. Maybe it's not a scent but the presence of the two men standing to the side, smiling gently at him, forcing Alec to stop in his tracks.

“This doesn't look like the massages I'm used to,” he says, trying not to sound ungrateful. He just thought after their nice dinner they would cuddle up in bed, maybe even make out a little. He knows it's too much to hope for more. They haven't done anything under their clothes for a long while. Maybe knowing that Alec is aware that Magnus sees and treats his body as that of a woman makes it impossible, or the truth has sunk in that Alec can't be in bed what Magnus truly craves. But kisses are nice and cuddles have to suffice to sate Alec's hunger for intimacy. This is so much more than he thought he'd ever have.

“I doubt you got abhyangas from your massage therapist, huh?” Magnus smirks.

“Abhyangas?” Alec asks, frowning at the set up.

“It's an Ayurvedic massage,” Magnus explains. “It's my absolute favourite. Imagine two wonderful therapists,” Magnus says, gesturing towards the two men just waiting to start their job. “They work in perfect sync, using warm herbal oils that just melt away all your stress. They use these amazing long, flowing strokes that cover you from head to toe, and it's not just a massage – it's like they're balancing your entire energy. But the best part is the Shirodhara treatment afterwards. Picture this: you're lying down, eyes covered, and they start pouring this perfectly warm herbal oil in a gentle stream right onto your forehead. It's like a meditation, but someone else is doing all the work. The oil just flows and flows, and slowly, all those racing thoughts just... disappear. It's supposed to be amazing for stress, sleep issues, and just overall mental calm. The whole experience is like a love letter to your body and mind – rejuvenating and absolutely magical!”

Alec's eyes flicker towards the wooden massage bench, the raised edge and floor protection making more sense now. He swallows hard, imagining it.

“The whole body?” he croaks.

“Yes. It's very sensual,” Magnus says, beaming with excitement. Sensual. Well, that doesn't make it any better.

“Magnus,” Alec starts but trails off. This is such a nice surprise. But…

“Give it a try, huh? For me,” Magnus asks, an understanding smile on his lips. His kind eyes bore into Alec as if they could see deep into his soul.

Alec wets his lips. His eyes fix on the fresh bathrobe lying on the massage table. It looks as if it would cover his thighs enough to hide the cuts from Magnus’ sight before he can change into his pyjama bottoms. The massage therapists surely won't rat him out, so…

“What's this?” he asks, walking closer, inspecting the strange package lying on top of the bathrobe.

Magnus chuckles warmly. “A string tanga.”

“String tanga… L–like in women's underwear?” Alec stutters, his pulse taking up a beat.

“No, darling. String tangas can be worn by anybody. This one is made for men, see?” Magnus asks, pointing out the extra fabric that has enough space to hug everyone's crown jewels.

“Can't I wear my shorts?” Alec asks.

“No. Deepak and Kamal need to have free access to your lovely butt and hips. Also, they would be ruined by the oil. You'll forget about it in no time. I promise.”

Alec takes the disposable string tanga out of the package, studying it with widening eyes. No way! He can't do this.

“Magnus, I can't.”

“Why not?”

Alec doesn't know how to voice this with the other men in the room so he grabs Magnus’ hand and drags him out into the hallway with an apologetic smile in their direction.

“What is it, Alexander?” Magnus asks.

“This thing won't keep my packer in place. You know how cursed it is.”

Magnus’ mouth falls into a silent O. The sight gives Alec a little stab. He doesn't want Magnus to think of his transness all the time. He loathes the sight of that damn book on Magnus’ bedside table. But that his husband sometimes forgets about it when it's crucial to consider hurts just the same.

“Then leave it in the bathroom,” Magnus replies, clearly not understanding.

“Then they'll know.”

“They are professionals, Alexander.”

Alec grunts quietly in frustration. “Did you check if they're trans inclusive?”

Magnus gapes at him. “I… My assistant made the arrangements. I… I don't know,” Magnus splutters. “Shoot!”

Alec runs his hand over Magnus’ arm, hoping to soothe his obvious distress. With everyone around them usually being paid by or otherwise dependent on Magnus, this hasn't been much of an issue so far. It's a reality check.

“I will ask them,” Magnus says, already turning.

“No,” Alec decides. “We won't risk destroying a beautiful day. You'll get the massage. It sounds amazing.”

“But—”

“No but. It was a wonderful idea, Magnus. Thank you.” Alec presses the string tanga into Magnus’ hand.

“I can send them away,” Magnus protests.

“It would be a waste of money. I can entertain myself for a few minutes.”

“It's 90 minutes to two hours plus resting after.”

Alec's lips twitch nervously. That's a long time for two very handsome men touching his husband's body. He tries not to linger on that mental image.

“You better get going then,” he manages.

“I will make sure to check next time,” Magnus says, clearly chagrined. Alec nods. Once again, he's being difficult. But Magnus will learn to work around stuff like this. It will get easier over time.

Alec squeezes Magnus’ hand and places a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Enjoy!” he says.

“Promise me something?” Magnus says, stopping him from pulling away. Alec nods. Magnus smiles at him. “Do something relaxing, too. There are bath salts in my toiletries bag…”

“Okay,” Alec says. Maybe, a good soak will wash away the uneasy feeling in his body.

“Okay,” Magnus seals their agreement with a kiss. Alec watches him walk back into the living room and disappear behind a folding-screen before the door closes. Alec takes a deep breath trying his best to calm the clenching of his stomach. These men are professionals. And Magnus wants them to touch him. No biggie. Alec is jealous, that's all. He'll get over himself. Magnus deserves everything good.

Chapter Text

Magnus peels himself off the massage table a little earlier than he usually would. He feels deeply relaxed, but he's pretty sure Alec is waiting for him, reading on their bed. He never falls asleep before him, even on the longest of days. It's a nice gesture, and Magnus doesn't want to make him wait any longer.

It had taken him a while to fully relax despite Deepak and Kamal's best efforts. No one can massage away remorse and guilt. How could he not take into account Alec's circumstances? The only defence that he can bring up is that it was a spur of the moment thing, quickly typed into his phone while Alec got them a coffee. But still.

Magnus thanks the masseurs, making sure to tip them properly before he walks over to their bedroom. He finds it empty. So is the en-suite, the bathwater left in the tub cool to the touch.

“Where is my husband?” he asks Helen, who guarded them during the massage.

“He went to the gym.”

Magnus sighs. Of course, Alec did.

“Could you let him know that I'm finished? We'll retire for the night when they're gone,” Magnus says, gesturing towards the living room.

“Of course, Sir,” she replies, asking her colleague who went with Alec to do so. “He'll tell him,” she relates just for her face to glitch a few seconds later. “Could you please repeat that?” she says, the tone of her voice making Magnus stop and turn around.

“Check the surveillance cameras,” she orders.

“What's wrong?” Magnus asks.

“Alec… His Royal Highness isn't in the gym, Sir.”

“You lost my husband?”

Helen twists her mouth and wakes the other bodyguards from their well-deserved sleep. Real-time monitoring of a nice day out is a hard job. Magnus knows that. Not that he cares about their tiredness much right now.

“There are only two doors in the gym,” Helen explains when she returns. “The entrance was guarded by my colleague. He's very diligent.”

“And the other door?”

“Fire exit. It can only be opened from the inside. Alec must have left on his own.”

“Without telling anyone?”

Helen quirks a nervous smile. “I'm not sure if you know that, Sir, but he's a trained guard himself. He's going to be okay. Could you try calling him?”

Magnus nods and hurries to the bedroom but he stops in his tracks when he sees Alec's phone abandoned on the bedside table. He looks out into the night, raindrops leaving trails on the window glass. He's trying his best not to panic.

“Where are you?” he asks, his heart tightening in his chest.

“Could you reach him?” Helen asks from the door.

“He didn't take his phone,” Magnus whispers.

“We'll find him, Sir. He's probably just out to get a drink or something.”

Magnus nods despite knowing that Alec isn't the type who goes out for a fun night. But who knows? Maybe tonight triggered something. Maybe he ruined a perfect day, after all.

It feels so good, the pavement under his feet, the familiar streets flying by. Even the noises and scents are calming. Alec never realised how much of a New Yorker he was until this very moment. He runs and runs. No treadmill in the world can rival this. Yes, he has to wait at stop lights, but it gives him time to breathe, to exhale that ugly feeling swirling through his body.

He just had to get out of the apartment, needed to feel normal again. He couldn't relax in the bathtub. He couldn't concentrate on one of the books Magnus recommended to him. The weights in the gym didn't look appealing, either. He just wanted to catch a breath of fresh air. He didn't think of the fire door falling shut behind him. But once he was on the ground, the city was calling. Freedom, more likely. He only wanted to do a quick jog around the block. Alec laughs at himself as he looks across the park. Of course his unthinking mind carried him home to the Institute.

He brushes away the sweat on his forehead and walks over the lawn in front of it. The familiar stairs look so inviting. He could do with a sip of water anyway. He knocks at the door, well knowing that a guard stands behind it.

“Hi, Raj,” he greets when the door swings open. His old colleague just nods curtly.

“Is my brother in?” he asks. Raj crosses his arms over his chest and blocks the entrance.

“No.”

“Clary?”

Raj shakes his head. Alec never liked the man. He's such an ass.

“Can I use the bathroom real quick?”

“You're not authorised to enter the Institute,” Raj says. Alec takes a deep breath. Of course, he isn't.

“This was my home for most of my life,” he still protests. “I was acting head.”

“Mundanes only get access authorised by the head of the Institute or the head of security,” Raj says.

“What's going on here?” a familiar voice asks. Alec exhales in relief.

“Andrew!” he calls over.

“Alec. What a surprise! Raj, show a little respect.”

Raj scoffs.

“He is the Prince of Edom. Did you sleep through your diplomacy lessons at the academy? — Come in. Are you alone?” Andrew asks.

“Yes. I went for a run and ended up here.”

Andrew gives him a surprised look but beckons him to follow him inside.

“What brings you to New York? Official business?”

“No,” Alec huffs. “Magnus asked me to show him around. A short breather before the holidays.”

“That's nice. If you came to see Jace, he's in a meeting.”

“I saw him yesterday. No, I just ended up here.”

“Is everything alright?” Andrew asks.

Alec nods. Andrew might be someone he can open up to, but the walls surely have ears. He's already created enough rumours and gossip.

“Magnus is getting a massage, and I…” he trails off, stopping in his tracks as they reach the training hall closest to the entrance. How many hours did he spend in there?

“God, I miss sparring. The gym is all well and good but…”

Andrew chuckles. “Wanna show me what you've got?”

“You surely have better things to do.”

“Than sparring with a prince?” Andrew quips.

“Don't… I'm still Alec.”

“I know. Sorry. My offer still stands.”

Alec purses his lips, the giddy feeling of anticipation tickling under his skin.

“Okay,” he says, already unzipping his hoodie. Andrew's face breaks out into a grin.

“My oh my, what do we have here?” Jace asks, his voice teasing. Alec can't see his face. He's busy trying to break out of Andrew's hammerlock. Sadly, Andrew lets go of him as he hears his boss before Alec can prove to himself that he is still capable of that.

“You're a sight for sore eyes, brother,” Jace says, walking towards them.

“The Clave?” Alec guesses.

Jace sighs. “You know how my grandmother is.”

Alec clicks his tongue in sympathy and embraces his brother.

“You worked up quite a sweat. Still energy for another round?” Jace asks.

“With you? Always,” Alec says, chuckling when Jace's phone goes off. Jace sighs and rolls his eyes. He fishes the phone out of the pocket of his jeans and frowns at the number.

“Yeah?” he picks up. “Oh, hi, Magnus. Are you missing your husband already?”

Alec watches Jace's eyes grow wide as he listens to his brother-in-law. “He's here with me. At the Institute. — Yeah he's fine. — Okay. — Sure. — Copy that,” he says and hangs up. “You came here without a security detail? Are you insane?!” he all but yells at him. Alec takes a step back.

“I… I didn't plan… I locked myself out and… I lost track of... What did Magnus sound like?”

“Worried and then relieved. What were you thinking, Alec? You can't just run around on your own anymore.”

Alec works his jaw. He knows Jace is right. He had forgotten what it's like to be free, without a shadow constantly connected to him wherever he goes.

“I should go,” he says. He has to apologise to Magnus.

“You stay put until your bodyguard is here,” Jace says. “Andrew,” he adds, giving him a stern look.

“I'll be waiting for them at the front entrance. It was nice seeing you, Alec.”

“Thanks for the training. I needed that,” Alec says.

“You're welcome,” Andrew replies and walks out.

“I don't need a bodyguard. I was a bodyguard, for heaven's sake,” Alec says when Jace turns his angry gaze back at him.

“You learnt how to sacrifice yourself for others, that's hardly the same,” Jace hisses.

“I can defend myself against a mugger.”

“This isn't about a thief on the streets, Alec. There are people out there, maybe even in these walls who'd love to hurt you because of who you've become.”

Alec swallows hard. “These people also exist in Magnus’ palace, and I'm free to roam there.”

“This is New York, Alec, not a fucking palace with screened staff. This… Does your life mean so little to you? Your face has made headlines.”

“New Yorkers mind their own business.”

“Luckily they do,” Helen says.

“That was quick,” Alec mumbles.

“I had an inkling that you'd come here,” she says.

“How is Magnus?” Alec asks.

“Outwardly, he stayed calm.”

Alec nods and throws his hoodie on. “See you,” he murmurs in Jace's direction. He needs to fix what he has broken. Again. He's a fucking idiot!

The drive back to the hotel doesn't take long. Helen escorts him to the apartment suite. She gives him an encouraging smile. Alec closes the door behind him and listens for a sound from his husband.

“Magnus?” he calls.

“Living room,” comes the answer. Alec can't read the tone of his voice. He finds Magnus standing at the window, a tumbler in hand.

“I'm sorry,” Alec says to his back. Magnus huffs a mirthless laugh.

“I didn't mean to worry you.”

“What did you mean to do then?” Magnus asks, still not turning. Alec exhales slowly to centre himself.

“I wanted to get fresh air, and the fire exit door fell shut. I just wanted to do a lap around the block but then… I guess my brain went on autopilot. I meant to be back before your massage was done.”

Magnus finally turns around, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. “You can't run around New York without anyone knowing where you are. What would you tell a client if he pulled such a stunt?”

Alec swallows hard. “That he was reckless and foolish.”

Magnus nods, pursing his lips. “Before tonight, I didn't think you were either.”

Alec's head falls, shame washing over him. He has nothing to argue against that.

“Why would you even go for a run at this time of the day? I told you to relax,” Magnus asks.

Alec huffs a laugh. “As if I could, knowing that…” he trails off. He won't add insult to injury.

“Knowing what?” Magnus probes, his eyes piercing.

Alec shakes his head. “Please, just leave it be. I'm going to ruin everything, no matter what I say.”

Magnus strides across the room, grabbing his chin, pushing it up until Alec meets his eyes.

“The truth,” he croaks. “Tell me the truth.”

“The truth?” Alec huffs. “The truth is I was jealous of the men who were allowed to touch you.”

Magnus lets go of his chin and takes a step back.

“Jealous? Why would you be jealous?”

“I dunno,” Alec presses out. “Maybe because I'd like to touch my own husband like that but I haven't even seen him naked in weeks? You kiss me by day and hold me at night, but you… I get it. I really do. I made a mess of things. I know that. I hoped we'd get over it. I thought that if you saw how much I'm trying that you might forgive me and start desiring me again. But… Was today for the paparazzi? Do you hold me at night because you're afraid I would jump out of my window if you don't?”

“Alexander,” Magnus presses out.

“I can't do this anymore,” Alec says, gasping for air. His chest feels so tight all of a sudden.

“What?” Magnus asks, his fist curling into the fabric of Alec's sweaty hoodie.

“Having you so close with this… this chasm between us. Tell me what I can do to fix this. Please,” Alec begs.

“Alexander, today was about reconnecting, about enjoying ourselves after everything. And I hold you at night because this is what you seem to be comfortable with. Maybe because we did that before… the island happened.”

“Before we had sex,” Alec states.

“I wouldn't call it that.”

Alec nods in defeat. He should have known that Magnus only humoured him back then. He was a frigging virgin and Magnus had threesomes, fucked people who knew what to do.

“Sex needs consent,” Magnus continues, “and I didn't have yours. You were coerced into it, and I… I know about many bad things my father has done, but… I will never forgive him for that or myself for not realising how much I hurt you.”

Alec blinks at Magnus, thoughts all jumbled in his head. “You didn't… You had my full consent,” he presses out.

“It's not truly consent if you hate every second of it.”

“I didn't,” Alec protests.

“I saw it on your face, the night you told me you were pregnant. Don't lie to me, Alexander. It's hard enough as is.”

“I didn't hate everything. I loved touching you, making you feel good. You thought I… Fuck! Magnus. I'm telling the truth.”

Magnus looks at him, tears streaming over his face. It breaks Alec's heart. He got it all wrong, didn't he?

“Magnus,” he whispers, cupping his husband's cheeks with gentle fingers, hope swelling in his chest when Magnus leans into the touch. He places a kiss on his lips before he rests his forehead against Magnus’. “Do you want me still?”

“I've always wanted you,” Magnus replies equally quietly. A relieved sob falls from Alec's lips.

“I guess that makes both of us fools then,” Alec says.

Magnus chuckles wetly. “I suppose.”

“I am so sorry. I… I didn't realise you thought you'd…” Alec trails off. He can't even speak it out loud.

“So… you didn't run away from me tonight?” Magnus asks, sounding breathless. Alec pulls back to look at him.

“No,” he says firmly. “I wouldn't have put myself through all of this if it weren't for my desire to be with you.”

Magnus’ lips finally curl into a cautious smile. “I wish you didn't have to go through any of it, Alexander.”

“I know. But… Can we start over again? Or did I blow it for good?”

Magnus shakes his head, but Alec doesn't allow his heart to sink. He's gone down that path one too many times.

“If I've learnt one thing in my life, my love,” Magnus says, smiling at him through tears, “then it is that it's never too late to start over again.”

Chapter Text

Magnus wakes up to an empty bed. He closes his eyes again, resigning himself to his fate when his fingers brush over warm linen and a cold piece of paper. He frowns at it and takes a closer look with still sleep-dry eyes.

“You're awake,” comes from the door before Magnus can decipher the quickly scribbled note.

“Just woke up,” Magnus mumbles, the corners of his lips curling up of their own accord.

“I hoped I'd be done before you woke up. Sorry,” Alec says. “But I left a note.”

Magnus finally manages to get him into focus. “Breakfast in bed?” he guesses as he sits up against the headboard.

Alec kicks the bedroom door closed and puts a tray with bagels, coffee, and other things on the foot of the bed.

“I thought our conversation might be a bit more delicate than usual, and as much as I love the attentiveness of your servants, I don't want prying ears,” he says, blushing as he hovers just out of reach.

“That was very considerate of you. Just like leaving a note,” Magnus says, warmth swirling through his stomach. Alec knew he would start spiralling. He knew and took care of stopping it at its seed. It should worry Magnus that he's so needy again that his husband has to manage his emotions, but it feels good to see Alec consider his side of it, nonetheless.

“I didn't want you to think I was gone again,” Alec confirms his thoughts. Alec seems to understand that last night's reactions weren't just a question of concern regarding his safety. Magnus feared he might have lost him. It was probably just his insecurities whispering doubt into his ear. As much as Magnus tries to cover it up—he's been left behind so often, and this time, Magnus wouldn't even blame his partner. Alec has been through so much, before and especially after meeting him. He would have every right to turn around and walk away. But there was something in Alec's eyes last night, a determination that spoke of more than duty.

How often have they used the word ‘love’ and it felt more like a phrase than a declaration? But not last night. Not spoken through tears, sealed with salty kisses. Something's shifted between them. Magnus just hopes it isn't wishful thinking on his part.

“For a second, I thought you were,” he shares honestly.

Alec nods, pinching the flesh next to his thumb. Magnus can't bear the sight and reaches out his hand to beckon him to bed. Alec catapults forward as if he had been just waiting for it.

“Heidi got the bagels but I prepared breakfast,” he explains.

“New York bagels and cream cheese,” Magnus smirks. He loves the unsophisticatedness of his husband.

“There's lox, too, and hummus.”

Magnus chuckles. “You're spoiling me, Alexander.”

“There's not enough spoil in the world to make up for what I put you through.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “Didn't we agree on starting over again?” he asks, trying to sound gentle. Alec doesn't need more guilt heaped onto the mountain that has built up all his life. For once, Magnus wants him to experience that forgiveness is a normal part of a relationship. Everyone makes mistakes. He's done his fair share, too.

“I just…” Alec starts but trails off.

“Put the tray on the dresser and let us be close for a moment,” Magnus suggests.

Alec's lips twitch nervously, eyes flickering over the bedspread before he follows the proposal. He breathes a quiet sigh when he glides into Magnus’ arms, smiling bashfully. He looks so young like that, so innocent. Magnus caresses his cheek and places a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Good morning, my love,” he says quietly into the space between them.

Alec huffs a laugh. “Good morning, babe,” he replies, his eyes widening right after. Magnus cocks an amused eyebrow, butterflies storming his stomach. He's never been anybody's babe.

“Is that okay?” Alec asks. Magnus nods, a smile tugging on his lips. “I don't know where that came from,” Alec chuckles.

“I think it suits both of us—me as the addressee and you as the one saying it,” Magnus says to wipe away the smitch of uncertainty that slowly creases Alec's face.

“I love what you call me. Makes me feel special,” Alec croaks.

“Well, you are special, my love. You deserve to feel it, Alexander.”

Alec closes his eyes, cuddling closer as his lips catch Magnus with surprising heat. There's so much urgency in him, it seeps out of him through every pore. Magnus gets swept away, lets Alec roll him on his back, his delicious weight grounding and freeing all at once. Magnus melts into the mattress, hands and lips pinning him down. He's a goner. Alec is just too perfect, touching him just right. There's a delicacy to it, a tenderness that could bring Magnus to tears. It's an apology, he realises way too late, Alec's hand already sneaking under the waistband of Magnus’ pyjama bottoms.

“Not yet, love,” Magnus says. Alec stops the movement immediately.

“You don't wanna?” Alec asks.

“I want us to talk. I need us to talk.”

Alec nods, the warmth of his hand disappearing, leaving goosebumps behind.

“I just think we shouldn't get all hot and bothered while the coffee grows cold,” Magnus says, hoping to swing the balancing act on this tipping point into a good direction.

“Right,” Alec says and turns away to get up. The sight of his slumped shoulders makes Magnus’ heart ache. He fishes for words to reassure his husband as he stands there, the handles of the tray in his hands. He opens his mouth to drown out the silence growing between them, but Alec beats him to it.

“This… this isn't about my body, is it?” he asks, voice brittle.

“What do you mean?” Magnus asks, sitting up, alarmed by the tone of Alec's voice.

“I… You got hard,” Alec states.

“I did,” Magnus says. Did that make Alec uncomfortable? No. That doesn't make any sense, does it? Or did he feel pressured to act on Magnus’ arousal?

“I know I can't give you what you want but… I can make you feel good in other ways,” Alec says. Magnus stares at the back of his head, his mind running a hundred miles a minute.

“What do you mean you can't give me what I want?” he asks, grateful that Alec is trying his best to communicate, not to swallow his worries and deal with them on his own. Still, Magnus has no clue what he is talking about.

“You're a bottom,” Alec states. “And I don't really have the equipment…”

Magnus’ mouth grows slack. That is what he's worried about?

“Sex is more than penetration, Alexander. And if you wanted to try… there would be ways.”

Alec turns around, eyes glittering suspiciously. “You know my junk. It's not big enough. You'd barely feel it.”

Magnus gets up and closes the space between them. This isn't a conversation to be had across the room. He puts his hands on Alec's hips, nudging his nose with the tip of his own.

“I'd be very happy to explore what our bodies are capable of doing together, on their own and with the help of toys and appendixes… I didn't stop you because I don't think you can give me pleasure. I know you can. I stopped you because sex tends to have the effect of covering up things that should be discussed first. I want us to talk, to lay the groundwork for good and open conversations in the future, in- and outside the bedroom.”

Alec lets out a ragged breath but doesn't say a word.

“I love your body. I want you,” Magnus continues. “I just want to do it right this time, okay?”

“Yeah,” Alec replies but he still feels tense in Magnus’ arms.

“What is it?” Magnus asks.

“Nothing.”

Magnus tries his best to keep his frustration at bay. Alec was brave to ask that question. Maybe, he just needs a bit of patience and a tiny nudge to open up even more.

“I don't think it's nothing,” Magnus probes. Alec wets his lips, a distracting little movement.

“You're right. I meant it's nothing for you to worry about.”

Magnus hums in appreciation. “Wanna share it with me anyway?”

“I don't want you to think I'm trying to pressure you into things.”

“I won't. Spill.”

Alec huffs a nervous laugh. “I'm just… really horny. It's the T shot. Don't worry about it.”

Magnus would be lying if he were to pretend that the confession doesn't do things to him. And leaving a partner unsatisfied truly isn't his style but under the circumstances…

“I see,” he says, racking his brain for a solution but coming up with nothing.

“Can I…?” Alec trails off, his head growing red as a beet.

Magnus smiles at him encouragingly. “Go on,” he pushes gently.

“I… I tried to get myself off in the shower the other day, but all I could think about was you and I... I wasn't sure if that was okay, so I stopped.”

Magnus can't help but beam at him. It's vain and obnoxious, but it's exciting, too. Alec desires him. Despite everything. Or is it because he's had no other experiences, no other reference points? Magnus pushes that thought away and focuses on the unspoken question. He wants to whisper filthy things into Alec's ear but he refrains from it. Unclear boundaries and all that. It sucks to have to hold back.

“It's okay to think of me,” he settles on, “if that's what turns you on.”

Alec nods, that lopsided smile flooding Magnus with want and relief. He knows he's doing the right thing. But hell, he wishes he wasn't striving to be a better man right now.

“Bagels?” he asks. Breakfast in bed seems the best solution to cool down while being close.

Alec chuckles. “Yeah. Bagels, and the worst scrambled eggs of your whole life.”

Magnus throws his head back, laughing. He'll eat them as if they were cooked by a five star chef. The ingredient of love will make up for the dryness and way too little salt.

Chapter Text

“It's gorgeous,” Magnus exclaims, eyes roaming over the rich interior. Alec chuckles. He thought Magnus would like it here. The name usually makes people expect stuffy rooms and boredom, but the New York Public Library is anything but that.

“It's my favourite place outside of the Institute,” Alec says.

“I can see why. And I thought our Royal Library was beautiful.”

“You should take me there some time,” Alec says, his fingers tightening in Magnus’ hand.

“I will.” Magnus outright beams at him. Will he ever get used to this? To Magnus’ loving attention? Alec isn't sure if that's even possible.

“Did you come here for the books or the ambience?” Magnus asks.

“The books,” Alec laughs. “Although Izzy used to joke that I would marry here some day, as long hours as I spent here sometimes.”

Magnus scans their surroundings clearly with new eyes, nodding. “I can see that. It's a beautiful location.”

“Wouldn't have happened. My family isn't that rich. Besides, Shadowhunters either marry back home or in one of the Institutes.”

“How romantic,” Magnus scoffs.

“They are usually beautiful old buildings. The New York Institute is a deconsecrated gothic cathedral. I'm sure you'd love it.”

Magnus squeezes his hand and gives him a warm smile. They haven't talked about why Magnus didn’t have plans to go there as curious as he is about Alec's past. It would likely be a security nightmare. Jace wasn't wrong. Not all of his people are happy with Idris and Edom making peace. But would anyone truly dare to attack the prince on foreign soil? Alec certainly hopes not, but maybe it's better that no one knows Magnus is here. No paparazzi have put the bloodhounds on their trail so far. The likelihood of people recognising them is low, especially the way Magnus decided to dress today. Alec had to do a double take. Magnus in a baseball cap, black jeans and a leather jacket wasn't on his bingo card, but here they are.

“I'm sure I would,” Magnus says, an olive branch likely. Maybe another time, when the waves have calmed. This is all very new, even though it feels like forever already. But that's more of a subjective perception. So much has happened in his private life. The world only had a few weeks to process the beginning of a new era.

“It was so good being back,” Alec says. “To spar. I think I felt like myself for the first time in a long time.”

Magnus’ face falls for a short moment before his lips pull into an understanding, sympathetic smile.

“I'm so sorry,” he says. Alec shakes his head. He's a member of the Edom royal family now. This trip was simply a fleeting visit to his past. He's not a Shadowhunter anymore. His future fights will be very different from what he struggled with before he met Magnus.

“We should get going. The show won't wait for us,” Alec says, unwilling to let his sadness claim the moment. They have a lot of ground to cover and an early dinner planned before going to the theatre. They'll fly back the next morning. This was way too little time. But maybe it's for the better. Alec won't miss New York as much when they're back in their rut.

“That was more fun than I expected it to be,” Alec says as they step into the suite.

“I can't believe you'd never seen a Broadway show before,” Magnus says. Alec shrugs. He guesses Magnus will drag him to theatres all around the world now. Not that Alec would complain. The actors were amazing, and their voices…

“I saw Shakespeare when I was in tenth grade. My mother was more of a ballet fan. She took us girls…” Alec winces. He's been out for so long and still, he sometimes manages to misgender himself when he talks about himself in the past. “Izzy and me,” he corrects himself, “to performances. Have you ever been to Stuttgart?”

Magnus shakes his head.

“It's not too far of a drive from the Lightwood Estate. But tonight was way different.”

“Broadway is amazing. If I lived in this town, I'd go see a show every week.”

Alec chuckles. He never gave it a second thought. Growing up in the Institute, he knew there was nothing waiting for him outside of those walls. Or so he thought. He only dipped his toe in everyday New York life when he started uni. It's a shame, really. But hindsight is always 20/20.

“I can't quite imagine you living here,” Alec says. It's a nice thought though. Not necessarily in Manhattan. But the way Magnus would enjoy the city… Money makes the world go round, after all.

Magnus hums in response, allowing Alec to take his coat.

“Would you like to return more often?” he asks.

“I don't know if that would be good. My life, my future is in Edom now.”

“You can still be homesick, Alexander. I'd understand.”

The corner of Alec's lips twitches. Magnus is just too sweet.

“I'm good, babe,” he says, grinning to himself as he puts Magnus’ coat on a hanger. The thrill of calling Magnus that will hopefully never wear off. It's intimate. It's theirs alone.

“Besides, Izzy is going to move to Edom City.”

“Right. You must be elated.”

“I'm happy, because she seems to be happy. I doubt she'll hang around with me much. She's always found it easy to connect with people. And we'll be away a lot come New Year.”

“Not as long as we initially thought,” Magnus says, heading straight for the drinks.

“Why's that?”

“Some countries on the list asked for a king's visit instead,” Magnus says, busying himself with mixing a cocktail.

“Is it because of me?” Alec asks.

“No. It is because of them, Alexander.”

Alec sighs. “You gotta share stuff like that with me, Magnus.”

“Why should I do those bigots’ bidding? Your hurt won't change them. I promised to protect you in our vows, remember?”

No, Alec doesn't. The memories of that day are still a patchwork rug with way too many holes in it. He didn't even remember that Andrew was one of his groomsmen. He played it cool when Andrew told him how much that had meant to him.

Alec pushes away the unease spreading in his stomach whenever he thinks of his wedding day. It still covers up the anger he knows is just bubbling right underneath. But there's no outlet that would make any of it good again. Some things simply can't be fixed.

“I wish the world didn't know,” he says, fidgeting with his new cuff links that Magnus bought him at Tiffany's. “Living stealth wasn't always easy, but my transness wasn't so much on the forefront of my mind. It wasn't an issue in everyday life.”

“One day, all of this will die down,” Magnus tries to comfort him.

“From your lips to God's ears, my love,” Alec says and pulls Magnus into a kiss. This is their last night in New York. He doesn't want to think about what other people do or say. He wants to savour every minute of it. And there's no better pastime than kissing his husband and swaying gently to Magnus’ favourite jazz record.

“This is nice,” he says quietly. Magnus hums in agreement. Alec's lips curl into a smile. “Thank you,” he says.

“For what?”

“For giving me this. We needed it.”

“It's my unbridled pleasure,” Magnus replies. Alec doesn't think he understands.

“It's the strangest thing,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“I was so scared to lose you, and so were you.” Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. “Talking is hard for me but… you make me feel safe,” he confesses, “and I think…” He winces, the acknowledgement too embarrassing and frightening, too. “I think I've never felt safe before.”

Magnus pulls back, studying his face for a long moment. “I'm sorry and glad all at once,” he says.

Alec quirks a smile. “It'll take a while to get used to this.”

Magnus nods. “I understand. But be assured, it's the same for me. But we can do it. Together.”

“Together,” Alec agrees. Everything will be good as long as they connect and are honest with each other.

Chapter Text

“I don't wanna get up,” Alec murmurs. Magnus chuckles and presses a kiss on the rune on Alec's shoulder.

“Me, neither. But we still have an hour until we have to,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. It's a dangerous move. He knows that. Past Magnus would have called him silly. But past Magnus was never with someone who only draws boundaries to protect others but never themself.

Alec's fingers run over Magnus’ side, leaving goosebumps behind. Magnus closes his eyes for a moment, yearning filling his chest as he dwells in the gentle touch. Alec is only waiting for him to take the first step, but it's hard to give in to his unspoken request. So much could go wrong. Magnus could ask a badly worded question, could make Alec uncomfortable or worse, hurt him again. His husband isn't used to talking about sex or what makes him feel good. As much as Magnus loves to make him blush, a with embarrassment squirming Alec isn't what he wants to see again.

Last night, they touched on the basics, wrapped up in each other's arms. Magnus still isn't over the fact that Alec was in pain when they got him pregnant. Or that he didn't feel the orgasms that Magnus was so sure he had given him. Magnus has always prided himself on putting his partner's pleasure first. Yes, Alec wasn't the most vocal or his body's reactions earth-shattering, but Magnus thought he was simply the quiet kind, used to it after growing up sharing a bedroom with Jace for several years after they moved to New York. Magnus still doesn't know how to handle this—the fact that he used Alec's body for his own pleasure, and Alec just let him. But he won't allow that to stand in the way of getting Alec to enjoy himself, to experience the full spectrum of desire and satisfaction. He still can change tack. They can. Still, they shouldn't rush into things. This is too important. So Magnus soaks in their closeness and Alec's warm skin under his fingertips and pushes his urges away. Good things take time.

He lets his fingers explore the exposed skin of Alec's body, his skin shining golden in the warm light of the bedside lamp.

“What does this one mean?” he asks, Alec's stomach quivering under his touch.

“Agility,” Alec replies.

“And this one?”

“Stamina,” Alec says, chuckling.

“How does a Shadowhunter decide which ones to get tattooed?”

“Everyone gets the Angelic rune after their confirmation. And then, it's a personal thing. Sometimes, it's things we think define us. Other times, it's things we seek,” he says, scratching the rune on his right shoulder absentmindedly.

Magnus hums in understanding. “Which was your first after the Angelic rune?”

“Strength,” Alec replies, showing it off.

“You surely always had strength,” Magnus states.

“No,” Alec chuckles, “I had to build it. First, I hoped to find enough strength to live my life as a girl. When I realised I wasn't cut out for that, I had to gather strength to come out and live as myself. In hindsight, many of my runes are related to that journey. They seem generic enough to other Shadowhunters. I think that's what makes that tradition so beautiful. It is a very personal thing. Everyone decides which fit and with whom to share them. When I wear long sleeves only one is visible.”

“What does the rune on your neck stand for?” Magnus asks. Alec chuckles, eyes rolling. If at himself or Magnus’ curiosity, Magnus isn't quite sure.

“Deflection or blocking. After my parabatai dumped me, I just wanted to disappear. It seemed fitting. But I guess people took it the wrong way. They kept their distance, save for those who knew me. In hindsight, I don't think that choice served me. But no one in Edom knows the meaning behind it, so…”

Magnus hums in acknowledgement, his heart aching. His beloved has gone through so much.

“Is there any rune that you still want to get?”

Alec wets his lips, blushing beautifully. “No one left on my bucket list. I'm done. Besides, I'm not a Shadowhunter anymore.”

“This is still your culture.”

“But it's not yours and some runes only come in pairs. I'm destined to go without one of those.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Magnus asks, unsure if he's walking into a sand trap with that, but he wants to understand.

“I guess it figures. It's just another way in which I failed.”

“Or defied expectations?” Magnus offers, tilting his head to get a better look of Alec's face. His husband looks sombre.

“I don't even know who I am anymore,” he says quietly. Magnus’ heart sinks. Is this depression talking or simply an identity crisis that will resolve itself with time?

“You are Alec, Prince of Edom, full name Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane. You are a warrior, a diplomat, an Olympic medalist, a fighter, a fine man, selfless and smart. You are my husband, my love, the one I want to raise a family with. You are a devoted brother and a too-generous son. You are someone who seeks justice and peace. You're a man of many talents, and the ground under your feet will grow sturdy again,” Magnus says firmly. Alec doesn't look convinced.

“I'm not half as good a man as you make me out to be,” he says.

“Prove me wrong,” Magnus taunts playfully. Alec doesn't meet his eyes, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard.

“There are things that you would hate me for,” Alec says. Magnus doesn't move, doesn't want to give him the impression that he thinks he's even capable of provoking such a consequence.

“There's nothing that could make me hate you, Alexander,” Magnus says as matter-of-factly as he can muster.

“You have no idea.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. For all the progress they've made, there's still so much to unpack between them. Lifting those things off Alec's chest must be a top priority.

“Try me,” Magnus says. Alec needs to feel it in his bones that there is nothing and no one that can come between them, ever again.

“I saved a high ranking Circle member from imprisonment,” Alec says, staring him right in the eyes. Magnus gapes at him, body frozen with the turmoil raging through his mind.

“You didn't have the power to do that,” Magnus mutters. “Not even with your family's connections. Where would you even meet such a person? At the Institute?”

Alec shakes his head.

“Then where?” Magnus asks, his voice sounding high to his own ears. He has to calm down or this will go sideways. Is Alec testing the waters with such an outrageous claim? But hell, if this is true… Magnus isn't a violent person, but if he ever got Valentine to himself, he might just lose it. That man and his scoundrels have done unspeakable things to Downworlders, planning to kill all of them. Some things are hard to forgive, and this feels impossible.

“Where, Alexander?”

“In the womb,” Alec croaks. Magnus does pull back now, his body moving out of the bed before his brain has fully processed the news.

“Who?” he croaks.

“You know who,” Alec says, sitting up against the headboard. He's right. There aren't many people Alec would bend his own rules for. Magnus can put two and two together. But how did the Lightwoods even manage to enter Edom to marry off their child? Asmodeus had been very adamant that no one involved in the Uprising would throw their hat in the ring.

“Why are you telling me this?” Magnus asks, his heart cracking into a million pieces. He didn't think Alec was capable of such a betrayal. If the press gets wind of this… all hell would break loose.

“Because you wanted the truth. And the truth is that my family burdened itself with guilt. My existence cost Downworlders’ lives.”

Magnus laughs in a desperate attempt to release some tension in his body. He feels like he's going to be sick. Alec can't be serious!

“The Circle was dismantled months before your birth.”

“But when my mother turned against Valentine, she found out that she was pregnant with me. So she couldn't work as a mole like my father did. She couldn't fully redeem herself because she protected the baby growing under her heart.”

Magnus slumps against the dresser, some final puzzle pieces painfully clicking into place. “Is that why you married in drag? Because you thought her sins were yours to pay?”

“They were,” Alec says. Magnus can't believe his ears.

“Do you honestly think that?!”

“Someone had to wash our family name clean again. It would have been tarnished forever if I hadn't complied.”

“The family name,” Magnus spits.

“Yes, the family name. The one Izzy and Max still carry. It would have destroyed their lives.”

“What about your life?”

Alec snorts a laugh. As if he didn't matter in all if this. As if he planned assassinations and bomb attacks.

“My life doesn't matter,” Alec says. “Our family name will carry on for generations because I protected it.”

He doesn't even sound bitter. Magnus’ heart splinters for very different reasons now, the deeper meaning of Alec's Memorial Day speech finally sinking in. He carried the guilt of his people, of his parents. He truly thinks that he shares responsibility for their misdeeds and Maryse's incapability to wash herself clean. Does he see himself as the Lightwood's sin offering or the hero? He doesn't look happy either way.

“I carry that name now, too,” Magnus states, slowly getting a grip on his voice again. This is all messed up, but he promised Alec to put in the effort. And it was his honesty policy that brought all of this to light. Alec was brave again. Magnus has to give him credit for that.

“I'm sorry,” Alec croaks. “I'm sorry that you're bound to a family of traitors.”

Magnus falters a little at that. Strangely, Alec's words only prove his point even more. Alec is selfless in the best and worst ways possible. And despite the iron grip the new knowledge still has on Magnus’ heart, he pushes himself to comfort the man before him, who offered his head on a silver platter.

“It's never a baby's fault to be born to terrible parents, Alexander,” Magnus says. “And if what you said is true, then your parents tried to fix their wrongdoings. I'm just angry that they made you, of all people, pay for it. That they burdened you with their guilt, and that they and your country betrayed the trust and hard work you put in to be a positive role model of what a Shadowhunter can be.”

Alec's jaw clenches tight at that, holding in a protest he probably doesn't even fully feel anymore. Maybe he's finally starting to see them for who they are—selfish, self-centred, not interested in his well-being. Magnus remembers well the moment he saw his father in that light for the first time. It was soul shattering.

“Why haven't you told me before?” Magnus asks. Maybe it's not of importance, but he needs to move this conversation into a different direction. Understanding instead of judgement.

“I didn't know until after our betrothal,” Alec replies, his eyes honest and sad. “I never saw their Circle runes. I mean… no one tattooed it in a visible place. Not even Valentine. I bet there are lots of high ranking Clave members still wearing theirs with pride, even though showing it publicly would mean jail time for them. Since the Circle was declared a terrorist organisation, the law has cracked down against anyone affiliating with its cause. I suppose my parents got rid of their runes. I remember my mom in a bikini when I was a kid…”

“And you really had no idea they were followers of Valentine?” Magnus asks.

Alec shakes his head. “They never talked about the Uprising. In my memory, they always worked for the Clave. Not that it would matter. They did what they did.” He lets out a ragged breath. “Do you hate me now?” he asks, his voice small. Magnus peels himself away from the dresser and sits down on the edge of the bed. He reaches out for Alec's hand. It trembles in his.

“My father did bad things, too, Alexander. To Shadowhunters. To Downworlders. To my own mother. To you. — Do you hate me?” Alec shakes his head. “I don't hate you, either,” Magnus says. “You were very brave to tell me. Thank you for trusting me.”

Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. “I was scared to lose you over it.”

“And still, you felt it was right to share the truth with me. That's progress, isn't it?”

Alec quirks a lopsided smile. “I suppose.”

“That took great courage. And… if I'm being honest, that helps me feel safe in our relationship, too.” It's the most unexpected thing. But with touch reinstated, it feels strangely right. Alec releases a breath, hand tightening in Magnus’ hold.

“You are way too good to carry the Lightwood name, you know? My family is a mess.”

Magnus huffs a laugh. “Well, mine only looks sorted because my father got rid of pretty much everyone who's ever been close to us, which weren't many people in the first place. That's why I had to build a family of my own. You're lucky to still have some people left.”

Alec smiles muted. “It was nice being with my siblings. But I think the times when we were as thick as thieves are over. They don't know about Mom and Dad's involvement. They don't understand why I did what I did.”

“They should know,” Magnus says. He's so fed up with Alec doing all of the heavy lifting in this family.

“What good would it do?”

Magnus doesn't know what to say to that.

“You sure you're okay?” Alec asks after a minute of silence.

“Still processing, but yes,” Magnus replies.

“Are we okay?” Alec asks.

Magnus nods, staring at their intertwined fingers. Another crossroad taken.

“The strength you carry, your loyalty is something I've never witnessed before, and even though I think that sometimes, it has been misguided, I can't help but love you even more for it.”

“My loyalty lies with you now,” Alec says softly.

Magnus quirks a smile. “I know.” He does. And maybe, that's the biggest miracle of it all.

Chapter Text

Alec smiles into the camera, trying his best not to roll his eyes at the Christmas decorations surrounding them. Yes, it's tasteful, but still. Unlike his husband, he's not in a holiday mood. He can't wait to get out of here and to the soup kitchen where they will volunteer today. It was his idea, one that Magnus agreed to just too willingly. It's not as if they haven't had their schedule filled with Christmas-related visits since their return from New York two days ago, but giving out food to people who would go hungry otherwise seems more meaningful than a Christmas portrait of the happy royal couple. Save for the gift giving at the orphanage. Seeing those children's shiny eyes hit him right in the feels.

Next year, they could have celebrated Christmas as a family. Alec doesn't know why it still makes him sad that they won't. He was relieved after the miscarriage, wasn't he? Eventually, at least. And they will have that, one way or another. The extracted eggs are viable, so he could even get a hysterectomy now. But with Asmodeus being something of a loose cannon, he'd rather not. Birth control must suffice.

“Everything okay, Alexander?” Magnus’ voice cuts through his thoughts. Shit! He missed the photographer's instructions.

“Yeah. I'm good,” he says.

He truly is. A weight has been lifted off his chest. Magnus knows his family secret, and he's still here. Still loving and caring, still holding him at night, making sure he eats enough by day. He even got up with him in the morning to train with him. They sparred. Magnus is damn good at it, but he claimed the training wasn't very effective as he wanted to kiss Alec every ten minutes. Not that Alec would complain, but he thinks it goes deeper.

Their busy schedule covers it up well, but it hasn't escaped Alec's attention that physically speaking, nothing has really changed between them. Alec feels like he's going to die of proverbial blue balls if they don't get this part of their life on the road soon. Turns out, even while thinking about Magnus, making himself come is still an unachievable goal. It just feels wrong to touch himself. Maybe it will be easier if Magnus does it, now that the air is cleared between them? But what if Magnus won't ever trust him enough to take that step again? Maybe he needs a little convincing, needs to see that Alec means it when he says he wants him.

Alec pushes away his sad, horny thoughts and concentrates on the position the photographer wants them to be in. It's simple enough. He just needs to look gracious.

“Just like that. Yes, that's a perfect shot,” the photographer says. He apparently took photos of the British Royal family before. Not that Alec would care. All he cares about is to fulfil his duties and make Magnus happy. That's harder to achieve than he thought it would be.

The Prince Royal does look happy, however. He checks out the pictures on the monitor. They look great, Alec has to admit. That's what their wedding pictures should have looked like. Alec still can't avoid the wave of shame running through his body whenever he thinks about that day. Shame, increasingly mixed with sadness and anger. He still thinks he did the right thing, and yet, these new feelings are breaking through. Is it Magnus’ insistence? His graciousness that Alec has never experienced before?

“We're done here,” Magnus says, clapping his hands together.

“Not quite,” Asmodeus’ voice carries over powerfully. Alec freezes for a millisecond. He didn't expect to see his father-in-law before the obligatory Christmas mass.

“I wouldn't know for what,” Magnus says firmly, his lips pulling into a tense pout.

“For the photo of the happy family,” Asmodeus coos and cups their shoulders. Alec doesn't flinch away. All he does is take cues from Magnus who looks back at him questioningly. They both know they have to comply. This is the king, arsehole or not.

“We have to be at the soup kitchen in 45 minutes, and we have to change,” Magnus states.

“This won't take us longer than five minutes, am I right?”

The photographer nods, already getting his equipment ready. Magnus shakes his father's hand off. “Five minutes,” he insists.

Alec lets himself be ordered around, his grip on reality slipping, everything growing a little hazy. Asmodeus’ presence drains him, anger and helplessness cursing through his body. This man is pure evil, a demon in human disguise. Not that Alec would let show how much his father-in-law affects him. He knows how to keep a stiff upper lip.

How could Magnus become such a wonderful man with Asmodeus as a role model? Well, some people are destined to become their parents; others run the other way. Alec used to comply. He doubts he would have ever broken out if he were cis and straight. Jace sure didn't. Not in big ways, despite his rebellious teenage years. He's settled, happy with the trajectory of his life. That was never foreseeable in Alec's. But he is now, isn't he? Finally on the right track. If he doesn't mess it up, that is.

But he can have this now—a loving husband, a family of his own, maybe even a career. Tessa arranged an informal meeting with the Edom Olympic Team coach before they head out for their tour of state visits. They still need Asmodeus’ approval, however. Alec doubts he'll receive it. Maybe that's why he hasn't touched a bow since his birthday. Asmodeus won't let go of the last real lever he still has over his life. Magnus is more optimistic. God knows why.

“That'll do,” Magnus states and tugs on his husband's hand. Alec shakes himself out of the fog surrounding his mind. He lets himself be ushered away, the world only coming fully back into focus when he sinks into the leather backseat of Magnus’ limousine.

“The gall of that man,” Magnus hisses under his breath. “I'm so sorry, Alexander.”

Alec shakes his head, blinking a few times before he manages the ghost of a smile. “He's the king. He can do whatever he pleases.”

“No, he can't. We still have a right to privacy.”

“He wants to keep up appearances. You always publish a father-son picture every Christmas.”

“You're such a stalker,” Magnus says teasingly.

Alec huffs a laugh. “There was a photo gallery in the Edom Chronicle. Reading the biggest newspaper of the land is hardly stalker behaviour.”

“Touché,” Magnus says. “I should've known that I wouldn't get around it. I just…” He sighs.

Alec laces his fingers between his, squeezing gently. “What difference does it make? We have to sit through a mass and a Christmas dinner with him anyway.”

They both know it does make a difference. Magnus still nods, scrutinising Alec with tender eyes. “You seemed… distant,” he states.

Alec swallows hard and looks out of the window, the city flying by. He doesn't want to worry Magnus. It wasn't a full on episode. He can still remember going through the motions. The memory isn't wrapped into a tight fog.

“I took a timeout,” he says. Magnus hums noncommittally. “You surely do that, too, from time to time,” Alec mutters.

“Not like that, Alexander. I may be in my head sometimes, but you could always snap me out of it. When you're like that, you seem like thousands of miles away. It scares me.”

Alec flips his head around, an apology already on his tongue. But the words crumble into dust when he sees the glassy shimmer of tears in his husband's eyes.

“You don't have to do that, you know? You can stay at home, and I'll have dinner with my father,” Magnus assures him.

“I'm not a coward,” Alec says.

“I know. You're one of the bravest people I know. But I meant it. I will protect you. Always.”

Alec quirks a lopsided smile. “I know, babe. It's just… This year was a lot. It's gonna get better. I promise.”

“I know,” Magnus replies. “But if you need a break…”

“The people might question my general health if I am laid low with the ‘flu’ twice in a month… And what would I do without you? Stare at the Christmas tree all alone? That sounds depressing.”

Magnus wets his lips, his thumb running over Alec's knuckles. “Better than you slipping into a full-blown depression because my father gets under your skin,” he states.

“Is that what you're worried about?”

“I'm worried about a great many things, my love. You, most of all. And I know you don't want me to, but I can't help it, and I won't even promise to try, because I won't.”

Alec smiles at that.

“Did we speak the same vows?” he asks. Magnus’ face slips for a second, then morphs back to the soft smile Alec loves so much.

“We did.”

“In that case, not letting you face that devil alone is part of keeping them.”

Magnus nods. “Alright. But if he should try to get you alone…”

“I won't fall for his lies and deception anymore. And we can talk about everything after, right?”

“Right,” Magnus agrees and seals the conversation with a long kiss. It's all worth moments like this, Alec thinks, when it feels like nothing could ever come between them. Not even the most powerful man in the country.

“I can't believe you've never done this,” Alec chuckles. It sounds teasing to Magnus’ ears. Magnus can't help but smile. He likes that side of him—light, amused, happy.

“I'm surprised to hear you have soup kitchens in Idris,” Magnus says and ladles another portion of Chilli into the prepared bowls.

“We don't,” Alec states. He sounds a little too smug about it.

“Because you exile insufficient individuals without a parabatai to lend a hand?”

Alec's face falls, eyes getting stuck on the tray of bowls in front of him. Shit!

“I didn't mean—” Magnus tries to apologise.

“No, you're right. Mediocrity isn't tolerated in Idris. It's either dominate or adapt. Survival of the fittest in Darwin's original meaning.”

“I'm surprised you were even taught that.”

“We weren't. I read his original work,” Alec mutters.

“You're full of surprises,” Magnus says, unsure how to navigate out of the dead end he manoeuvred them in. But Alec continues to talk.

“I read many books. Izzy wasn't wrong. I partially lived in the Public Library. There, I could read about stuff beyond Idris’... propaganda.”

Magnus gapes at him. Alec was a rule breaker all along. And so aligned with the system at the same time. Maybe that's what pulled Magnus in right from the start. The current of ambiguity. Unsure what to say, he squeezes Alec's shoulder. So many people tried to clip his wings, stifle his curiosity, and trapped his body and self-expression in a cage. But Alec's mind—his beautiful mind—prevailed.

“You gotta change your glove now,” Alec states, tone back to teasing. Magnus chuckles.

“Yeah. I'm not good at sticking to the rules.” Not when it comes to you, for sure, he adds in his mind.

Alec smiles at him. He's so gorgeous. Magnus feels like he's going to die if he doesn't kiss him immediately. So he does.

A surprised sound falls from Alec's lips, but they welcome Magnus nonetheless. With his hands still occupied, Alec kisses him back, lips hungry in a way they haven't been in weeks. Magnus doesn't care if anyone sees them like this. This is the safest place in the world to let himself enjoy this. Nothing will come off it but joy and warmth. It's perfect. He doesn't dare hope that it's the beginning of something new. He simply seizes the moment. The world is allowed to see that he's utterly in love.

Chapter Text

Magnus throws his jacket on the sofa and stretches his limbs. Sweating in the soup kitchen was harder than he thought. He feels sticky and fulfilled. Alec looks the same as he slips out of his shoes. Magnus smiles to himself. He likes the domesticity of it. Alec always forgoes his gold-embroidered slippers, pattering around on socked feet.

Alec walks after him, hands settling on Magnus’ hips, pulling him close back to chest. Gentle lips grace his neck, sending goosebumps over his skin. He dwells in it for five hot seconds, then turns with a smile on his face.

“I really need a shower. I wasn't dressed appropriately for the heat of the stoves.” He presses a kiss to Alec's pouting lips and walks towards their bedroom with a racing heart. He knows he should talk about his struggles with them being intimate. It should be easier after everything they've shared. But the day was long and Asmodeus’ lingering presence is still having an effect on him. Alec surely is dead on his feet, too. He was being affectionate. It doesn't mean that he wants—

“Can I join you?” Alec asks.

Magnus stalls, memories of shared showers under a blue sky, washing the sand off their salty skin catching him off guard. Their honeymoon will haunt him forever. But he knows that new, good memories can help. Not to forget, but to ease the pain. Why is he such a chicken? Alec clearly isn't.

He turns, dwelling in the sight of Alec's rose-dusted cheeks. This must have taken him courage to ask.

“Are you sure?” he asks nonetheless. “We'd be in bed faster if we showered separately.”

“Are you tired?” Alec asks, eyes seriously concerned.

“I'm good. It was just a long day.”

Alec nods, lips twitching. “It was. We don't hafta.”

Magnus knows he means it, but what good would it do to skip this? It's just a shower, right?

Well, it isn't. With Alec's hands all over him, lathering him up, pressing kisses to his shoulder as his hands don't shy away from thoroughly washing the grime of the day away, Magnus finds himself humming in strained delight. He wishes he could switch off his inquiring mind.

“You're tense,” Alec says as his hands run over Magnus’ hips. It's a question in disguise.

“Just,” Magnus breathes, looking down at the traitor between his legs. This should be a moment of being close without pressure. If Alec finds him hard…

“Just what?” Alec asks, his hot breath hitting the shell of Magnus’ ear.

Magnus wets his lips. “You have very talented hands,” he replies. He can feel the curl of Alec's lips against his skin before he hears his warm chuckle. The sound shouldn't make him even harder, but it does.

“I just wanna make you feel good,” Alec says lowly. “Can I?”

This man will be the death of him. Magnus is a weaker man than he thought himself to be. But this is his husband. They are supposed to share this with each other. So Magnus gives in, his heart pounding in his chest more than it did during their first time, hell, more than during his first time.

“If you really want it,” he manages.

“I've wanted you all day. That shirt you wore to the soup kitchen…”

Magnus can't help but laugh. He knows how to turn heads, but this evening, all he wanted was Alec's eyes on him.

“God, I love your chest,” Alec murmurs, his fingers skimming over Magnus’ pecs as if to prove it. Magnus is reminded of the way he couldn't help ogling Alec sparring shirtless with him. And still, he doesn't dare turn to indulge in that hairy chest, to run his fingers over Alec's wet body.

“Why's that?” Magnus croaks.

Another kiss to his shoulder, Alec's chest pressing to his back as his hands hitch dangerously close to their final destination.

“You are the sexiest man alive,” Alec says, sounding breathless. Is he just as aroused as Magnus? Magnus wishes he could just turn around and slide his hand up Alec's thigh to find an answer to that question. But Alec hates it. Hates his touch, his hands, his mouth on him. He didn't say that, of course. He didn't have to. All he listed enjoying during their honeymoon were things that solely benefitted Magnus’ pleasure. That fact has been gnawing on him ever since their last night in New York. But every thought of that melts away with the heat cursing through his body when Alec wraps his hand around his length. Magnus is a weak man, selfish. He's yearned for this, for someone to want him for him, for someone to put him first. He should have been more careful with what he was wishing for. Now he has a gorgeous, hot husband who could bring him to tears with his clever fingers and gentle kisses. A husband who he doesn't dare to touch, too afraid that he might break his trust for good. What a cruel irony of life.

Alec's hand sneaks between them, an involuntary sound of surprise punching out of Magnus when Alec's finger brushes over his hole, cautious but determined.

“Can I?” Alec asks again. Magnus swallows hard, his heart beating in his mouth. He manages a strangled sound of approval.

Alec is careful, murmuring questions into his ear as Magnus is pinned between both of his hands. A peal of laughter works out of Magnus’ mouth, delirious and wanton. Alec takes him apart, his body crowding him in the large shower, surrounding him and claiming all of his senses. It feels like he's sheltering him, pulling moans from him that make it impossible to think or mourn or even stop. How is he so good at this? It's not fair! It's heaven and hell, and everything between.

Magnus’ whole body is tingling, stomach pulling tight as he tumbles over the edge with a long-drawn “Alec” on his lips. His knees grow weak as he comes, but Alec holds him up, their bodies connecting from chest to toes. Magnus slumps against the wall, the tiles cool against his face as he catches his breath. He laughs, endorphins flooding his body. Alec joins him, still pressing kisses into his skin as he slowly pulls out of him.

Magnus tries to catch his breath but who needs that when the man who loves you swirls you around and kisses you as if he needed you like air.

Magnus runs his hands over Alec's back, stopping at his butt, squeezing. It pulls a laugh from Alec's lips.

“I like it when you do that,” Alec shares, grinning at him with that boyish smile Magnus would fall for in every universe.

“I like that, too,” he says, mischief conquering him. “What else do you want me to do to you?” he asks playfully as he squeezes again, pulling their crotches together. It doesn't land. Alec's lips twitch nervously, and much to Magnus’ remorse, he pulls away.

“I'm good,” Alec says, already fishing for his bath towel. The hot shower suddenly doesn't feel warm enough anymore.

Magnus stops the flow and makes quick work of most of the water on his skin, wrapping his towel around his hips before he enters the bedroom. Alec is already wearing his pyjama pants. So far, so usual. What makes Magnus’ stomach clench is the top in Alec's hand. They haven't worn shirts at night for a long while, both of them enjoying sleeping skin to skin way too much.

Alec is back in his head again. It is written in the tightness of his shoulders, the robotic rise and fall of his chest. Magnus can't allow this. Not after what they've just shared.

He wraps his arms around Alec's middle, chest pressing against the damp skin of Alec's back. Placing a kiss on his shoulder, Magnus nuzzles against him.

“You're incredible,” he whispers. “You made me feel so good.”

Alec relaxes minutely, his body vibrating with the ragged breath leaving his lungs.

“I love seeing you come,” he croaks, “making you come.”

“Aren't I lucky?” Magnus asks as lightly as he musters. He is. He really is. And he will learn to live with that sadness that will probably accompany their sex life forever.

“I wish I could fuck you,” Alec says quietly.

“You just did,” Magnus states.

“You know what I mean,” Alec says, pressing back into the contact of their bodies.

“You could,” Magnus says. “There are prosthetics… or surgeries.”

Alec huffs a laugh. “You did your research.”

Magnus can't read the sound of his voice, but he has an inkling where Alec's mind just went.

“I love your body just the way it is. It is perfect.”

“It isn't.”

“Of course it is. Because you're wrong. You are the sexiest man alive.”

The hoped for laugh never comes, just silent contemplation.

“We should go to bed,” Alec says after a long moment of silence. Magnus nods and presses another kiss to his husband's shoulder. Alec puts the pyjama top aside and crawls into bed. Magnus slides his pyjama bottoms on and slots into Alec's arms, their bodies two perfect puzzle pieces clicking into place. He wishes he could make Alec believe.

“I meant it,” he murmurs into the night.

“I know you did,” Alec says quietly. It doesn't feel like it. Magnus doesn't argue, though. Rome wasn't built in a day, either. One day, Alec will undoubtedly know that he means it, that it is the truth.

“I love you,” Magnus says.

There's a smile in Alec's voice when he replies, “I love you, too. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I've been dreaming of doing that with you for a while.”

“You have?”

Alec hums in affirmation, his lips gracing Magnus’ neck.

“What else are you dreaming of?” Magnus asks.

“Impossible things,” Alec says cryptically.

“There's no such thing.”

Alec exhales loudly. “I'm worried that it'll hurt all the more if I speak it out loud.”

“The only way to deal with fear is to face it head-on and embrace it,” Magnus states.

“I'm not scared, Magnus. I just don't wanna disappoint you.”

“You could never.”

“I can't even make myself come,” Alec says, voice tiny. “This body wasn't created to experience what comes so easily to others.”

Magnus’ heart clenches. “What makes you think that?”

“I'm a gay, trans Shadowhunter. The Angels have sick humour. That's all.”

“You're a Downworlder now, Alexander. And I don't believe that the Divine is cruel like that.”

“Well… it is what it is.”

Magnus has no wise words to soothe his beloved.

“We'll see about that,” he says softly. Alec doesn't react to that. Maybe, it simply needs more time. And they have the rest of their lives to find out who of them is right.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” Magnus says, craning his head to catch Alec's lips.

“Sweet dreams,” Alec whispers.

“If I'm lucky, I will dream of you,” Magnus says. Alec chuckles, warm and low. He probably thinks he's a sap, but Magnus doesn't care. As imperfect as the afterglow was, they took an important step today. And Magnus will keep on walking that path. Alec doesn't know it yet, but Magnus is on a mission. He likes a good challenge, and making his husband feel comfortable in his body when they are between the sheets just pushed itself to the top. Magnus will find a way. And with that thought, he slides into sleep.

Chapter Text

Alec glances at the clock hanging on the training room wall. Magnus is likely still asleep. Alec got up early, even for his standards. He was restless, dreams torturing him. Fighting. Heartbreak. Impossible things. It was a wild ride of everything.

He should have kept his mouth shut last night, should have been playful, not let Magnus see the ache in his body, the unquenchable need, the devastation that followed one of the most intimate moments they've ever shared. Why can't he put on a brave face? That was his whole schtick before meeting Magnus, wasn't it?

God, he hates himself. Now, Magnus will worry, or he'll avoid having sex altogether, as he did the past few weeks. But Alec wants it, wants him. He wants Magnus so damn much, even though it makes his own indelible need skyrocket. He was so aroused while pleasuring Magnus, he felt like exploding with it. But after, when Magnus asked what he wanted, Alec didn't know what to say, what to dare say or ask for. It felt dangerous, a sure way to snuff out the glimmer of hope still glinting in him. What if Magnus wasn't magical enough to ignite a fire hot enough to burn away the unease, the fear of not being enough, of not reacting enough? The possibility of Alec hating every second of it felt like too much to handle.

He went to bed still pent up due to it. It was all worth it, though. He'll get used to it.

Alec heaves the dumbbells up, using his knees to kick them up in position. Hard training is the cure for everything. He'll add a good long run on the treadmill after. He has the time. He needs the exhaustion. He will have a quick shower after and a delicious breakfast at his husband's side. Then a few hours of lazing around with him, then mass, then Christmas dinner with Asmodeus. Alec is trying not to think of that, which is easy with his muscles burning like wildfire. This is good. Feeling his body like this. It's familiar, right, pulls his focus away from the dysphoria wrecking his body all anew.

He loses himself in counting the reps, in watching the seconds hand tipping by during his rest between sets. Training to failure is his favourite on days like this. He'll be sore, probably. Alec is looking forward to it. A reason to return home early in the making. Or a way to distract himself when Asmodeus starts playing one of his games. It's better than the just healed cuts. He can't allow himself more of those. He mustn't. The burn of healing muscles must suffice.

He's still floating in the zone when his alarm goes off, the one that would have woken him up for his usual training. An hour of running will keep up the flow. He'll probably need a nap to get through the day, but those are usually dreamless, so…

Sweaty but happy, he takes the stairs two at a time, the welcomed pain already burning in his legs. He is startled when he finds Magnus half-buried in one of the cabinets built into the passage connecting the entrance hall with the living room. He is fully dressed and dolled up, the look on his face that of a deer caught in the headlights. He pushes something frantically into the cabinet and closes the door, turning the key before he puts on a smile and crosses the distance between them.

“How was your training?” he asks, pressing a kiss to Alec's lips.

“Good. I went all in. Will feel it later,” he answers with a laugh.

“That's great,” Magnus says, fidgeting with the Lightwood family ring. He's really bad at covering up clearly being caught red handedly doing something Alec wasn't supposed to see.

“Everything okay?” Alec asks.

“Yes, I just… I forgot where I put Catarina's birthday gift.”

“You put it on the dresser in the bedroom,” Alec says. “Why do you need it right now?”

“Because we're having breakfast together.”

“Oh,” Alec says. “That wasn't on my schedule. I'll be quick.” He squeezes past Magnus, but his husband's voice stops him in his tracks.

“It wasn't on your schedule because it's only her and me,” Magnus says. “It's tradition.”

“Oh,” Alec says, feeling dumb. Of course. What was he thinking? That he would join them?

“I guess I'll… I'll wait for you then.”

Magnus looks torn, cheeks twitching.

“It's fine, Magnus. Would have been nice to know beforehand, but I understand.”

“I wrote about it in one of my letters. I should have mentioned it again,” Magnus says.

Alec nods. How could he forget? He's usually good at remembering things. But well. He wasn't fully himself when he read Magnus’ letters.

“Where will Madzie be?” Alec asks, hoping to at least spend a bit of time with his favourite Downworlder beside Magnus.

“With Ragnor.”

So much for that.

“Ragnor?” Alec asks. He struggles imagining him acting around children.

“He's her other godfather,” Magnus explains.

“Why isn't he with you?”

“Because this tradition goes back to high school. Catarina was sad that everyone forgot about her because her birthday falls on Christmas Eve. So we started celebrating it before the whole holiday madness starts.”

“You're a good friend,” Alec says, thinking about his birthday when Jace met Clary. It was a chaotic time, but everyone forgot his birthday that year. No one even mentioned it after. Alec didn't either. He was busy running the Institute.

“And a bad husband,” Magnus sighs.

“No. You have friends. I understand,” Alec says, doing his best not to tear up. He really should make friends who are of age. And not connected to his husband. Difficult task given his circumstances. How do you even make new friends in your 20s?

“You're an angel,” Magnus says and leaves a quick peck on Alec's lips. “I'll be home around four.”

Four.

“Have fun,” Alec manages believably. At least, he won't miss out on anything when he goes straight from the shower to bed.

Sleep evades Alec. So he gets up again after tossing and turning for an hour straight. He used to be able to sleep anywhere at any time. This isn't because he misses Magnus, he tells himself, but who is he kidding?

He grabs his tablet to read. He manages about ten pages, then puts it down again. He contemplates having another workout session, but he would regret that later. He goes through Magnus’ book shelf, stares at the gift parcels already lying under the Christmas tree. The two for Magnus look so small compared to the pile his husband left there for him. Even if his credit card would have arrived earlier, Alec wouldn't have known what else to get him. He couldn't buy him booze again. God, he sucks at this, at being a good husband.

He used to be good at being alone, too. He's not a puppy sitting around, waiting, never has been. And Magnus thought he could leave him alone. It's a small source of comfort that he doesn't come off as needy. Because he isn't. Alec has always been a lonely wolf. His siblings aside. He can entertain himself for a few hours.

Alec's eyes fall on the hastily closed cabinet. He knows he shouldn't even think about opening it. Yes, this is technically his home, but his stuff is still in his private rooms, and the things in the apartment are all Magnus’. But Magnus was acting weird. He insisted on honesty, so what was that about?

Alec tries to find a good movie to watch on Magnus’ multitude of streaming platforms, but curiosity gets the better of him. He tells himself that he'll likely find something boring, that he simply startled Magnus, popping up unexpectedly.

He turns the key, swinging the beautifully carved door open. His eyes pull into a frown as he looks at a hidden safe and a single shelf with a wall of boxes of different sizes, short side exposed to the front. He pulls one out, studies the description on it. A massage wand? Magnus could order over a masseur anytime. Why would he even have one of those? The package is still sealed so it's probably a late night buy or something. Is this Magnus’ closet of shopping shame? Alec chuckles at the thought.

He pulls out the next box, his eyes growing wide when he sees what's behind the clear plastic. The next one isn't much better, the picture on the package very clear about the usage of the silicone thing inside of it. He can't believe that things like this even exist. A packer makes sense, but this?

“There are prosthetics…”

Research his ass. Magnus has experience. Did he use these on himself? Are these things he had fun with with Camille?

Alec pushes the packages back into the cabinet and presses the door closed, heart beating violently against his ribcage.

Did Magnus have fun on his own after Alec couldn't give him everything he needed? Did he have to use one of those things to get off properly? Alec thought he did well. Magnus came hard. He's sure of it.

He looks out through the French windows, snow falling quietly, landing on the royal garden. Alec never liked the winter but this looks so tranquil. He wishes the snow would layer itself over the turmoil of his aching heart. This shouldn't hurt that much. Magnus is just trying to make their marriage work. Alec feels like he's failing him.

He walks out on the balcony, the cold creeping into his skin immediately. His fingers curl around the balustrade, growing stiff within seconds. Alec doesn't care. He feels himself calming down. The growing numbness is nice.

How often did he stand on top of the Institute just like this, feeling the cold weaselling through his clothes, crystallising the goosebumps on his skin? Something familiar, at last. He takes a deep breath that fills his lungs with ice. He must forget what he just saw. Magnus’ gotta do what he's gotta do to be satisfied and happy. Alec wants him to be. He needs him to be. And he needs to do better. Maybe then, Magnus won't need those things as much anymore.

Chapter Text

“Where is Alec?” Madzie asks when Magnus arrives at Ragnor's to pick up Catarina.

“Hello to you, too,” Magnus chuckles and kneels down to hug his goddaughter. “You've got Uncle Ragnor all for yourself,” he adds when she pulls back from the embrace.

“But what is Uncle Alec doing?” she asks. Magnus wishes Alec would have been here for her knightly accolade. There haven't been many people who managed to win her trust. His heart overflows with fondness. If Alec just knew how loved he is…

“He's enjoying some me-time,” he replies.

“What's that?” Madzie asks.

“That's when Momma takes a bath and you get to watch Paw Patrol all on your own,” Catarina says, laughing.

“Happy birthday, my dear,” Magnus says and hugs his friend tight. He sighs into the embrace. They haven't had enough we-time for far too long.

Catarina chuckles. “Thank you, my dear. And here I thought we'd have a brunch for three.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “I can separate rules that can be bent and rules that should never be broken.”

“You know that that one was a Camille rule, right? Alec is always welcome,” Catarina says. Magnus blinks at her. She was so adamant after the big debacle five years ago that they never bring respective partners to her birthday treat ever again.

“You two are always welcome here, too,” Ragnor says. “But could I have my goddaughter for myself just once?”

Magnus snorts a laugh. He can see the glimmer of mischief in Ragnor's eyes.

“Of course. We won't trouble you any longer. Have a wonderful time you two.”

“Bye, Uncle Magnus. Bye, Mommy,” Madzie calls from Ragnor's arm, waving at them. Magnus waves back and helps Catarina into her coat. They walk down the stairs with linked arms. Some things never change.

“Where are you taking me today?” she asks as he holds the car door open for her.

“To a sweet little café just across the border.”

“The one you wanted to take Alec to when you both fell sick?”

Magnus nods, using the time he needs to walk around the car to take a deep breath. It's not his nature to keep such big events in his life from her. Should he share it or just keep silent? He hasn't even started processing it, too focussed on Alec's healing. But he doesn't even know where Alec is on that journey. Is he compartmentalising? Or repressing his feelings? Does he consider it over and done with, now that he has his eggs frozen? Magnus doesn't trust the peace. But is it even peace? Alec still seems to battle his demons alone, despite all the things he's shared.

Patience used to be Magnus’ forte, but now, he wishes he could do magic and snap away Alec's pain with a flick of his fingers. Wouldn't that be nice?

He sinks into his seat, clicking the belt closed.

“Are you sure you don't wanna take Alec there first?” Catarina asks.

“I booked this trip ages ago, my dear. We'll have the café to ourselves. Isn't that nice?” he tries to deflect. She looks at him, non judging as usual, and still. It twists something in Magnus’ chest. He promised Isabelle to give her brother the world. All he's managed so far is to make it shrink. New York was nice, but it also drove home what little freedom Alec had before they met, and even that, Magnus took away. Not he personally, but becoming his husband did.

Alec doesn't care for titles, for luxuries or meeting important people. He hasn't dipped his toes into politics either, as of yet, firmly keeping his place as the man at Magnus’ side, not the thinking leader that he used to be, was groomed to be. If at least their love were a constant source of strength… but it isn't, has never been. Four short months since their first kiss, too many sacrifices to count. Of all the people Magnus has been with, Alec drew the shortest straw. They never had a rose-tinted phase, one where they could just enjoy themselves and be.

“I missed you,” Catarina says. “And I missed out on seeing you being happy in love,” she adds. Magnus can feel her gaze lying heavily on him. She knows him too well.

“I missed you, too,” Magnus says, a big lump forming in his throat. This is supposed to be a happy, light celebration, not a heavy heart to heart conversation.

“Is Alec okay?” Catarina asks. Magnus hears the nuance in between the words. She doesn't question the status of his relationship.

“He's so strong,” Magnus breathes. He knows it's a confession of sorts.

Catarina squeezes his hand. “You know you can talk about him. I will never judge you, or him for that matter.”

“I know,” Magnus says. “It's just… I feel so out of my depth with him. I'm constantly walking on eggshells, and when I'm not, I screw up without fail. And it's neither of us’ fault. It's Idris, his parents, my father… Alec is trying so hard to be a good husband, son, prince… I don't think he's ever had the chance to figure out who he is beyond what he can do for the people in his life. And I can't help him with that, because with our marriage come expectations and duties, too. Besides, he's so stubborn.”

“You love stubborn people.”

That elicits a smile from him. “I do.”

“You've only been married for two months, Magnus. You're still figuring each other out.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “It's not just that.”

“What is it then?”

“This conversation wouldn't pass the Bechdel test if it happened in a movie, my dear,” Magnus chuckles.

Catarina rolls her eyes. “This is real life, Magnus. And who else are you supposed to talk this through with? Ragnor?”

Magnus huffs a laugh. “He's given me good advice before.”

“If you wanna talk with him, that's fine with me,” Catarina says. Magnus knows she means it. But Ragnor? He loves him, but they eliminated sex as a topic a long time ago. It's usually something he shares with Dorothea, but that somehow doesn't feel right this time.

Magnus shakes his head. “It's bedroom troubles,” he says cryptically.

“Okay.”

Okay. Nothing is okay.

“Dysphoria?” Catarina asks when Magnus stays silent.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Amongst other things. It's a mess.”

“You've always made things work with your partners,” Catarina says. “It can't be worse than with George.”

Magnus laughs out loud. God, he nearly forgot how much he complained about their struggles in the bedroom to her. It feels like a lifetime ago.

“George had internalised homophobia messing with his head. Alec… I think he doesn't even want to try.”

“You haven't had sex yet?” Catarina asks under her breath.

“No, we had. Plenty,” Magnus says, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste copper.

“Was it bad?” Catarina asks.

“Not for me,” Magnus replies quietly. “I put Alec through hell because he thought he had to get pregnant or we'd have been heading towards an annulment. And now, it's like he's just given up. He rejects every solution I offer. I mean, if we just weren't sexual altogether… I could live with that. But I've never been a selfish lover.”

“It's not selfish to enjoy what one is freely given, Magnus.”

“That's easy to say, much harder to practise, my dear.”

Catarina nods in understanding, a warm smile playing on her lips. “I'm sure you two will figure it out. Together.”

“I hope so,” Magnus says. What else can he do?

“Alexander?” Magnus calls. The air in the living room is surprisingly crisp. But he was told that Alec hasn't left the apartment all day.

“Alec?”

“Bathroom,” the muffled voice of his husband carries over. Magnus smiles to himself and walks to their bedroom. His valet will arrive soon. He should warn Alec about it. And tell him to pick one of his own. Magnus has been a little protective of their personal space, but he can't hide his standing any longer in everyday life, doesn't want to. He needs to put on his armour tonight, and while his impeccable taste usually hits the right spot, with travels ahead and TV cameras zoomed in on them tonight, everything needs to be perfect.

He pushes the door of the ensuite open, a fine mist welcoming him. He grins at Alec lying in the bathtub, completely immersed in water.

“My, my. What a sight for sore eyes.”

Alec smiles bashfully at him. “I forgot the time. I'm getting out in a second.”

“There's no rush. Just be aware that you shouldn't walk around naked unless you want the servantry to see you in all your glory.”

“I'd rather not,” Alec splutters. Magnus can't help but chuckle.

“Then you should probably get dressed before they arrive, my love,” he says and leans down for a kiss, one of the chains around his neck breaking the surface of the water. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks as he straightens again. Alec considers him with cautious eyes.

“Haven't done much,” he says, heaving himself out of the bathtub. Magnus hands him his towel.

“Did you dial the thermostat down? It's rather fresh out there.”

“I left the French doors open for too long. I'm sorry.”

“No need to apologise. It's a lovely sunny winter day. Catarina and I took a walk through the snow.”

“That's lovely,” Alec says, hissing quietly when Magnus takes his hand to steady him while stepping out of the tub.

“Everything alright?” Magnus asks, inconspicuously checking Alec's hands for cuts but the reddened skin is flawless.

“Yeah. I should…” Alec gestures towards the door.

“Yes. You should get going. The car picks us up at five. My valet already put out your clothes for tonight.”

“Your valet?”

“Yes. He helps me dress and groom.”

“We've been married for two months. I have never seen him.”

“Of course, you have. It's Elias.”

“Oh. I thought he was a normal servant.”

“I asked him to step back a little. But compared to our schedules here, there will be much more clothing changes when we start our travels, and… I thought of being clean shaven for a change.”

“If that's what you want.”

“You don't like it?”

Alec huffs a laugh. “I love you in any shape or form.”

Magnus’ lips curl into a smile. “Why, thank you, Alexander. I do return the sentiment.”

Alec slings the towel around his hips. “I should shave, too.”

“I can send Elias over,” Magnus offers.

“No, need. I can take care of that myself.”

“I can, too, as you know. But people like us don't have to.”

“People like us,” Alec repeats. There's something in his tone that Magnus can't quite read.

“We're royals, Alexander. We represent a nation. Nothing in the way we do that should be left to chance.”

“Of course not.”

Magnus exhales slowly as he watches Alec leave for his quarters. Has he just burst the bubble of pseudo mundane life? Has it finally fully sunk in who he is? Who Alec is through association?

“Just give him the freedom to be,” Catarina had said before Magnus changed the topic for good. His friend is a wise woman. Magnus wishes he had half her wit. Maybe then he could figure out how to make the man he loves happy.

Chapter Text

Alec does his best not to squirm in his seat. Asmodeus’ gaze is unsettling, but he won't let show how much his presence affects him. He smiled into the camera as he walked towards the temple with only Magnus separating him from the man who made him torture himself, using the man he loves as a weapon. He's managed to push that memory away so far, but it's as if all of Isabelle's talks about auras that he used to roll his eyes at were true. The king emanates evil, poisoning the very air Alec breathes. If he thought his mother demanded submission by her very existence, he didn't know half of it.

Still, he doesn't crumble, his facade as steadfast as a stony cliff defying the winds and the rolling sea. Inside though…

His hands don't betray the tremble in his chest, the tightness around his heart. His fingers smart with a vengeance, the hot tub only restoring their mobility. The flesh is still tender, though. It's just a frostnip, a light superficial frostbite at worst. No blisters developed so far. Magnus had squeezed his hand on their way to the temple. Suppressing his winces was a Herculean task. But now, they're sitting next to each other at Asmodeus’ Christmas dinner table, the first course sitting in front of him. For once, he's grateful for Maryse's strict manner lessons, the sea of cutlery not fazing him, even though he thinks Asmodeus is serving up all these dishes with the hope of humiliating him.

“And you, dear son-in-law?” Asmodeus asks after half an hour of tedious, teeth pulling small talk. His eyes pierce Alec like a lance.

“I've settled well into my new routines,” Alec replies. It's not a lie. He's good at fulfilling his royal duties. Not even his mother could find fault in that even if she tried.

Asmodeus leans back in his ebony chair, folding his hands over his stomach. Alec can't help but see the family resemblance of elegance mixed with inner strength and emanating power that makes Magnus all the more attractive to him. But on the king, it has an undercurrent of cruelty, dangerous and potentially violent.

“I couldn't help but notice that you've barely touched your wine,” Asmodeus states. “Does that mean you bring good news?”

Alec's eyes jump over to Magnus of their own accord.

“With all due respect, Father, that is none of your business,” Magnus says, sounding nonchalant.

“I beg to differ, Son. The future of our dynasty relies on the womb of your precious husband.”

“We're living in the 21st century. It does not,” Magnus says.

“I gave your husband clear instructions,” Asmodeus replies.

“I am well aware of the threats you made,” Magnus grinds out. Alec can feel the fire roaring through him. If looks could kill… But Magnus knows his place. This is as far as he can go. It must be killing him.

Asmodeus flashes him a sardonic smile. “It's not a threat when it is the truth.”

“You have no say in that matter. If, when and how we become a family is only for Alec and I to decide.”

“You've always seen reason, Magnus. It's like when you moved out, remember?”

Alec glances at Magnus. What is this about?

“I've fulfilled my duties,” Magnus grinds out.

“That you did, Son. You always do, eventually,” Asmodeus says, eyes shining with vicious amusement. Alec feels like he's going to be sick. Asmodeus won't invoke some ancient law. He will make Magnus do it. Alec can see in Magnus’ face that he's just had the same realisation.

“My loyalties lie with my husband,” Magnus says after a terribly long moment of breathlessness.

“Your only fealty is to the Kingdom of Edom,” Asmodeus says, his voice booming in Alec's ears.

“I won't use my spouse to secure a bloodline and then discard them. I'm not like you, Father.”

Asmodeus chuckles. “I'm a royal. You're a royal. That's all that matters. We can do whatever we want.”

“No,” Magnus says with emphasis. “We shouldn't, especially because we are royals. It's our duty to take care of the people in our charge, of the people in our lives. I'm not a tyrant, never will be. I love my husband. I love the people of Edom. I won't harm any of them.”

Asmodeus’ lips curl into the mockery of a saccharine smile. “Are you sure about that?”

Magnus gapes at him, eyes flickering anxiously to Alec. A rolling laughter spills out of Asmodeus, glee spreading over his face as he relaxes against the chair back. “Thought so,” he says with satisfaction dripping out of every syllable. “What did Camille say? Oh, right. ‘He won't last.’”

“Camille?” Magnus presses out. “I knew you were behind Paris!”

“She's been loyal to me when you let your insecurities get the better of you. She was supposed to be the queen by your side, but you messed up.”

“She cheated on me.”

Asmodeus sucks his teeth. “One can only be cheated on when one thinks the world revolves around one single person. You could have had any woman and man in Edom. You could have taken them, plucked them left and right, as you pleased. You still can.”

Magnus huffs a mirthless laugh. “I'm not like you,” he spits. “I want one love. But you wouldn't understand. You mistake having power over someone's body for affection and love.”

“Love,” Asmodeus scoffs. “Love is an illusion, son. It doesn't last.”

“Power doesn't either. It requires trust.”

“And that's where you're wrong. People want to feel safe, justified or not. It's that illusion that grows loyalties. Trust is way too fragile.”

Magnus shakes his head. “You think so little of the people in your care.”

“All I care about is you,” Asmodeus says.

Magnus snorts without mirth. “You sure do,” he presses through gritted teeth. “The people of Edom, Alexander… They're only tokens on a political checkerboard.”

“Now we're on the same page,” Asmodeus says, sipping from his wine glass.

“But they are not. Neither am I.”

“Oh, you are, Son,” Asmodeus raises his voice. “Your mother refused to give me more children, so the Bane legacy lies on your shoulders. And you will fulfil your duty. Your precious Alexander knows nothing else, so I expect him to follow through that childish game he started.”

“He has never agreed to any of that,” Magnus grinds out.

“That doesn't matter. In for a penny, in for a pound! He's a soldier. It's high time for him to follow through with the promise he gave to the Edom people.”

“I won't let you have him. He's my husband. He stands under my protection.”

“And that's why I expect you to make sure he knows his place,” Asmodeus says.

“He's a prince of Edom.”

“He is the soil that grows your seed, no more, no less. Your love for him will fade but the children you'll make will bind him for all eternity.”

“Like my mother?” Magnus spits.

“Your mother was weak,” Asmodeus hisses.

“She is the strongest woman I've ever known,” Magnus says, tears gleaming in his eyes. Alec wants to comfort him, but unsure if that's welcome in front of the king, he refrains.

“Let's hope your spouse lasts longer then.” The tone of Asmodeus’ voice sends a shiver down Alec's spine.

“He will. Because I will treat him with respect. I won't use his body, I won't hurt him.”

Asmodeus chuckles. “Well, you don't have to. He has taken that off your hands already, hasn't he? He's such an obedient little man. A Shadowhunter, through and through.”

“Wh–what do you mean?” Magnus stutters. Alec can feel his cheeks darken as Magnus’ gaze lands heavily on him. How does Asmodeus know? He could hide it from Magnus despite their closeness.

“You're mistaken,” Magnus says firmly. Alec's heart clenches at the conviction in his voice despite his eyes searching Alec's face for answers he likely doesn't want to hear. If Magnus knew the truth, it would surely destroy him.

“Alexander?” Magnus asks.

If Alec learnt one thing from his mother, then that honesty has a time and place. This moment isn't it.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Sir,” he says, his heart twisting with the lie.

Asmodeus quirks a smile. “The snow fell so quietly today. It burnt with its brightness.”

Alec flexes his hand under the table, the swelling already receding but the pain still lingering in the flesh.

“I love the snow,” Asmodeus continues. “As it gently falls, it seems to cover not just the physical landscape, but also the deep spiritual abyss that lies hidden beneath the surface of our souls.”

Alec swallows around the tightness in his throat as his heart beats violently in his chest. ‘He's just fishing in muddy waters, hoping to make me crack in front of Magnus, to sow distrust between us,’ Alec reminds himself. He glances at his husband, checking his reaction to Asmodeus’ seemingly offhand remark. Magnus is clearly holding his tongue, his whole body tense like a bowstring, ready to shoot.

“Edom is beautiful in white,” Alec states.

“So were you,” Asmodeus says without missing a beat.

“Enough!” Magnus demands. Asmodeus raises his eyebrows in silence, nursing his wine for a long stretched moment.

“I agree,” he says calmly. Alec can hear the fire burning underneath. So does Magnus as he straightens minutely.

“Alec and I, we will live by our own rules. No more interfering,” he says matter-of-factly.

“You can't blame a father for trying,” Asmodeus says. “I only have your well-being on my mind.”

“As if!”

“You better watch your tone,” Asmodeus hisses.

“Or what?” Magnus asks, pushing his chin forward in clear defiance.

“Or you will regret it.”

“I doubt that very much,” Magnus says. “All I will regret is giving you the time of day.” He rises from his seat, throwing his cloth napkin on the table. “Alexander, we're leaving.”

“You will not!” Asmodeus booms. “Sit down!”

“I'm not a child anymore, longing for your poisonous love. You can't hurt me any longer.”

Asmodeus’ jaw sets in a way Alec knows too well. The king's silence cuts through his bones, punches the air out of his lungs. Their fate – whatever it may be – has just been sealed.

Magnus stretches out his hand, Alec's fingers weaving into it without a conscious thought. He'll go down with Magnus if need be.

They walk out of the dining hall through the long corridors to the entrance where their driver is waiting.

“Are you okay?” Alec asks when the car door closes behind them.

Magnus exhales slowly. “I don't know,” he says, his hand tightening in Alec's. “I don't know what he will do to me to punish me for my disobedience.”

“What's the worst he could do? You're the Prince of Edom. Your people love you.”

“Yes,” Magnus breathes. “That might be my only saving grace.”

Chapter Text

Magnus slumps into the chair. He studies his reflection in the mirror of his vanity table. He's looking tired. His father always manages to get under his skin. Magnus would be infuriated if he weren't so god-damn drained. Today was a lot, and the nausea that has been spreading through him since the moment his father started playing games hasn't ceased yet.

He reaches for the picture of his mother, fingers trailing over her beautiful face. If it weren't for this photograph, would he even remember her features? He's not so sure. He was so young when she died.

“You look so much like her,” Alec says, his voice wrapping warmly around Magnus’ aching heart.

Magnus quirks a sad smile. “Small blessings,” he murmurs.

“Wanna tell me about her?” Alec asks. It makes Magnus’ heart swell with longing. How he wishes she was still here. She would have been able to help Magnus be a better husband and Alec to find his standing at court. She would have loved him so much, would have been the mother his husband deserves. But she's not here anymore to guide them, to love them unconditionally.

“She had the most assuring smile and arms that could protect you from the cruelty of the world,” Magnus says. That's his truth, at least.

“Just like you then,” Alec says, walking closer.

Magnus huffs a laugh. “I wish.” He takes the make-up remover and starts his nightly routine. Alec just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching. There's something soothing in his calm, observing presence. It helps Magnus’ brain sort through tonight's events just as much as the familiar routine of gliding the wet pad over his face. If he could just remove this evening as easily as the kohl around his eyes.

His father's attacks are often quiet, unremarkable to unfamiliar ears. Alec did well saying as little as he did. He must be rattled though. Magnus certainly is.

“Can we do gifts in the morning?” Magnus asks. “I'm not really in the right mood for Christmas.”

“Sure. I thought we would do that anyway.”

“Oh,” Magnus says. “We never really talked about your customs. I apologise.”

Alec clicks his tongue. “Nah, it's alright. It's Christmas Eve in Idris, too. My mom just liked the American way.”

“Did she now?”

“Stockings don't fit that many presents,” Alec chuckles. Magnus rolls his eyes. Shadowhunters and their love for scarcity. Or is it just the Lightwoods who are so fond of not spoiling their kids? But no. He remembers that necklace Isabelle wore to one of his soirees. She said it was a birthday gift from her father.

“What was usually in them?” Magnus asks. Alec's responding shrug tells him everything there is to know.

“Last year, Max got a ticket to an anime convention.”

“And you?”

“I got cufflinks.”

“Those with the flames?” Magnus guesses. They are the only cufflinks Magnus saw Alec unpacking. His husband has yet to wear them.

“They used to be my grandfather's, on dad's side,” Alec explains. “I wore them at Jace's wedding. Flames are a Lightwood insignia.”

“That must have meant a lot to you,” Magnus says. Alec hums in agreement.

“Present shopping is surprisingly difficult for you,” Magnus says. It was humiliating, really. How was he supposed to top his birthday present? His man asks for nothing, not even the bare minimum.

“Look who's talking,” Alec chuckles.

“I imagine it's a feat as I have everything I need right here,” Magnus says, smiling brightly at Alec through the mirror.

“Yeah, what to get someone who owns all the beautiful things in the world?” Alec says.

Magnus suppresses a sigh. Why is their communication sometimes perfect, and then, they have talks like this where he can't get across what he wants?

“I meant you, Alexander,” he says bluntly. The corners of Alec's lips twitch nervously. Magnus can see that he doesn't believe him. He probably isn't able to. Magnus doesn't blame him. As much as they're both trying, they're still walking on thin ice at times. How long did he ponder adding something playful and sexy under the Christmas tree, deciding against it out of fear of Alec possibly thinking Magnus finds him insufficient or doesn't want to be intimate with him any longer? Magnus has never worried about such a thing in his life, never had to. His partners always knew how much he desired them.

“All those beautiful things are nothing if one can't share them with someone,” Magnus says.

“You have plenty of people to share your life with.”

Magnus does release a sigh now, if only to let out some of the pressure building in his chest.

“I do. And yet, you have a special place amongst them.”

Alec huffs a laugh. “You're right,” he says, his eyes vulnerable in the trust they hold. “Do you wanna visit her?”

“Who?”

“Your mom.”

Magnus blinks at him, unsure what to make of the question. He turns his face back to the mirror, his heart beating a little faster.

“Why would you ask that?”

Alec shrugs, hands hidden behind his back as so often. It makes the movement of his shoulders just more pronounced.

“You haven't been to her grave in all the time we've been married. I don't wanna keep her from you or you from her.”

“She's been dead for a very long time, Alexander.”

“But you miss her,” Alec says. It's so matter-of-factly it smashes through Magnus like a wrecking ball.

“I do,” he confesses. “But it's Christmas Eve. There are nicer things to do than visiting a graveyard.”

“Whatever you need,” Alec says.

“What is it you need, my love?”

Alec quirks a smile. “You. In whichever way I can have you.”

Magnus nods, studying his bare face. A sudden realisation hits him. He might dissolve without his husband's help.

“Could you hold me tonight?” he asks.

“Always,” Alec says, his warm hands settling on his shoulders. Magnus lets out a ragged breath.

“I should know how to banish him by now,” he says quietly.

“You won't have to do that on your own any longer.” The words sound so simple but they fill Magnus with warmth.

“We won't have such private dinners with him anymore,” he promises.

“Good,” Alec states. “You deserve better.”

“We deserve better, Alexander. He's done so much damage to our marriage.”

“Well, we won't let him use us as tokens any longer. We'll be forging our own destiny.”

“Hear, hear,” Magnus says, brushing away a stray tear.

“Let's go to bed,” Alec suggests. “Today was a lot.”

Magnus nods and takes Alec's offered hand before he gets up. He lets him loosen his cravat, opening the buttons of his waistcoat and dress shirt. Alec touches his clothes with so much reverence, Magnus can't help but think he's unwrapping a valuable present. When he's undressed him fully, Alec reaches for his pyjama bottoms, but Magnus aborts his movement.

“Could we just… sleep like this?” he asks. Alec huffs a surprised laugh but he nods, lifting the bed spread for Magnus to slip underneath into the cosy warmth.

Magnus watches as Alec undresses himself, fewer garments taking surprisingly long to disappear. Nonetheless, he enjoys the view. Alec is gorgeous, the mix of hard training and good food starting to pay off. His back and butt look devine, like sculptured by Michelangelo himself.

Alec sits down on the edge of the bed, putting down Magnus’ bracelet last. He always does. It's such a small gesture. It means the world to Magnus that he always wears his wedding gift, even if it's sometimes hidden under clothes. Alec is his, wants to be his from dusk till dawn and from dawn till dusk, too. Their marriage is public but their bond, their love isn't. This here, this is pure. This is what will carry them through hardship and challenges. There is trust between them, not fully blossomed yet but already beautiful.

Alec switches off the bedside lamp and pulls Magnus into his arms, his chest a warm cushion and his steady heartbeat a guide for his own.

“Tomorrow,” Magnus whispers into the night.

“What?” Alec asks, his breath a gentle breeze in Magnus’ hair.

“I'll take you to my mother tomorrow.”

Alec squeezes him closer and presses a kiss into his hair.

“I've never taken anyone there,” Magnus says, quiet as if it were a secret. Alec's hold on him tightens a little more.

“You don't have to,” Alec says.

“I want you to meet her. She'd be so happy for us.”

Alec doesn't say anything after that, just caresses Magnus’ back in a steady rhythm, lulling him into peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

Magnus nuzzles into the warm skin of Alec's neck. He's still half-asleep, thinking it a mirage of his imagination. But it sure isn't, he realises, as dream Alec starts chuckling from the tickling feeling.

“Good morning, babe. Merry Christmas,” he says. Magnus pries his eyes open. With everything happening last night, they haven't said that yet.

“Merry Christmas, Alexander,” he murmurs, finding Alec's lips. His husband presses back eagerly. He surely has been awake for a while now, since his usual time probably. But he stayed, didn't go to the gym. There might only be one wrapped gift under the Christmas tree waiting for him, but Magnus senses there will be way more non-wrapped ones scattered across the day. Alec is a natural romantic, not one to plan big things but showing up with little gestures. Magnus has never felt more cherished and loved.

Oh, how much has changed since last year, when he spent a quiet morning on his own, trying to rein in the thoughts of a looming marriage of convenience. Little did he know he'd wake up next to someone he truly loves and desires.

Magnus snuggles closer, the warmth of Alec's skin seeping into his own. Magnus is a sucker for it. He just knows that this won't ever grow old. Not even with Alec's stomach growling.

Magnus chuckles. “What does a Lightwood eat for Christmas breakfast?” he asks teasingly. Alec's hunger has skyrocketed over the past few days. Despite his guilty look when Magnus shared his delight about it, Magnus still can't find fault in enjoying the sight of his finally properly eating spouse. His worry was bigger than he thought, but Isabelle turned out to be right.

“I decided to make French toast,” Alec replies.

“What?” Magnus pulls back and scrutinises Alec's face. Did he hear him right?

“I fear that's the only breakfast staple I can manage without affronting your taste buds,” Alec says, chuckling.

“We have my personal chef at our disposal, Alexander.”

There's a wee pause before Alec confesses, “I gave him the morning off. He prepared a few things in case you don't like the idea of me cooking but…”

Magnus gapes at him.

“That… is very generous of you.”

“I just thought he'd surely prefer spending that time with his family instead of being at our beck and call. He'll be back to prepare dinner. He said you had something special planned?”

“I have. And French toast sounds incredible.”

“Don't set your expectations too high. It's nothing special,” Alec chuckles.

“It is. For me. I can't remember the last time… You're something else.”

“I'm just me.”

Magnus hums in agreement. And what a wonderful man his Alexander is. Also, mischief and plotting suit him.

“So… Kitchen?” Magnus asks, his stomach full of butterflies.

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.”

Alec grins at Magnus who is sitting on the worktop of the industrial style kitchen. This is beautifully weird. Magnus truly has no qualms when it comes to showing off his body. While Alec dutifully put on his new designer sweats and the tee Isabelle gave him for his last birthday, Magnus is sporting his usual silk combo. Not that Alec would complain. Magnus’ chest alone is worth probably making a fool of himself.

But no. His French toast even made his mother proud. God, he wishes thoughts like that wouldn't penetrate his mind anymore. She has no power over him, whatsoever. Not in the real world. His mind is a whole other thing, however.

“I didn't see much of England,” he says, flipping the toast in the pan.

“Competing in Nottingham must have been fun, given the history around Robin Hood,” Magnus muses.

“We took a picture at the statue of him at Nottingham Castle. I’d love to return and get a tour. It looked really nice.”

Magnus hums in acknowledgement. “We'll visit England at some point, so maybe something could be arranged,” he states.

“That won’t be necessary,” Alec hastens to say. He should really be more careful about voicing his thoughts. Their schedule has been fixed since before their wedding day.

“Speaking of pictures,” Magnus says. “You haven't put up any, save for that one sibling photo.”

Alec huffs a laugh. It's a nice one from Jace's wedding. It's stashed away in his quarters, standing on his desk.

“I wanted to ask you for one of you,” Alec says, unsure why his cheeks are heating up. He knows that Magnus has one of them at their betrothal/first wedding standing on his. It's probably one by the court photographer. Alec hasn't dared ask Magnus about it. The topic of their spoiled wedding day is still a sensitive one.

“That's not what I was alluding to, but that can be arranged, of course,” Magnus says, smiling gently at him.

“Are you always that cryptic?” Alec asks, somewhat amused.

“My apologies. I'm not being cryptic on purpose. You are a straight talker.”

Alec's face glitches. That could mean so many things, only a few of them in his favour. Magnus seems to sense his thoughts. “And that's a good thing,” he adds.

“I'm not used to sugar-coating things,” Alec says.

“It's not sugar-coating to wrap topics into a conversation that is open and not pointed to a certain outcome, my love.”

“I suppose,” Alec allows, suppressing a sigh. The air has shifted between them. Why can't it be easy for once? How did they end up here from talking about his participation at the European Archery Championships? There are so few exciting things Alec can talk about compared to Magnus with his worldwide travels and all the shenanigans he's been up to. Alec's life has been bleak in comparison. But he's trying to show off what he has. Magnus always delights in his stories, boring as they might seem to others.

“I just noticed that you don't take up space in the apartment,” Magnus says, those kind eyes boring into Alec.

“Well, it's your apartment,” Alec states matter-of-factly.

“It's your home, too, Alexander.”

Alec shrugs in a feeble attempt to get rid of the tension building in his shoulders.

“I've got my own rooms.”

“Which you rarely use lately.”

That's true. He reads the newspapers from Magnus’ assortment, and unlike Magnus’ assistant coming to his study, Alec gets his briefings at Tessa's office. It feels better to keep business out of his private space. It's weird enough to find his outfits for the day prepared for him, the laundry disappearing as if by magic, breakfast being served as if he were living in a hotel…

“It's nice being at your place,” he mutters, busying himself with piling the French toast on their plates.

Magnus’ lips curl into a smile. “I was just wondering if you'd like to add something to the photo gallery.”

Alec thinks about the pictures of little Magnus on his mother's arms, with baby Madzie on his at her christening, the many smiley faces of friends from all around the world, some he hasn't even met yet. No, he probably has but can't remember meeting them. They must have been there for Magnus’ big day.

“I don't have any other pictures,” he says.

“Well, that could be changed. The national archive has put together a portfolio of you.”

Alec gapes at him. “A portfolio?” he croaks.

“Every member of the royal family has one. Our Christmas pictures are the latest addition.”

Alec nods, his stomach clenching.

“What else would be in mine?”

“Likely everything that is in the public domain. Your tournament wins, Olympia for sure, likely pictures of you as a cadet, maybe higher rank pics if Idris provides those. I'm sure they asked your parents for childhood photos.”

Alec nods. His whole past is at the Palace's fingertips. They probably have that picture at Nottingham Castle, too. Nothing is private anymore. He knew that on a conscious level, but it's hard to really fathom it.

“Who has access to it?” he asks.

“Only PR.”

Alec nods. Just another reason not to change their England plans. They probably would post that old picture alongside new ones.

“These are officers working for the Crown,” Magnus says.

“They'll do with it what's best for Edom,” Alec replies.

“Of course.”

Which will not always be what's best for Alec. But he offered his soul to the people, his past is part and parcel of that. He'll always just be the trans prince. He needs to accept that. It's the whole narrative of his life now. He can't outrun himself as he used to. He will never be just another guy again, not in the public eye. He's seen the travel plans. Tessa talked him through them. There's not a single state visit where queer groups and organisations aren't part of the schedule. Yes, they are a gay couple, but would that still be a focus if he were cis? Maybe, maybe not.

“So… what's your answer?” Magnus asks.

Alec sighs. “Maybe we can add pictures of us over time?”

Magnus looks irritated for a moment, then he nods. “Whatever suits you, Alexander.”

“What suits me is digging into this,” Alec says, lifting their plates. He's grateful that Magnus isn't pushing. He probably thought it was a kind gesture, but him pre-transition in tight athletic wear or, even worse, ball gowns and frilly toddler dresses? No. That's nothing Alec needs to see on a day to day basis. But those are the only pictures his mother kept on her walls. Alec very much doubts that she passed on pictures from the father-and-sons fishing trip Robert took him to once. He had worn a binder then for the very first time, caught his first fish. After that, there haven't been many pictures taken by his mother, their family's record keeper. And friends? The closest he had were his fellow athletes. He won't put up photos of his parabatai who dropped him like a hot potato, and she's pretty much in every picture of his adolescence.

No, that siblings’ photo is the only one dear to his heart. Maybe he'll just move it over to make Magnus happy. It'll look displaced between the other frames. But they're building a life together, and Magnus is right. This is his home now. He is Alec's home now.

“I told them to set the table in the sunroom,” Alec says. Magnus beams at him. Yeah, Alec's breakfast plans were a good idea.

Chapter Text

The weight of Alec's hand on his shoulder is grounding. The sight of his mother's grave shouldn't be so unsettling for Magnus. It's been literally decades. But who decides what is the right way to process grief? The feeling is too familiar—the way your body aches and your soul yearns for a love that can't be answered anymore, just lived unreciprocated.

Magnus brushes away the snow covering his mother's picture on the gravestone. She was younger than Alec when it was taken, her smile as brilliant as Magnus can't remember ever seeing in real life. Unbridled joy is carved into her features. It was before she married his father, before he broke her. Yes, Magnus has happy memories of her, but there was always a graveness behind her eyes.

“Why is it in Indonesian?” Alec asks. Magnus smiles to himself. It still warms his heart that Alec studied the language.

“Because I replaced the headstone my father put here. It didn't befit him to mark her life in the language he used to belittle her in. I made sure he understood that he had no say about her anymore whatsoever.”

“You're very protective of her,” Alec states.

“I tried to protect her when she was still alive… but I couldn't. And then, I betrayed her memory.”

“You were a boy.”

Magnus works his jaw. “I knew my father was the reason why she ended her life, but I still sought his closeness after.”

“Again. You were just a boy.”

Magnus huffs a laugh. It doesn't hold any humour. “I suppose you know what it's like to accept poisonous love in fear of not receiving any.”

Alec hums in confirmation, his hand tightening around Magnus’ shoulder.

“We did what we had to survive,” Alec says. Magnus glances at his husband's face, the bobbing of Alec's throat as he processes the truth he already knew but never spoke out loud.

Magnus nods, guiding his eyes back to his mother's portrait. “I wanna remember her like this,” he says. “Happy and carefree. We had moments like that, after we moved out of the castle and into the palace. But the reach of my father is far. You can never fully escape him.”

“He's the king,” Alec agrees.

“I didn't protect you from him, either, but I will, Alexander. I won't make the same mistake again.”

“Neither will I.”

Magnus turns his head. “What do you mean?”

“I won't ever question your intentions again. You're trying to make our marriage work, with all the challenges and shortcomings.”

“Challenges, yes. Shortcomings? I don't see any.”

Alec huffs a laugh as if in surprise. Magnus’ heart clenches in his chest.

“I love you,” he says, hoping that those three words hold everything Alec needs to know.

“I love you, too,” Alec replies and wraps his arms around him, his chest pressing supportively into Magnus’ back as he hooks his chin over his shoulder. Magnus allows him to take a bit of his weight, rubbing his cheek against Alec's as they look at the grave in silence. He doesn't know how long Asmodeus will keep away from them. He has no doubt that his father is going to plot another attack on his marriage. Happiness has always anchored Magnus in his resolve to keep a distance. This isn't the first relationship his father torpedoed. But it'll be his last, and he and Alec will come out on top. So much, he knows.

“Serve the tea at our place, please,” Magnus says and walks down to their front door that already stands open. He smiles at Alec's back, his husband watching the snowflakes falling through the French windows. It's not the first time that Magnus thinks Alec fits in here so well, as if he had always meant to. Maybe he has.

The door closes behind Magnus, and he steps into the walk-through room, heading towards his husband. But he stalls. Something isn't right. His eyes scan his surroundings, and it hits him.

There aren't many things his servants aren't allowed to touch. It is their job to keep everything tidy and clean. But the cabinets in this part of the apartment, his bedside tables and the drawers of his desk are taboo for anyone but him. This is where he keeps things, no one is allowed to see. But one of the doors isn't closed properly. It's an easy mistake for anyone snooping. It only keeps closed when the key is turned, and Magnus would never…

Did he forget when Alec surprised him by returning earlier the other day? Did Alec check on what he was hiding in there?

A mixture of feelings swirls through Magnus’ stomach, pulling it tight. Technically, this is Alec's home, too. Magnus didn't prohibit him from opening it. Magnus simply forgot to set rules in place. He would laugh if he weren't so disturbed. It would be hypocritical to deny Alec access. Yes, spouses can have secrets, but a wall cabinet full of them? That's not feasible.

Magnus pushes the door closed and turns the key, pondering what to do. If Alec did snoop, why hasn't he mentioned his findings yet? With his inexperience in all things sex, he should have a million questions. Or did he just open the door but decided against closer inspection? How is Magnus supposed to find out? He can hardly walk over and ask, ‘Hey, what do you think about the collection of sex toys I bought while preparing for our wedding?’

He was so naive back then. He thought they would navigate that part of their life playfully, possibly with ease. Alec was so willing to sleep with him that night at the beach. Magnus didn't expect to fuck it up like that. But he did. He. Mr Communication Is Key. What was he thinking, going with the flow?

It was the romantic in him, the small part that still believes in fairytales and love at first sight, a love that withstands everything and that makes everything easy. But love doesn't fix everything. Relationships still take effort, especially when one or both partners have special circumstances.

Magnus wets his lips and joins Alec, a branch of the Christmas tree pricking into his arm. The landscape looks peaceful, all covered in snow. Magnus releases a quiet sigh and shares a gentle smile with his husband. No, this isn't the right moment to break the topic. Alec will come to him if he needs to talk. It's probably nothing anyway.

“I can't wait to see the garden in bloom,” Alec muses.

“Oh, it's gorgeous. Some of the rose breeds are older than Edom.”

“You like roses?”

Magnus’ lips curl into a smile. “Especially the old English ones that my mother planted.”

“I'm not familiar with those,” Alec says. “I'm looking forward to seeing them.”

“I'll give you a tour,” Magnus promises. “But now… presents?”

The question makes Alec blush.

“You'll be so disappointed,” he chuckles.

“Never. It's always the thought that counts the most. Do you wanna start or shall I?”

“You,” Alec decides.

Magnus flashes him a grin and pulls the gift bag from underneath the Christmas tree. He settles on the sofa, tapping the free cushion next to him when Alec stays in his soldier stance. He pulls Alec into a kiss first, a bit of the tension in Alec's body bleeding out with it. Mission accomplished. Partially.

“I know it's not your tradition. I just thought…” Alec trails off when Magnus runs his fingers over the rich, golden embroidery of a black Christmas stocking with his name stitched on it in fine lettering.

“We don't have to hang them up,” Alec says.

“Them?” Magnus asks, looking up from his gift.

“Yeah. Izzy gave me mine when we were in New York.”

“You didn't say.”

Alec shrugs. “It's more nostalgia than anything.”

“Is it your childhood stocking?”

Alec hums in confirmation. He chuckles. “It's a bit crooked as Izzy took out the old stitches when I changed my name. My grandmother had made them when we were kids, and not one of us had learnt how to cross-stitch, but Izzy refused to have my old name hanging from the fireplace. It was so sweet, I never asked for it to be replaced.”

Magnus nods, tears standing in his eyes. No matter the grudge he's still harbouring, he sees now why Alec can't allow anger to take over. There are too many good memories keeping him afloat.

“This is such a thoughtful gift. Thank you, Alexander.”

“There's one more,” Alec says, nodding at the stocking.

“Oh,” Magnus replies and fishes a small jewellery box out of it.

“I know this was a risky buy, so if you don't like it…”

Magnus rolls his eyes. He knows it isn't fair but he can't help it. He opens the box quickly, smiling at the flamed ear cuff.

“I'd hoped this was subtle enough,” Alec says.

“Do I strike you as a subtle person?” Magnus asks, raising an amused eyebrow.

“No,” Alec says, “just… the Lightwood crest… You don't have to wear it if you don't like it.”

“I love it.”

“You do?”

Magnus breathes a sigh. “Yes, of course, I do. It's beautiful, and exactly my style. Put it on me,” he orders, more giddy than he expected to be. Yes, it's not a rune on his hand, but Alec wants to show everyone that Magnus is his family now and he Magnus’.

Alec clamps the cuff cautiously around the shell of Magnus’ ear, a shy smile growing on his lips when it's done.

“I think it suits you.”

“I'm sure it does. I will check it out later. Now, it's your turn.”

Alec chuckles. Magnus isn't really happy with his choices, but he still hopes that Alec will like what he got him. Like the soft navy blue cashmere jumper or the Cartier watch. And then, there's that small box, of course, the one hidden behind the bigger parcels to be opened last. Will it bring joy or sadness? Magnus isn't so sure.

“This is too much,” Alec says, staring at the wristwatch that is likely more valuable than all of Alec's belongings when he arrived in Edom counted together.

“You are a royal now, Alexander. Don't get me wrong, but there's a reason why Tessa always takes away your watch during official meetings.”

Alec nods in understanding.

“Thank you,” he says, always a good boy playing by the rules.

“If it's not your style…” Magnus says. He did choose the simplest one. He knows Alec is a modest person.

“It's gorgeous,” Alec says and puts it on his wrist. It fits him perfectly.

“One more gift to go,” Magnus says, his heartbeat taking up a notch.

Alec chuckles, shaking his head. “You're spoiling me.”

“That's my job as your husband,” Magnus smirks.

Alec huffs a laugh and rips the wrapping paper open. His face glitches as soon as the box underneath comes into view.

“How…?” Alec trails off.

“My assistant helped,” Magnus says. “She's the best researcher in the Northern hemisphere.”

Alec opens the box, running his fingers over his Olympic medal.

“How does it still exist?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“The pawnbroker said he would send it off for smelting as it wasn't worth more than the metal value.”

“And you still let him take it?”

“It was that or cancelling my top surgery.”

“No one could lend you that money?”

Alec snorts a laugh.

“Isabelle? Jace?”

“Izzy is always broke, and Jace was planning his wedding.”

“So, your parents had money for him but not for you?”

“Idris Royals aren't rich, Magnus. They took the money from my dowry. It was a small wedding.”

“They took your dowry and gave it to Jace?!”

“Clary didn't have one, and they needed money to start their life together.”

“What about you?”

“What about me? I didn't need money for marriage. I would have married a widow who already had a household, and who I would have wed in the registry office. It's thanks to you that I even had a ceremony.”

Magnus gapes at him, all the words trying to spill out of him blocking his mouth. He gets up, staring at the snow still falling outside. How can Alec not see the utter disrespect of his whole family?

“And Jace accepted that reasoning?” Magnus asks, the picture of his brother-in-law reshaping as he speaks.

“Jace doesn't know.”

Magnus swirls around. “Where did he think the money came from?”

“Mom and Dad, of course,” Alec replies, sounding as if he wanted to add a ‘duh’ to it.

“Alexander,” Magnus presses out. “Don't you see the injustice of that?”

“I won't discuss this,” Alec bites.

“Why not?”

“Because it wouldn't change a thing.”

“Of course, it would. If you had gotten the money then, you could have spent it.”

“I'm a frugal person.”

“So frugal that your new credit card only has two charges so far, am I right?” Magnus presses out. Alec works his jaw. It's answer enough.

“Alexander, these people made you feel as if you were worth nothing. You had to sell your Olympic medal to pay for a life-saving surgery.”

“No. I sold it for elective surgery. I had binders and tape at my disposal.”

“You had dysphoria.”

“So, you're the expert now or what? Just because you're reading all those trans books?”

Magnus gapes at him. “I try to learn, to understand you.”

“You won't learn a thing about me in these books, Magnus. They aren't my reality. The queer movement, the fight for trans rights, the history of trans people… Do you know how many other trans people I met before we got married?”

Magnus shakes his head.

“One. The other guy in my hospital room. He had just turned eighteen. His father drove him to the clinic and hugged him before he went into the theatre. His girlfriend sat by his bedside until she was asked to leave for the night. She and his mother picked him up in the morning.

“I had to travel alone, had to sneak into my room through a side entrance so that no one would ask questions. Without Izzy, I would have had to live off protein bars and energy drinks because I wasn't allowed to eat in the mess hall until I could resume my duties. And I complied because I knew this was all I was worth. I was granted my transition under the prerequisite that a few years down the road, no one would know or even so much as wonder if I was born a girl. With our wedding, I broke the rules.

“I know you want me to be bigger than that, a proud trans icon, but I'm not. The surgery was the only selfish thing I had ever done before stepping out of that crowd, forcing you to choose me. My life was doomed the moment I realised I was trans, and my fate was sealed the second I came out to my parents. I knew that I would lose my standing, I knew that I would have to live a lie for the rest of my life, trying to atone for the shame I brought to my family.”

“Alexander!” Magnus interrupts him, his heart broken in a million different ways. “You didn't force me, and you didn't bring anything to your family,” Magnus protests. “They shamed you for being your authentic self. Which is unfair because you being you is such a gift.”

Alec scoffs.

“It is,” Magnus insists.

Alec shakes his head. “That's easy for you to say. You grew up, knowing you could marry whoever you loved. Not everyone has that privilege.”

“I know. Believe me, Alexander, I know.”

“Then don't judge me for what I had to do to get to this day. I don't need the money. I don't need odds and ends. I married the man I love. That's the richest I'll ever be.”

Alec's words punch the air out of Magnus’ lungs.

“I'm sorry. It's just… I hate injustice, and I hate seeing the man I love being mistreated. You deserved more.”

“I appreciate your concern, Magnus, but it's my life, and it is what it is. I got two weeks off duty for my surgery. I had Izzy taking care of me as best as she could. I got to be in this body the day we met.” Alec shrugs. “Can you just be happy for me?”

Magnus exhales slowly. “Of course, I am. I'm sorry.”

Alec nods. “You care. I know you do. I just want things to finally be easy between us. I wanna leave the past behind and live in the present.”

Magnus stares at the now closed cabinet door.

“I want that, too,” he says, stretching out his hand. Alec gets up from the sofa and laces their fingers together.

“Thank you for all the wonderful gifts. I truly appreciate the love and care that went into choosing them,” Alec says.

“So do I,” Magnus replies. Alec quirks a broken smile, likely comparing their gifts. Magnus doesn't let him sink into it. He nudges his nose against Alec's, their lips finding each other with ease. All those fights and struggles are exhausting. And still, one truth prevails—they always find their way back to each other. And maybe, that's the biggest gift of all.

Chapter Text

“What are you looking at?” Magnus asks, startling Alec out of his virtual rabbit hole.

“Nothing,” Alec croaks as he switches off his old tablet and puts it down on the bedside table. His ears grow even warmer than they were just a moment ago. A glance of appraisal hits him when he meets Magnus’ gaze. His husband rubs hand lotion into his skin without calling him out. He seems to ponder letting Alec's clear lie go or pressing for the truth. Alec wets his lips. He knows he looks guilty, the memory of Magnus’ private collection and the disappeared pictures on his screen stirring too many contradicting emotions in his guts. Fascination and dread are still battling inside of him. Now, shame joins them with a vengeance.

“I…” Alec starts but trails off. He shouldn't be so nervous. Not with Magnus. He never gave him a reason to be ashamed of who he is, of how he looks. He'd probably love what Alec has to say. But what if Alec hates it? Or Magnus?

Magnus sits down on the edge of their bed, his leg brushing against Alec's. His eyes are warm, quiet anticipation swimming in them. He arches a questioning eyebrow.

“I did something I'm not proud of,” Alec says and grabs his tablet, waking the screen. He pushes the device into Magnus’ hand. He wouldn't even know what to say to explain all this. But hiding won't do either of them any good. This has been eating at him for days.

Magnus takes in the result of Alec's research. “You're referring to going through that cabinet?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Alec croaks. He doesn't ask how Magnus knows. He probably put one of the boxes back wrong. And he doesn't want to hear Magnus telling him he needed a fix for what Alec hasn't been able to give him. The truth is devastating enough.

“The other day,” Alec says, “you seemed unhappy with me not buying anything for myself. I didn't want to fight about it, but you paid for all my new clothes, and I don't need anything, really.” He wets his lips. “But I thought, maybe a new packer would be nice.”

Magnus looks up from the screen with a surprised look on his face.

“Back in the day, I bought the cheapest I could find,” Alec explains. “I didn't even get it from a specialised shop, just…”

Magnus nods in understanding.

“I didn't know there were packers to pee standing up or…” Alec swallows hard, his throat suddenly desert dry.

“...for sex,” Magnus ends his sentence. Alec nods, lips a thin line.

“I guess you miss it, huh? With all the boxes in your cabinet,” Alec presses around the heart in his mouth.

Magnus gapes at him for a long moment. “Those toys are all new, Alexander. I bought them for you.”

“For me?” Alec croaks. He doesn't understand. To stretch him open, to train? Alec tries to rein in the panic that wants to squash his heart. No! Magnus wouldn't force him. He wouldn't!

“I know I went a little overboard and that I should've asked you before,” Magnus continues, “but I thought it was nice to have things here to start with if you were interested and build a collection from there.”

“A collection,” Alec says flatly. Magnus knew all along that he'd be disappointed with their sex life. Did he not sleep with him back in the summer due to that?

“Alexander, what's going through your mind right now?” Magnus asks, the gentle touch of his hand cupping Alec's cheek cutting through his thoughts.

The frown on Alec's forehead grows deeper. “That you should have married someone who could offer you what you want,” he mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“A cock to fuck you or a vagina that enjoys taking you.”

Magnus’ mouth falls open, hurt and disbelief washing over his face before he schools it. “Do you think so little of me that stuff like that would play any role in me choosing a partner?”

Alec flinches at the sound of his voice. Magnus doesn't only sound hurt, he sounds devastated.

“I didn't mean…” Alec says, groaning in frustration with himself. “I just feel so useless when it comes to our sex life.”

“Useless?” Magnus asks, clearly flabbergasted. “Several times so far, you have liquefied my brain. The last time, I thought you'd have to carry me out of the shower after.” He puts the tablet to the side, eyes single-focused on Alec. It feels like a caress.

“Toys are there to enhance sexual pleasure, Alexander. That doesn't mean that we need them. Maybe they could help with your bottom dysphoria. That was on the forefront of my mind. But if they make you feel worse about your body, they'll go into the trash. You are enough, Alexander. Your body – as is – is enough. I just wanted to share this with you. Not because your hands or your mouth don't suffice, but because I wanna make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“You never mentioned them before,” Alec says. Magnus’ words make sense but why hide them when they aren't just for his own pleasure?

“Because first, I was enjoying what we had, and when it turned out that you hated it—”

Alec groans. “I told you that that's not completely true.”

“Okay… that you hated everything I did to you, I just… I had no right to push anything on you.”

Alec's mouth runs dry. That explains so much. How screwed they are—Magnus afraid to try things with him, he too worried not to be enough. It's a catch 22.

“I wanna try new things, it's just that I…” Alec doesn't know how to voice the ball of poisonous lead lying heavily in the pit of his stomach.

“You can tell me everything,” Magnus says, lacing their fingers together. The touch is grounding, serving Alec as a source of strength. He can be brave. This is Magnus, after all.

“I wanna know what it's like to fuck you. You were so responsive in the shower,” Alec says. He wishes he could have seen Magnus’ face. He sounded so hot, his whole body shaking in Alec's arms. Alec felt like he was on top of the world at that moment.

“But?” Magnus probes.

Alec exhales raggedly. “But… it's just a fake dick, and I don't know how it'll feel for you or for me.”

Magnus hums in understanding. “I can tell you that it would feel really good on my side. And before I bought the toys, I did my research. I chose items that take the pleasure of the wearer into account.”

“How do you know it feels good for you?” Alec asks, because he won't risk a dysphoria attack for the vague chance of making Magnus come. He knows that he can do it in other ways, and if that's really enough for Magnus, then…

“You really wanna know?” Magnus asks. Alec nods, even though he probably doesn't. But he needs to.

“Not only trans men use these things. Some cis women do, too,” Magnus explains.

Alec's eyes grow wide. “Really? And you… you did that? With a woman?”

“Yes. It's called pegging, and it's very enjoyable. For me, at least.”

Alec waits for a wave of jealousy, but it doesn't come. Instead, a small seed of hope is slowly loosening up his chest.

“Does it compare to the real deal?” he asks.

“It is the real deal. It is sex. Beautiful, intimate, hot sex between two lovers.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. He doesn't sound annoyed, though. “Does it feel like a cis dick? No. Does it feel less good? Also no. Just different. And bonus point: It comes exactly in the form and size we want,” he smirks.

Alec laughs out loud. “I was wondering what the right size to order would be. Is bigger better?”

“Not necessarily. Do you want me to show you what's on offer right now? Maybe getting a feel for it? We can still order something else.”

Alec nods, a look of determination settling on his face. God, he's gonna die of embarrassment, but he hopes it will be all worth it.

Chapter Text

Alec smiles through the weirdness of it. He's just glad that Magnus is a prince who protects his privacy. If a servant would be allowed to storm in at any moment, Alec would be dying a little more inside than he already is.

It's grotesque. And funny. Alec hasn't seen so many dicks in his life, much less draped across his bed. He listens to Magnus’ explanations, tries to filter out which option Magnus is most intrigued by. He can't. Well, the one in his hand, probably. It's just an inkling though.

“Is it an STP?”* Alec asks.

“No,” Magnus replies. “It's a hard packer.”

Alec hums in acknowledgement. This is all upside down. He should be the one knowing all that stuff. A part of him is sinking into shame. He hadn't even allowed himself to be curious about options. He'd stumbled over the word “packer”, ordered the cheapest he could find, and never wasted another thought on it. He wanted to be just another guy so badly that his transness didn't play a role from the day he returned to work after top surgery. He tended to his scars as long as needed, but that was part of being a good soldier keeping himself fit for service, not because he thought his body deserved loving attention. It still would be that way if it weren't for Magnus. It's still a struggle if he's absolutely honest with himself.

“What is the hole for then?” he asks, trying to push away the unease pulling his stomach tight.

“Oh, that's…” Magnus wets his lips, a distracting little movement. Alec knows this whole conversation could be sexy and playful. Magnus probably imagined it to be. Alec just can't help being awkward, and that has spread to his not easily flustered husband. But Alec is sitting here, watching Magnus’ fingers trail over the perfectly formed penis with sac and all, and he can't find it in himself to be excited about it. It looks way too realistic in its detachedness. How is this ever supposed to become a part of him?

“There are interchangeable inserts for your bottom growth.” Magnus fishes for a bag. “I got all of them because I imagine they might feel different.”

Alec takes the bag, eyes growing wide at the realisation that the inserts are inspired by human anatomy.

“That's…” Alec trails off. He isn't prepared to have this kind of conversation. He doesn't know what to expect. He isn't sure if he's ready to find out if they feel good for him, too. What if they don't? Would it be enough that they give Magnus pleasure? Would it make things worse?

“Do you have a favourite?” Magnus asks. Alec shakes his head, eyes grazing over the display. His gaze gets caught on a strange looking jockstrap with an elastic cage meant to keep whatever prosthetic he chooses in place. Magnus looks at him expectantly.

“They're all great,” Alec croaks. He should just take one and run with it. They'll likely all do the job.

Magnus doesn't comment on Alec's indecisiveness. He just takes the elastic harness and throws the comforter over the collection.

“C'mere,” he coaxes and takes the bag out of Alec's fidgeting fingers, the inserts disappearing from sight. Alec follows his gently spoken order, feeling instantly better with the gap between them bridged. Magnus cups his cheeks and guides him into a long kiss. Alec's scalp tingles under the brush of his fingertips, small sparks shooting through him as Magnus’ tongue peeks through his lips, asking for entry. They kiss for a while, bodies melting until Alec's back hits the mattress. He doesn't understand Magnus’ magic, doesn't question it. It feels too good.

Magnus presses him down, grounding and hot. His lips leave his own, goosebumps blooming wherever they trail. Alec keeps his eyes closed, tracing the point of contact. He keeps them shut when Magnus stops at the waistband of his pyjama pants.

“May I?” Magnus asks, tugging gently on them. Alec nods, holding tight on the sensations still lingering in his skin. Magnus’ hands run over his naked thighs, his lips following suit. Alec inhales deeply, breathing out through pursed lips. His counsellor taught him that technique when panic had once claimed him during a session. He never returned to the man. He couldn't risk his parents knowing how fragile he truly was. The irony of him doing this while his husband is pushing a garment that can hardly be called underwear over his thighs isn't lost on him. At least Magnus’ mouth is nowhere near his most sensitive parts. Alec doesn't want to push him away. It would likely hurt him.

No, this is good, even though the feeling of something cool and slightly sticky settling between his legs is strange. But his packer feels the same first thing in the morning. His body will warm up the silicone in no time.

Magnus adjusts the packer in silence. His lips are back on Alec's a moment later, kissing him dizzy until he relaxes into the mattress again. There's no time to wonder which model Magnus chose to strap on him. He'll learn soon enough.

After a while, Magnus pulls back, eyes shining with satisfaction and a hint of hunger. God, Alec missed that look on him. He hasn't seen it since he fell pregnant.

“How are you feeling?” Magnus asks.

Alec chuckles. “All tingly.”

Magnus smiles down at him. “Good,” he smirks. “Wanna take a look?” he asks, running his hand over Alec's side. Alec's throat closes with anxious curiosity, so he nods, eyes still stuck on Magnus’ face as his husband rolls off him and snuggles into his side.

“I must say, black suits you in all ways, my love,” Magnus says, running his fingers over the waistband. Alec flashes him a nervous smile.

“Shadowhunters: Looking better in black than the wi—” Alec cuts himself off. Magnus cocks an intrigued eyebrow. “Sorry.” Alec clears his throat. “Just something I heard someone say.” He never questioned Jace's words before. But now, he lies in bed with one of those “enemies”, and he's ashamed that he ever found the line funny.

He looks down at himself, swallowing at the sight of the packer strapped to him seamlessly. It doesn't look out of place as he had expected. It looks like a part of him, wrong and so utterly right at the same time. His heartbeat speeds up a little. He doesn't dare touch it, the optical illusion too nice to destroy it.

“Oh, the furrowed brow,” Magnus says, smoothing it out with a brush of his thumb.

Alec huffs a laugh. “I've never… It looks real.”

“It does, doesn't it?” Magnus smirks and skims his fingers over Alec's stomach. Alec chuckles, shaking his head. This is surreal.

“I thought you'd prefer the leather harness,” he says to distract Magnus from the emotional turmoil wreaking havoc inside of him.

Magnus grins. “I do. But I thought that's more something for the bedroom, don't you think? This is more of an everyday item.”

“You're right. It's just... the leather felt really soft. It's surely great to wear.”

“It's custom made. Just the best for my prince,” Magnus says. “But is this one not comfortable? We can try another one.”

Alec lets out the air in his lungs in a ragged breath. “It's perfectly fine, Magnus.”

Magnus purses his lips, checking the elastic running over the curve of Alec's butt. “If it works for you, I'll order more.”

“Babe, that's…”

“...exactly what you deserve,” Magnus interrupts him. “We are blessed to be able to afford this.”

“Your haul is enough for a showroom, Magnus.”

“Now, you're exaggerating, Alexander. Having several options is always a good thing. So tell me, do this packer and harness feel good?”

Alec relents with a quiet sigh. “It's so much bigger than my old packer. Is it too big?”

Magnus shakes his head. “I think it fits you quite well, very proportional. Wanna take it out for a walk? See if it chafes, if it works for the intended use?”

The intended use.

Alec opens and closes his mouth. He thought they'd have sex now. This is why he pushed through his embarrassment. But Magnus didn't add the insert that would make the packer stiff enough for penetration. And this harness isn't made for the bedroom. So he has to mean the other use.

It should be a thrilling thought. As a young boy he had envied the ease with which other boys could relieve themselves in the wild. He hasn't thought of it for so long, his trips to the bathroom moments of trusted dissociation.

“Alexander?” Magnus probes.

“Um, yeah. We can do that,” Alec replies and puts on his most winsome smile. Magnus really just wants him to feel good. At all times, not just in bed. And if he's honest with himself, the chances outside of it are probably higher. He's still way too tense whenever Magnus’ hands get near his crotch. Yeah, maybe taking their time with this is the better choice, no matter how much Alec longs to see Magnus dissolving into pleasure again. All roads lead to Rome. And maybe this new equipment will make it easier to be naked around Magnus, to fool around without worry that Magnus’ hands might stray. Yeah, this is good. He can feel it.

Chapter Text

Magnus watches Alec intently. His husband has been so utterly quiet since they left through the garden gate leading up to his favourite trail to promenade through the woods near his palace. The treadmarks of the security detail ahead are the only thing breaching the blanket of snow covering it. The people of Edom are not known for heading outdoors in the days between the end of year holidays. But he remembered Izzy's story of how that was a Lightwood tradition after indulging ‘too much’ during the holidays. This won't be a full blown hike, but a nice long stroll through the natural beauty of Edom.

“Are you missing your family?” he asks when the scrunch of snow below their boots grows too loud for his comfort.

Alec looks surprised at him. “No… Yes… I don't know. I feel…” His throat bobs as his eyes look unseeing into the distance. “Tender,” he croaks.

“Why's that?” Magnus asks.

“I dunno. The calmness of the past few days, I suppose.”

Magnus nods in understanding. “I thought you could do with a break. But if you want company…”

Alec shakes his head. “It's not company I miss,” he says. “It's just too much time to think.” He chuckles. “Besides, Izzy is going to call later when she's landed.”

“Right. Simon RSVPed my New Years party invitation.”

“Izzy is looking forward to joining us. She said you throw the best parties.”

Magnus huffs a laugh. “Well, she's only been to three.”

“Three? We were only apart for two months.”

“Two were our wedding and my bachelor party, the third was more of a small get-together with my closest friends.”

“Well, our wedding was a great party. Not that I remember much.”

Magnus purses his lips, his fingers tightening in Alec's hand. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“There's nothing to talk about. That day will always be a stain on our relationship and on the way the world sees us as a couple.”

“The rumour mill has died down, Alexander. We're not the centre of the world. New scandals are lurking in every corner, waiting to be discovered.”

“Yeah,” Alec sighs. “I suppose you're right. I just… In the few moments that I allowed myself to dream of being with someone who I desired… I didn't think of our difficulties. I dreamed that it would be easy, natural. There was no doubt that I could make the right man happy if I were allowed to be with him.”

Magnus fights against the bout of fear tightening his chest. He manages an even, “And now, you do? Doubt that?”

Alec nods.

“Alexander,” Magnus says, gathering his strength. “Thank you for being so brave to voice that fear. But you needn't worry.”

“But I do worry, Magnus. That's who I am. I love you. I want to make you happy. And I wanna be happy with you.”

Magnus nods, his heart doing something complicated, something rather painful. “And you're not?” he asks under his breath.

Alec's head flips around violently. “I am. I am, Magnus. But it's… hard. It shouldn't be hard.”

Magnus can't breathe. He knows that Alec has been struggling adjusting. But he thought…

“Being happy with me?” he asks, feeling as if the ground is breaking away from underneath his feet. But Alec shakes his head, his gaze going up to the mountains.

“You are the only person keeping me going. And it's never been that way, Magnus. Yes, my mother's high expectations pushed me, my father's silent support spurred me on, protecting my siblings was a way to express my love to them, but it was duty that made me go through my everyday life, made me get up in the morning, train, study, serve.”

Magnus’ heart misses a beat.

“Duty wouldn't have gotten me this far in our marriage, Magnus. It's been our love. Granted, at times, I doubted your intentions, but I think my heart, deep down, always knew that you were at least good-natured and that you cared for me on some level.”

Magnus swallows hard. He knows he's failed Alec at crucial points and way too many times. But this has to stop.

“I've always cared for you, Alexander. The moment I saw you, I was smitten. I'm utterly sorry for having made you feel anything less than fully loved and cherished.”

Alec nods in acknowledgement. “That conversation we had earlier… You put so much thought into it. You are supportive in a way I've never experienced. It's just that I feel put on the spot, you know? I just wanna be normal.”

“You are normal. A beautiful variety of human life. You need a packer, I need my tiger stripes. We're all just trying to express ourselves, to feel good in our skin. Granted, you have way different struggles and challenges than I have but we can face them together. You're not alone in this any longer.”

Alec nods, quirking a lopsided smile. The sight makes Magnus’ stomach flip in the best ways.

They walk in silence for a while until they reach a section where the trees recede, opening up to a free view of the snow-covered city below. Magnus watches Alec's reaction, the way his eyes glitter in the winter sun.

“Are you alright?” he asks. Alec nods, his throat bobbing. “It's one of my favourite places in the whole kingdom,” Magnus says.

“I see why,” Alec says quietly. “It's beautiful.”

“It's your home now.”

Alec quirks a smile. “My home country,” he corrects. “My home is you.”

Magnus’ breath hitches. He huffs a nervous laugh, butterflies storming his stomach. He squeezes Alec's hand, probably a little too tightly.

Alec smiles knowingly and leans in for a kiss, gentle and soft. Magnus cups the back of his neck to pull Alec closer.

“I love you,” he whispers against Alec's lips.

Alec brushes the cold tip of his nose against Magnus’. “I love you, too.”

And in this moment, that's all that matters.

“I think that's yours,” Magnus says, pushing his phone back into the pocket of his coat.

Alec chuckles, fishing for his own. “I really need to change the ringtone,” he says. Magnus grins. Getting him a dual sim phone for Christmas was a good idea. Alec will collect Edom contacts, but he also should be easily accessible for old friends and acquaintances. Not that his phone rings that often. Magnus doesn't dare ponder too much why it is that way. His phone is usually on ‘do not disturb’ mode with only his closest friends being able to get through to him. Otherwise, it would ring way too often.

Alec frowns at the display before he swipes to pick up. “Hello. Who is this?” he asks. Magnus walks a few steps away to give him some privacy, but Alec's breathed “Jenny” makes him stall.

Jenny? Jennifer? He only ever heard that name once connected to his husband. In fact, he only read it. Alec has not uttered it once. He only ever called her his parabatai.

“I'm good,” Alec says, eyes flickering over to Magnus. He looks unsettled as he listens to whatever the woman on the other side of the line is telling him. Magnus watches as Alec's red cheeks grow even darker. He walks closer again, but his phone goes off as well.

“Tessa, I thought you were on vacation.”

“I was, but the crown's PR team called me in as my substitute is new and wasn't sure how to handle the news requests.”

“What news requests?” Magnus asks. If they called Tessa back, it must be something big.

“The article about Alec's past that was published by the British Sun. It's low news days and the press is devouring it.”

“What is it about?”

“It's based on an interview with his ex parabatai. Local news are already questioning his loyalty to Edom as they claim his selfishness would always come first. The article didn't paint him in positive colours and our own yellow press is running with it. I think it's best you return to the palace immediately.”

Magnus nods. “I'll see you in half an hour.”

They hang up. Magnus rushes back to Alec who is just saying his goodbyes.

“Was that your parabatai?” Magnus asks.

“Yes. She apologised for unknowingly talking to a reporter about me.”

“Unknowingly?”

“Yeah. It was a friend of a friend. They talked at a party, and an English newspaper picked it up. She wanted me to know before I read it myself. As if I'd read trash like that.”

“I fear you'll have to. Tessa just called me. We have a PR crisis meeting in half an hour.”

“About a silly little interview?”

“It dropped like a bomb, Alexander. The press is questioning your loyalty.”

“My—?” Alec gapes at him. “She requested the dissolvement of our bond.”

“We gotta read the article from the Sun and the reporting of our media.”

Alec blinks at him. “Why is Tessa back from her vacation?”

Magnus quirks a sad smile.

“Because it's bad,” Alec answers his own question.

Magnus nods. “It's gonna be fine, my love. Our best people are already working on it.”

Alec nods and turns to stride down the path they had taken walking hand in hand. Magnus hopes he's just in fixing mode and not running away from him. They really can't catch a break, can they?

Chapter Text

Alec looks up from the page, tears pricking his eyes. Jenny sounded so sympathetic and apologetic over the phone. Why did she even call him when all she had done is to spread lies?

It doesn't make any sense. This isn't the woman he once knew. They were far from a perfect match but one thing they had in common: they hated both being manipulated and manipulating others for their own benefit.

“I don't begrudge him his truth,” she said tearfully. “I thought we were partners, bound forever by something greater than ourselves. But he decided his personal journey was more important than what we built together. It felt like I was discarded.”

Alec shakes his head, nausea swirling in his stomach. Nothing could be further from the truth. She didn't even talk to him after his public coming out. The moment he became Alec, he was chopped liver to her. She had blocked him on her phone. No more joint running rounds, no birthday greetings, no nothing.

But she called today. She never deleted his number.

The prince, once celebrated as a rising star in the Shadowhunter ranks, broke his lifelong bond with his parabatai when he decided to live his life as a man—a move that some have called “selfish” and “disrespectful” to the ancient oath that binds Shadowhunters together.

Why did she call if that is her stance, too? Her pain might be real but it doesn't match the logical coldness of cutting him off like dead weight after he came out to her.

The prince's own mother pleaded with the Queen for the bond to be broken, a request surely only granted as Duchess Maryse of Alicante had been serving the Clave dutifully for decades.

Alec lets out an exhale of relief. At least, his parents’ past hasn't been exposed to the world. If their involvement in the Circle came to light, he's pretty sure Magnus would be forced to abdicate. Or to divorce him.

While supporters of the prince argue that transitioning is a deeply personal and courageous act, critics point to the sacred nature of the parabatai bond, which is meant to be unbreakable except under extreme circumstances. “Breaking a bond like this is unheard of,” said one Clave elder. “It sets a dangerous precedent for others who might prioritize their own desires over their duty to our community.”

Prince Alexander, who offered himself to be Edom's parabatai in a heartfelt speech last November at Remembrance Day, now sees himself accused of spewing empty promises, uncaring about other people's feelings. Him turning up as the caricature of a bride at his own wedding…

Alec puts the suspiciously void of pictures printout on the table and takes a deep breath. This is such nonsense. He knows that. But does Magnus know? The Crown? The people of Edom?

“How bad is it?” he asks. It's better to rip off the band aid and face the music.

“The article you just read is from a local online newspaper. Other online platforms look pretty much the same. We need to put out a statement asap to soften it down in tomorrow's print version,” the Crown's Head of PR, who introduced herself as Satrina Kendall, Lady of Edom, says. “But I need your version first, Your Royal Highness.”

Alec nods, not daring to look in Magnus’ eyes, even though he can feel his husband's gaze heavily lying on him.

“I had asked my parents to officially change my name for years. I had been Alec at the Institute and amongst my siblings for a while then. Shortly before my 18th birthday, my mother agreed on one condition—that I would come out to everyone who was still using my old name. Jenny was the first I had on my mind. I told her via email.”

“Why?” Tessa asks.

Alec sighs. “She was on a special training course. We're not allowed to carry phones there.

“Why only then?” Satrina asks.

“I had wanted to come out to her when she came to visit us. I tried to break the topic, and her reaction was… suboptimal. I didn't dare tell her the truth back then, and with every passing month, it got harder, until it was this big mountain standing between us. I dunno. I should've told her sooner, to make her get used to the idea the way my family could, but we just never were as close as parabatais are supposed to be. She only agreed to our bond because… It doesn't matter.”

“It probably does,” Satrina states.

Shame and sadness mix strangely in Alec's chest. These people will never understand the implications of any of it. Will they feel pity for them? Or disdain for him? Not that it would matter. Lady Satrina may be polite around him, but Alec isn't naive. He sees the difference with which she's been treating him and Magnus. It might be subtle, but whenever she uses Alec's title, sarcasm drips through the syllables.

Alec clears his throat before he talks. “Jenny's best friend and future parabatai had died from cancer. Jenny was gracious in taking me on, and then I paid it back by not opening up to her. And now, she thinks I broke our bond.”

“You believe her?” Magnus enquires. It's the first words he's addressed to him since they arrived here.

“Jenny is an honest person. I can't think of a reason why she'd lie about this. And after everything that's happened in the past few months… Maybe we were both sold a lie. Maybe… maybe our parents decided for us.”

Alec grabs his phone and dials a number he hasn't used since his wedding day.

“Mom? Have you seen the news?”

A sigh comes over the line. “The Queen's liaison officer reached out to me after Edom requested clarification.”

“And what did you say?”

Silence comes over the phone.

“Mom?”

“I confirmed that I put in the request on your behalf.”

“But you told me that Jenny pleaded for it!”

“What do you expect me to say, Alec?”

Alec scoffs. This is unbelievable! “You have no shame, have you?”

“We did what we thought was right for you and Jenny.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Alec presses.

“The Queen, Jenny's mother and I. Your parabatai was confused and devastated after receiving your message. She needed stability.”

“Stability,” Alec huffs. “In taking away her parabatai, making her lose just another confidant?”

“You weren't exactly someone she could rely on, were you?” Maryse bites.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Perhaps I wasn't the best parabatai of all times but I was always there for her when it mattered.”

Not that his mother would know. She didn't ask questions during his time at the academy beyond grades. She doesn't know about Jenny's struggles or the ways he helped her keep secrets from her parents.

“It was too much for her to process,” Maryse says.

“Did Jenny say that?”

Maryse lets out an annoyed sound. “You alienated many people with your coming out. She would have been pulled into the mess if it had made the rounds. You know how our society looks at opposite-sex bondings. It would have outed you for all eternity to have a female parabatai, and she would have been affected, too.”

“That wasn't for you to decide! Maybe Jenny would have supported me.”

“You can't possibly believe that, Alec. Jenny comes from one of the most influential Shadowhunters families. And she got lucky. She has a wonderful parabatai, the Head of the Mumbai Institute.”

Alec wants to scream. With his parents’ support, he'd be the Head of the New York Institute, maybe even leading it with Jenny. Or Jace. If his mother would have accepted him earlier for who he was and hadn't wasted time, hoping he would grow out of it. He could have bonded with Jace. But he had to get a female parabatai, for her to be a perfect example of Idris womanhood to him and a pressure tool to call upon his sense of duty. But he went rogue, so they – the Queen with his mother's help – took everything from him, a punishment for being himself. And he too easily believed the lies, thought Jenny to be selfish. He should have known better. If they had one thing in common, it was their sense of loyalty. And now, it's that very thing the vultures of the press are casting doubt on.

“I don't begrudge him his truth.” How different would his life have been with a parabatai that had stayed by his side through it all?

“I'm just glad you can't meddle in my life any longer. Goodbye, Mother,” Alec says and hangs up.

“So, the Clave's reply was true,” Tessa says.

Alec raises a questioning eyebrow.

“They said your mother petitioned for you.”

Alec nods. He pinches the root of his nose, willing away the tension building up in his head.

“So… what's the plan?” he asks. He feels useless in this circus. Invisible battles aren't his forte.

“The truth,” Magnus says.

“The truth might endanger my family.”

“Leaving the lie roam out there without a comment could endanger the monarchy,” Magnus says evenly.

Right.

“What if I ask Jenny to speak up, to discredit the source?”

“You think she'd do that?” Tessa asks.

“She called to warn me and to apologise, so I think she doesn't like to be used like that. Gossiping is seen as a sign of weakness in Shadowhunter culture.”

“That's… interesting.” Satrina's fingers wave through the air, painting an invisible path. “We can probably work with that.”

Alec doesn't allow himself to be relieved just yet. “I'm really sorry that this is happening,” he says, looking at Magnus. “I've never been a troublemaker before,” he adds, chuckling nervously.

“Oh, we're used to doing damage control, Your Royal Highness. The Prince Royal trained us well,” Satrina smirks, nearly sounding kind.

“That I did,” Magnus laughs and squeezes Alec's hand. Only now, Alec is able to pull in a proper breath.

“We'll be at our place,” Magnus announces, “unless you need anything from us now.”

“Jenny's number,” Tessa says. Alec nods and saves the contact to pass it on.

“Let the valet prepare a TV-appropriate outfit for the Prince Consort. The stylist must be on standby.”

Alec nods. This will likely become a long day.

Chapter Text

“What would you say to someone who says you're just paddling back due to pressure from either of the two royal courts involved?” the reporter on the TV screen asks. Magnus holds his breath. Jenny went about all of this like a pro. No surprise there. She was groomed to become a diplomat just like his husband.

Jenny chuckles. She comes off so naturally. Before this live interview, Magnus had wondered what she was like, why Alec thought her so much more open and social than himself. Magnus still thinks that Alec doesn't give himself enough credit but he gets it now. Jenny has been balancing the tightrope of well weighed words and coming off sympathetic perfectly. There's still hope for Idris with the younger generation being like this.

“I doubt the Prince Consort would've invited me to his private New Year's party if we were anything but friends,” Jenny replies. Alec gives Magnus a questioning look. Magnus shrugs. It's not the worst way of thanking her for saving Alec's face, he supposes.

“There's no need to put pressure on me to simply share the truth,” Jenny continues. “This article left out a lot of what I'd said. Prince Alexander is loyal to a fault, and I couldn't be prouder of the man he's become. Our culture restricted the ways he and I could go about the changes of our relationship. I'm just happy that he is in a good place now where he can thrive and do good, because that's who his Royal Highness is. He cares deeply about others. He was a good parabatai to me during a time where I grieved and struggled. Edom can call itself lucky to have such a loyal and devoted man at the side of their future king.”

Alec breathes out loudly as the reporter thanks Jenny for the interview. “I guess I can get ready for bed now?” he asks. Magnus squeezes his knee.

“Do you—?” Magnus starts but trails off as a knock sounds loudly from the front door. “Come in!” he calls. Alec switches off the TV as Tessa enters.

“She did it,” she gets directly to the point.

“She was brilliant,” Alec agrees. “I wasn't aware I invited her, though.” He chuckles.

“I figured it would be a good thing to be seen together.”

Alec nods. “I haven't seen her in so long. It'll be good to clear the air between us.”

“Who knows? She might be someone who'll be part of your life again,” Magnus says. He wonders how many friends or friends-to-be Alec lost due to his mother's interventions. A wonderful man such as his husband should not be a loner. It has never made sense to him. Until today.

Alec gets up from the sofa, not commenting on his words. Magnus and Tessa share a look.

“I'm beat,” Alec says. “Thank you for all your hard work, Tessa. I'm sorry for keeping you away from your family.”

“Don't worry about it, Alec. My kids love you.”

That elicits a small smile from him. It makes Magnus’ heart squeeze in his chest.

“Maybe we could do something fun together, to make up for it,” Alec says.

“That would be lovely,” Tessa replies. “Don't worry too much. It's gonna be fine.”

Alec nods. He presses a good night kiss to Magnus’ cheek, then disappears to the bedroom. Magnus waits until he's out of earshot.

“What did you offer her?” he asks quietly, just in case.

“Nothing,” Tessa says and nods as Magnus lifts his whisky decanter, raising a questioning eyebrow. “She was shocked when we told her what Maryse Lightwood had shared. I think we broke her heart all over again,” she sighs.

“I know what you mean. As if this whole forced detransition wasn't bad enough, I feel like Alec is splintering more and more every day. And I put band aid after band aid over the gaping wounds of his heart. He deserves a break.”

Tessa accepts the tumbler he's handing her and sits down in her favourite armchair. “You think you'll have to do the tour alone?”

Magnus shakes his head. “No. Leaving him behind would probably make things worse. I'm the only one he has right now.”

“What about his siblings?”

Magnus sighs. “Isabelle is moving to Edom. But I don't know if he'll let her fully see how hard all of the changes have hit him.”

Tessa purses her lips. “He's not exactly open about the inner workings of his life,” she states. Magnus knows what she's saying between the lines. She's Alec's personal assistant but she probably doesn't know half of what has gone down since their wedding. Alec needs a confidant. Maybe Magnus should talk to Isabelle, make her aware of the state of her brother. But what if Alec feels betrayed?

Open communication.

Magnus runs his hand over his face. He shouldn't act with precipitation.

“How are you holding up, my friend?” Tessa asks.

“It's not my life that has been completely uprooted and turned upside down.”

“You have a spouse you barely know, who probably has C-PTSD. A man who has gone through hell to marry you. A man who's never been with anyone before. I see that you're compatible. That doesn't make it easy.”

Magnus breathes a sigh. Tessa knows him too well. And she's too clever to buy platitudes. He chose her to be Alec's assistant for a reason.

“No, it doesn't. But love can conquer all, can't it? Look at you.”

Tessa gives him a sad smile. “There are parts of my soul that still aren't healed. Despite Will. Despite the kids.”

Magnus nods in understanding.

“He's just getting hit, again and again. I thought he could finally relax, be loved, live. But the impacts are coming. How much can one person bend until they break?”

“Alec is a tough cookie.”

“He is. With the softest core. I think, today, he lost all belief that his mother ever loved him. And as glad as I am that he didn't even try to defend her, it felt like abandonment. He sat here all evening, waiting, not saying a word. As if facing the gallows. I just hope Jenny has steered this ship into safe waters. If it doesn't work—”

“It will work. We've been through worse.”

“We? Yes. He? Well, the jury's still out on that. The public opinion could turn from sympathy to disdain so quickly.”

“And vice versa. Since when are you a pessimist, Magnus?”

That's a good question. Maybe seeing the stoney facade of his inwardly crumbling husband did the trick. Magnus felt so helpless. He's a doer. So is Alec. But all they could do was sit and wait.

“I wasn't even good for comic relief,” Magnus mumbles and downs his whisky.

“Sometimes, just existing in the same space is enough.”

Magnus nods, working his jaw. “I just want him to be happy.”

“I'm sure you do. You're his safe haven, Magnus. Don't sell yourself short.”

Magnus clicks his tongue. “I hope you're right. It's just always two steps forward, one step back.”

Tessa chuckles quietly. “That's still progress,” she muses.

Magnus huffs a laugh. “Maybe the tour will do him good. Lots of positive press, far away from anyone who wants to harm him or has in the past…”

“And he can finally use all of his talents, show the world who he is beyond his past.”

Magnus nods, a smile growing on his lips. “He'll upstage me, won't he? With his language skills alone.”

“I think he'll make you shine even more.”

Magnus cocks an eyebrow.

“I know a lot feels heavy and difficult right now,” Tessa elaborates, “but I don't think I've ever seen you look at a partner like that.”

“What do you mean?”

Tessa just smiles and empties her tumbler. “Time for bed,” she states. Magnus releases a breath. She's right. It has been a long day.

Alec feels the mattress moving under Magnus’ weight, but he plays possum. He has no energy for the talk Magnus surely wants to have. It's futile anyway. Nothing has changed. Not really. His heart simply fractured a little more, held together by sheer will and stubbornness. He barely feels it, the new cuts on his thighs smarting enough to overpower the dull ache in his chest. He pushed against the urge all afternoon, relented in the evening. It was a short lived relief. He cut too deeply with his hands trembling. These will need longer to heal than the scratches of the past two months. He has to be more careful.

If Magnus knew…

Shame layers itself like a blanket over Alec, separating him from the man he loves. All he wants is to curl up in Magnus’ arms, to hear his soothing voice saying that everything is going to be alright. And it will be, eventually. Jenny was great. He's looking forward to seeing her again, to repair what he unwillingly has broken.

Magnus’ fingers card through his hair, the gentle touch bringing Alec to tears. He lets them run freely, silent, their taste salty on his lips. He doesn't deserve this, and still, he soaks up the tender affection. Magnus still touches him, still shares his bed with him, still wants him. God knows why, but Alec doesn't question it. He's too drained, too sad, too tired. His whole life has been a lie, but this here is real. He can call himself lucky. He should. He does. If he could just rip out his heart and grow a new one.

We mean well.

The Lightwood motto is such a farce. Meaning well doesn't equal doing well much less doing good. But he will sleep now, and tomorrow, he'll reap what his mother sowed. Another day trying to leave his past behind. Another day under the scrutiny of two nations. He can't wait to leave both of them behind.

Chapter Text

The sounds coming from the bathroom make Magnus stir. He pries his eyes open, a little disorientated. The numbers on his phone screen only come slowly into focus. He groans into Alec's pillow. Why is his husband up already? To read the freshly printed news?

Magnus peels himself off the mattress and walks into his living space. He finds the newspapers untouched on the dining table. He more feels than sees movement behind him, the front door opening quietly. Alec is standing there in his pyjamas, thanking someone on the other side. When he closes the door again, Magnus greets him. Alec freezes as if caught red handed. Magnus chuckles. What weird behaviour. Didn't he see that the bed was empty? Probably not. It's still dark outside.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks.

“Yeah,” Alec croaks, turning slowly, a plastic package in his hand. He squeezes it a little too tightly.

Oh.

“I thought you had your periods behind you,” Magnus says, his heart aching for his man.

“The fertility doctor said it would be better to wait for the natural cause of things than to make a curettage after they extracted the eggs,” Alec says.

“I'm so sorry, Alexander.”

Alec shrugs.

“What do you need?” Magnus asks.

“Normalcy. No fuss around it. Just let me put in the pad real quick.”

Magnus nods. “Chocolate croissants for breakfast?” he asks. Those were Alec's favourites when he lost the baby. How has already a month passed since then?

“Whatever you like,” Alec says and returns to the bedroom.

Magnus releases a sigh.

“That's still progress.”

He hopes Tessa is right. He still feels like they’re treading water. But he orders their breakfast and settles at the table. He skims through the front pages. They are mostly well-disposed towards them. He lets the one showing their official wedding photo disappear in a drawer before Alec returns, fully dressed.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Magnus asks.

“I'm sure Satrina has plans for us.”

Magnus nods. Alec is probably right. And here he thought they could enjoy the calm days between Christmas and New Year. But well.

Magnus studies Alec's face when he pulls the stack of newspapers towards him. It's set in stone, guarded. Magnus wants to shake him, wants to tell him that he should just let it all out. But that's not his husband. And Alec is good just the way he is. He'll talk eventually.

“Jenny saved our asses,” Alec finally speaks.

“She did. Any idea how we can thank her for that?”

“Give her one of your famous Edom horses,” Alec jokes.

“She's an equestrian?”

Alec nods. “She always wanted me to go on rides with her. But she's a dressage rider. I sat on a pony once when I was five. We weren't exactly on the same level.”

“Dressage?”

“Olympic level.”

Magnus chuckles. Of course.

“Is there anything talented Shadowhunters are allowed to do just for fun?” he enquires.

“Not really. If you're good at something, you must excel and make your country proud.”

“What did you do for fun before?”

Alec shrugs, sending a grateful look to the servant serving their breakfast. “I sparred with Jace.”

Magnus shakes his head, chuckling.

“I told you I was boring,” Alec says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, there's nothing boring about you, my love. Our cultures are just very different.”

Alec smiles, nearly shy, and takes a bite from his croissant. He hums happily around it.

“Dad once took us boys on a fishing trip,” Alec shares, seemingly apropos of nothing.

“I must say, that surprises me,” Magnus replies, curiosity lacing his words.

“It's my favourite memory from my teenage years.”

Magnus swallows around the growing lump in his throat. This man is an Olympian, but a fishing trip still makes it to the top of his list? Nothing should surprise him any longer, but the Lightwood parents always manage to, and not in a good way. How special and singular must this trip have been when it overshadows international fame?

“I know my father isn't innocent,” Alec continues. “I won't let him off the hook in all of this. He either condoned my mother's doings or he was a coward, leaving me to be at her mercy. But he accepted me way earlier than she did. I know they fought about it. But he was also away a lot, preferring doing politics and the company of his girlfriend to us, prioritising it at least. But he also taught me how to shoot my first arrow, how to ice skate, and to make French toast. He was the first adult calling me Alec.” He breathes a sigh. “He dangled the carrot of acceptance in front of my nose but he didn't stand up for me. Not fully.”

Magnus hums in understanding. How far Alec has come.

“I know what that feels like,” he says and squeezes Alec's hand. Alec doesn't let go of him after. Magnus only too happily indulges his need for touch. After a night sleeping next to each other, he needs it, too.

“What's your favourite childhood memory?” Alec asks.

An unstoppable smile grows on Magnus’ face. “One of my most cherished memories from childhood is a trip I took with my mother when I was six. We went to Santorini. I remember the excitement of boarding the royal jet, my nose pressed to the window as clouds drifted by beneath us. My mother sat beside me, telling me stories about the lands we flew over—stories that made even the sky feel magical.

“On the island, everything felt brighter and more alive. The whitewashed houses with their blue domes seemed to glow in the sunlight. My mother let me run ahead on the cobblestone streets, laughing as I darted between sunbeams and shadows. She bought me a tiny seashell from a local vendor, which I guarded like treasure. I do till this day.

“We ate together at a little taverna overlooking the sea. She let me try baklava for the first time, and I remember how she wiped honey from my chin, her eyes sparkling with laughter. That's the way I remember her whenever I close my eyes.”

Alec's fingers tighten in Magnus’, his eyes warm and sympathetic.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he says.

Magnus quirks a smile. “Thank you for wanting to know me.”

Alec huffs a laugh. “Of course, I do. You're the most important person in my life.”

“You'd be surprised how little others are interested in the man behind the prince façade, my love.”

“Well, those people are jerks.”

So simple, so Alec. Magnus falls a little harder for him.

“I guess we both have had a fair share of those in our lives,” Magnus muses.

“Yeah. All the more reason to do better.”

Magnus nods. He has no idea how Alec managed to become this wonderful man, growing up in the midst of toxicity. But he is, and one day, when they're blessed with children of their own, they will do a better job than the Lightwood parents and Asmodeus combined.

Magnus smiles to himself and grabs his phone, shooting a quick message to Catarina and his assistant. Alec is right. They need to be seen together today, but who says they're not allowed to have fun while doing it?

“Whoah!” Alec chuckles. “Not so fast. You gotta be more careful, Madz.”

“You can talk,” Madzie says, looking up at him judgingly. “You promised not to let me fall.”

“I know,” Alec says, trying his best to keep in his laughter. Pouting Madzie is just too cute. “And I didn't mean to. Wanna try again?”

Madzie rolls her eyes but stretches out her hands for Alec to get her back on her feet.

“Falling is part of learning how to skate, Madz. I fell a dozen times, but it's worth the fun later.”

She doesn't look convinced but follows him anyway. It doesn't take long until she is proudly showing off her new skills to her mother and godfather.

“Momma! Magnus! Look!” she calls.

“You're doing great, honey,” Catarina says. “Wanna go a round with me?”

“Yes!” Madzie says, dragging her mother along. Alec chuckles as he watches them go. This is exactly what he needed today. Magnus has the best ideas.

“You're so great with her,” Magnus states, and pulls him close. Alec goes with ease.

“She's a great kid.”

“That she is,” Magnus agrees and leans in for a kiss. Alec can't help but sigh into it. He knows the world is watching, not only the respectfully acting Downworlders around them who have been giving them space since they arrived at the frozen lake. The cluster of photographers on the shore aren't easy to miss. But he doesn't care. Magnus’ kisses taste way too good to just hold hands. Still, he pulls away after a long moment.

“We're breaking protocol,” he says, nudging his nose against Magnus’.

“We're as private right now as it gets in public. Or do you not want to?” Magnus asks.

Alec huffs a laugh. “It's good to just be another couple, doing normal couple stuff,” he says.

“In that case, we should probably go skating together, now that you took away my opportunity to be the one teaching my goddaughter how to do it.”

“She insisted, and your father may be the king, but she's my little princess now,” Alec smirks. The smile growing on Magnus’ face looks painfully wide. It makes Alec dizzy with a surge of want. He has to kiss it off his husband's stupidly pretty face. Alec fails, grinning just as much as Magnus does.

He wishes it were always this way. He pushes away that thought. All they have is the here and now, and after the car crash of the past 24 hours, they deserve this. So he indulges in it.

“Can I have hot chocolate, please?” Madzie's voice pops their little bubble.

“Sure, Sweet Pea,” Magnus finds his voice first, looking a little dopey as he pulls back. Alec grins smugly. He did that. And as soon as they're back home, he'll finish what he started.

Chapter Text

Magnus is still catching his breath when Alec plops down on the mattress next to him.

“That was… intense,” Magnus half chuckles, half breathes. He had partners who were horny during their menses before, but the way Alec kissed him senseless as soon as the door fell shut behind them was something else.

“I should hope so,” Alec says, clearly smirking. Magnus turns his head, taking in the glow coming off Alec's face. God, he's radiant like this. Looking good enough to eat.

Magnus rolls on his side and sneaks a hand under Alec's shirt, tenderly brushing over his stomach.

“You never cease to amaze me,” Magnus says before he places a lazy kiss on Alec's lips. His hand searching for skin, he's too fucked out to get out of the rest of his clothes to give Alec ideas for doing the same. He just melts into Alec's body, wracking his brain as to how he could return the favour. Alec seems content enough, but is this truly all he wants, all Magnus is allowed to give? Himself to be pleasured and nothing more?

Magnus doesn't want to destroy the beautiful moment. His skin is still tingling from his climax, and Alec feels just too nice against him to move. And still, memories of times gone by hit him like a tidal wave. He knows he can't compare their relationship to others’, shouldn't compare for sure. It's hard, though, his longing to return everything good Alec gave him so freely tugging on his heart.

This won't do, so he does the one thing he's sure Alec likes despite everything that has gone wrong between them.

“The disparity between our states of undress is deeply unsettling,” Magnus murmurs into Alec's ear. He dwells in the shiver running through his husband. It's a good sign, he supposes. He's about 85 per cent sure that Alec isn't a stone top.* Or is the wish father to the thought? A part of Magnus hopes it's not. They would make it work, of course. Magnus is willing to pay any price to make Alec happy, even forgoing big parts of his own pleasure. But maybe, he just has to be patient. Alec is still at the beginning of this journey. Maybe he simply has no concept of what might do it for him.

“Do you want more clothes or should I lose some?” Alec asks, chuckling.

“You, less,” Magnus orders, pondering if he should get rid of his unbuttoned shirt. He feels too lazy however, his whole body heavy and relaxed, so he simply enjoys the sight of Alec shimmying out of his jeans and shirt. He mourns the missing sight of Alec's naked butt. The pad-friendly boxer shorts look comfortable on him, however. That Alec doesn't even think twice about showing him his chest any longer fills Magnus with giddy content.

He brushes his fingers over the regrown hair, eliciting a smile from Alec, who kisses him sweetly. He has such a tender soul living in this body built of muscles and pain.

Magnus pulls him close, their bodies finding their perfect fit with ease. They kiss lazily, Alec's pulse speeding up under Magnus’ lips. Alec grinds against him. The pad crinkles quietly between them. Magnus would have missed it if it weren't for Alec freezing in his arms.

“It's okay,” Magnus murmurs against his lips and grinds back. He's still soft, spent as he is, so there's not much pleasure to seek for him. But he knows that it could give Alec relief if he got over his hangups. Grinding is one of Magnus’ favourites anyway, and Alec, after a moment of hesitation, seems to get into it as well. His breathing grows shorter, hot puffs hitting Magnus’ cheek when their lips lose contact. Alec takes, first with tiny, exploring movements as he presses into him. But he grows more bold with Magnus’ soft words and noises of approval spurring him on.

It takes a while until he comes, body shivering. He's so quiet throughout it all. Just as quiet as back during their honeymoon. Magnus doesn't dare to breathe, waiting for Alec to say something. But Alec stays silent, only his fluttering heartbeat and ragged breathing betraying his state. Magnus’ heart runs a hundred miles a minute. Did he trigger bad memories? Is Alec processing something good? Something bad? Was he too forward? He didn't force himself on him, did he? Or did Alec think he had to do this for him? To please him.

“I…” Alec presses out and rolls off him, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you alright, Alexander?” Magnus asks, anxiety slowly tightening the grip on his heart.

Alec nods, still not meeting his eyes.

“Do you feel… better?”

Alec wets his lips, eyes flickering to Magnus.

“That was weird,” he finally settles on.

“Good weird or bad weird?”

Alec shrugs. “Not bad.”

Magnus huffs a laugh. He'll take that as a win, despite the frown growing on Alec's forehead. Is that their cop-out? The solution to their problem? Humping each other like teenagers? Not that Magnus would complain. It would be progress. Huge progress.

“Was it weird for you?” Alec asks. Magnus hears it as the request for reassurance that it likely is.

“Not at all, my love. It felt good, right?”

Alec nods, his thinking face still on display.

“Did you…” Magnus trails off for a moment, his heart beating violently against his ribcage. He never thought he'd ever ask a question like this ever again. But he had been so sure that Alec had enjoyed himself during their honeymoon, and he so didn't. Magnus has to know.

“Did you come?” he asks.

Alec's frown grows even deeper. “I… I think so.”

Magnus laughs in relief, some of the tension leaving his body with it. “That's wonderful!”

Alec nods, but he doesn't look happy about it.

“It's a good thing, isn't it?” Magnus asks.

“Yeah,” Alec replies and sits up. “Gotta pee,” he says and disappears into their en-suite. Magnus lets out a sigh. Two steps forward, one step back. Still progress. Magnus puts a pillow over his face and groans into it. Quietly. Whatever Alec has to process, he won't add his frustration to the mess.

He should have left it at sucking Magnus off. God, this is embarrassing.

Alec looks at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, washing his hands with the diligence of a surgeon. How is he supposed to face Magnus after this?

Did you come? Magnus surely never had to ask any of his lovers that.

Alec closes his eyes, shaking his head. Why is he so bad at this? It can't all be dysphoria, can it? Maybe he's broken. He was so wet from making Magnus come. His husband is so gorgeous when he lets go. Alec feels like his heart might explode with joy and pride whenever he finishes him off. Why did he have to destroy it by wanting even more?

It was nice though as long as it lasted. By any logic, it shouldn't have been. But Magnus’ voice was like a siren's, drowning out the crinkling between his legs, luring him in. He must have enjoyed it on some level, too. It's a cold comfort in all of this.

Alec throws the damp towel into the hamper and takes a deep breath. ”There's nothing to be ashamed of, Alec.” Magnus’ words from months ago echo in his head. Alec used to be so good at accepting things that didn't make sense to him, rules made by others for him to follow. He wishes Magnus would guide him more. But maybe that's what's just happened. And it led to something good. Not perfect by any means, but something. He should lie in Magnus’ arms enjoying the afterglow instead of hiding in the bathroom.

He nods at his own reflection and walks back into the bedroom. Magnus sits at his vanity table, already dressed in his silken pyjama bottoms. He smiles at him through the mirror.

“Thank you,” Alec croaks.

“For what?”

“For… letting me have this.”

“It was my unbridled pleasure, Alexander.”

Alec nods, unsure how to voice what he truly wants to say. He decides to get changed for bed instead, careful not to show his thighs. Thankfully, Magnus is busy with removing his make-up.

“I liked it,” Alec says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I just… I feel like I used you.”

Magnus turns at that, studying his face with intensity. “Did I use you before?” he asks. Alec shakes his head. “Making love is a team's sport, Alexander. I'm so happy we found a way for you to enjoy yourself. We just need to figure out how to translate it.”

“What do you mean?”

Magnus gives him a soft smile. “The barrier between us seemed to help. Maybe that's something we could look into. Or maybe it was more about the movement than that. I'm looking forward to exploring that with you. You were really sexy, taking what you needed.”

Alec's cheeks heat up despite the playfulness in Magnus’ words. “Just because of you,” he says. Magnus’ face lights up with recognition. Alec quirks a smile. Yes, he can still surprise him in good ways, too.

Magnus walks to his side of the bed, crawling over the mattress until he's kneeling pressed against Alec's back.

“I enjoyed it, too,” he murmurs into Alec's ear, as if he knows what's going on in Alec's mind. He probably does.

“I humped you like a dog.”

“You used the ancient sex practice of frottage, my love. I love it. Just thinking about it makes me hard again.”

Alec can feel the truth of it pressing against him.

“You're ready for another round?” he half-teases.

Magnus hums in confirmation. “But I'd rather cuddle up with you.”

Alec gets the hint. Magnus wants to pick up where Alec left him hanging.

“Sounds perfect,” he says. It truly is.

Chapter Text

Alec wakes up to an empty bed. He sits up, brushing the sleep out of his eyes. Has this ever happened before? Not since the first night they spent together. Magnus loves to sleep in as long as he can, and this is their last day off before the New Year festivities. What could have made him flee the warm cocoon of their bed?

Alec throws off the blanket and walks out to the living space. Light is falling through the door leading to Magnus’ study.

“Good morning,” Alec greets. Magnus looks up from the paperwork lying scattered over his desk.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, getting up.

“No. It's my usual time.”

Magnus blinks at his grandfather clock. “Oh. I didn't realise it was that late already.”

Alec frowns at him, running his fingers over the lapel of Magnus’ silken robe. “How long have you been up?”

Magnus releases a sigh. “Two hours. The secret service sent me a briefing.”

“The secret service?” Alec asks.

“Yes. They received Idris intel about a potential Circle terror cell,” Magnus says, his fingers waving towards the file on his desk. It looks nonchalant but Alec is on full alert immediately.

“The Circle hasn't been active in more than a decade,” he says.

“It's just rumours at this point. I guess Idris didn't want to risk our diplomatic trust, in case it turns out to be more than that.”

Alec abandons his husband and grabs the sheet with the Idris coat of arms from Magnus’ desk, reading the memo.

“That's more than just rumours,” he states, his heart sinking. “But Hodge… he was one of my tutors.” And a former Circle member. Just like his parents.

“He wouldn't be the first to return to the dark side,” Magnus muses.

“He visited Valentine. That's hardly a return to his old ways.”

“They talked about the past… and you, our wedding…”

“Knowing that the State was listening in,” Alec points out. And there's nothing incriminating as far as Alec can see. Only the fact that Hodge has met up with other ex Circle members over the span of the past few months. Sure, they could have spoken in code, but why would he blow his cover by visiting Valentine in jail. He had to know that this would spark suspicion. “Hodge isn't stupid,” Alec states.

Magnus breathes a sigh. “It's not our job to decide how real the threat is. We have professionals for that.”

Alec bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from protesting. This used to be his job—assessing danger potentials, protecting clients, writing memos like this. His wouldn't have been based on so little information, but he knows that Jace's would have looked like the one in his hand. If he hadn't dismissed the whole thing as nonsense right away. This is probably just an over-eager Shadowhunter trying to climb the ranks, using Alec's current ‘popularity’ for his own advantage.

“Alexander?” Magnus’ voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“As you said: The Circle hasn't been active for a long while. And Idris won't risk a fall-out.” He takes the sheet from Alec's hands, filling them with his own. “Did Hodge train you pre or post transition?”

“Pre. He was my weapons instructor and history tutor, but we did train a couple times after the Academy. He refined my technique.”

“Any signs that he might have harboured resentment towards you?”

Alec shakes his head. “That he had to follow my orders at times surely wasn't fun for a man more than double my age, but no.”

“Then it probably was just the fact that he and your family used to be close. Despite Shadowhunter traditions, gossip is people's favourite pastime.”

Alec nods despite doubting that. There are enough people in Idris with whom Hodge could have gossiped about them. The whole thing seems fishy. But Magnus is right. This isn't his job anymore. He's one of the penguins from Madagascar now. Smile and wave. At least the tuxedoed birds had fun going on secret missions. Fuck! He misses being a Shadowhunter. Not a citizen of Idris but someone protecting others and fighting for what is right. Or maybe he just misses the routines and discipline coming with it, the ease of life when you're just a body, a tiny wheel in big machinery. He really should get back into proper training beyond pumping iron. Otherwise, he might just crack up. If he isn't already doing so.

Magnus could kick himself. He should have stayed in bed, keeping Alec there all morning, advancing on their breakthrough. Instead, his husband is back in the gym, likely working out his frustration—with himself, with him, and probably life itself. He shouldn't have looked at the dossier. It's probably nothing. Forging a war with Edom as the Circle did in the past is one thing. But attacking an Edom prince on foreign ground? The Circle has to know that that wouldn't find favour, even in Shadowhunters sympathetic to the cause. Idris alienated enough countries with their wedding farce.

Maybe he should join Alec in the gym. He hasn't trained for a long while now. Granted, he's not as disciplined as his husband when it comes to lifting weights. Not anymore. He's become more of a yoga/tai chi guy.

Magnus takes a deep breath and gets out of his robe. He can better use the time until Alec's return to centre himself.

It doesn't take long to surrender to the familiar flow, body and mind settling as focus replaces feelings. He doesn't feel the stream of time, the sight of Alec watching him when he comes to the end of his routine a surprise as he breaches the surface of reality.

“Enjoying the view?” he asks as he slips back into his robe. Alec nods, cheeks pink. Magnus stalls for a second, overwhelmed for no reason other than the love and awe on his husband's face. For all the worries lying heavily between them still, the look fills his heart with molten warmth.

“Ready for breakfast?” Magnus asks, tying his robe.

“I'm starving,” Alec chuckles.

“Well, we can't let that happen, can we?” Magnus returns with a smile. He places a quick peck on Alec's lips, ready to call the servant waiting for their breakfast order, but his husband has other ideas. He pulls him tight, clearly starving for more than just food.

“Alexander,” Magnus chuckles against his lips, overwhelmed by Alec's unbridled kisses. “What's this all about? I mean… I'm not complaining but…”

Alec just shrugs. “I just thought… we could...” He wets his lips. “Have a repeat,” he all but whispers.

Magnus beams at him. A breakthrough, at last.

“I can't believe they chose this one for the archive,” Alec chuckles. He doesn't look very royal in the picture of his only beach holiday before his honeymoon. Unless one deems the way he holds his shovel as such. But he will never hold a sceptre. Magnus will, on his coronation day.

Magnus laughs along, playing with his hair. He's probably just relieved that they've managed to break through the awkward fog between them. Their second try was a complete failure. Magnus thinks Alec put too much pressure on himself. But no. He simply expected too much. He hung his hopes too high. It just serves him right. Yesterday was a glitch. Alec should have known. His body is a traitor.

“Are there any photos you want to delete from your file?” Magnus asks. Alec sinks a little more into his body. It's nice being held like this, comforting in ways he can't fathom. Magnus has held him in bed dozens of times before, but this feels different. More deliberate maybe. Not that Alec has to be tethered. His self-loathing is a very grounding thing in itself.

“What use would that have? There are enough pictures of me in girl mode floating around the Internet anyway,” Alec replies.

“Not provided by the Crown,” Magnus says.

Alec clicks through the portfolio for a second time. His mother was gracious in her selection. The only picture with Alec in a dress is one where he's standing half-hidden behind Jace. His hairdo is pretty girlish but well. It shows way less of his puberal body than his official Olympic podium pictures.

“It's alright,” he says, stopping at their official wedding photo. It never ceases to stab him like a knife. Magnus’ hand curls around his shoulder, squeezing. Alec knows they can't take this one off the record, no matter how hard his mind tried to erase that day from his memory.

“You were so angry at me then,” he says quietly, guilt and sadness tightening his chest.

“I was many things that day,” Magnus sighs. “So were you.”

Alec nods. How the fuck is he supposed to frame this in a good way? He simply can't. He ruined the most special day in both of their lives. It's a miracle that Magnus has forgiven him, that he didn't throw him away right then and there. No one would have blamed him, least of all Alec.

Magnus clicks the forward button, their official Christmas picture showing up next on the screen. This is more how Alec sees himself, make-up and photoshop helping along for sure. Alec brushes his thumb over his beard absentmindedly. How much longer will he need it to feel more manly? Gender dysphoria is such a bitch. He likes himself freshly shaven way more, the cut of his jaw so much more pronounced without facial hair. But he simply can't help it. He could ask for Magnus’ barber to shave him. Or put the blades in his bathroom to their designated use.

His mind gets caught on them. He should throw them away. But what if the pressure rises too much, unbearably so? His hands are always on display now, people caring about unblemished skin. And his well-being, he supposes. It's still a strange concept to him. Bruises and cuts were so normalised in his old life, no one saw them as a red flag. But Magnus sure does, so Alec hides from him, from his wandering hands that he loves so much. All Alec could think about earlier during their attempt of rolling in the sheets was the danger of his underwear pushing up, revealing the healing flesh. He should have changed into the boxer shorts from the day before that covered him well to the knees. But hindsight is always 20/20.

“I wish we could do it all over again,” he murmurs, meaning more than their wedding day. So much has gone wrong, their life still scattered with sandtraps due to it.

“Who says we can't?” Magnus asks. It's a nice sentiment. Alec gives him that. And still.

“What's been done is done,” he says and closes the folder on the screen. “My mother always said we can't change the past just how we conduct ourselves in the present. It figures why she would say that, but it still holds true.”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” Magnus muses. Alec nods along. He knows Magnus detests his mother. He doesn't blame him. Alec feels strangely empty when it comes to her. He's probably numb, pushing his feelings so far down that he can't feel anything anymore. But it's all he can do to reduce the pressure. And still, he feels like crumbling.

‘Life is about sacrifices,’ Maryse once told him. He has lived according to that teaching ever since.

“Have you decided which one to put up?” Magnus asks. Alec frowns at his question, then remembers that he said he wanted to go through the pictures in his file to pick a few for their private photo gallery. It was a ruse, of course. But it made Magnus’ eyes light up in joy. So Alec picks a few. He should claim more space in their home, he reckons. Not that he'd dare change anything. Magnus is the one with good taste, and Alec is blessed to be one of his cherished ‘possessions’.

“What just went through your mind?” Magnus asks, his voice gentle.

Alec lets out the breath caught in his lungs. “That I'm lucky to be yours,” he replies quietly. Magnus’ eyes grow impossibly softer.

“And I'm lucky to be yours,” Magnus returns, gentle lips catching Alec's. He allows himself to relax into it, the laptop soon abandoned on the bedside table. Alec surrenders. He can be Einstein's fool* one more time.

Chapter Text

“Why so nervous, my friend?” Ragnor asks. Magnus rolls his eyes. This man always smells a rat ten miles against the wind.

“Alec's parabatai has arrived,” he replies, running his fingers over the impeccable tablecloth of the banquet table.

“I see,” Ragnor says.

Magnus exhales slowly, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing with it. Ragnor always has that effect on him. That's the real reason why he asked him to come over, not his pretence of needing his help. Ragnor isn't interested in party planning, unless it's one of his Whisky & Cigars nights. But Magnus needs his presence. When did he become so needy?

No, not needy, he reminds himself. Leaning on friends is neither that nor weak. It's a hard learnt truth. He still forgets it from time to time. Not that his friends would allow that to happen. Even in moments like this.

“We welcomed her together, but I think they need to talk alone,” Magnus sighs.

“And now, you're feeling like bouncing off the walls.” It's not even a question.

“I wasn't even aware that I'm…” Magnus trails off. What is he? Anxious? Controlling? Protective? Maybe a little bit of everything. “It was hard leaving him behind,” he settles on.

“Doing the right thing is often hard.”

Magnus huffs a laugh. He knows. God, he knows. But Alec has been hurt under his watch so many times. Every single one was one too many. Magnus can't help but be worried sick. What if Jenny's public help is a red herring, purposefully planned by Idris? What if Jenny is out for revenge?

But Alec is a grown man. Magnus mustn't allow himself to restrict him in the name of protection. There's a thin line between caring for somebody and babying them, taking away their agency. Alec hasn’t had the chance to fully grow into himself yet. He had to grow up too early in so many ways, but in others, he's still as innocent as a child. But he has so much potential for growth, is so strong and resilient. He can handle the reunion with someone who used to be close to him.

“Finally proper music,” Ragnor states as they watch the string quintet putting up their set.

Magnus chuckles. “The band will play in the winter garden. But there'll be plenty of sophisticated entertainment here in the Golden Hall.”

“So Auld Lang Syne here and Rock'nRoll over there?” Ragnor scoffs.

“You sound like a centenarian,” Magnus chuckles.

“I am way older than you, my darling friend.”

“Oh, you,” Magnus says, patting his arm. Of course, Ragnor is right. He is the only true father figure he's ever had, strict when needed, mischievous when possible, and most of all loving, despite his occasional grumpiness.

“If done right, age comes with wisdom,” Ragnor says.

Magnus releases a breath. “Some things, wisdom can't fix,” he states. Ragnor tilts his head in a silent offer. Magnus scans the room, everyone busy with following his precise orders.

“I always thought I'd make a good husband, one day.”

“And you think you're not?”

Magnus shrugs. “I failed Alec, even before our wedding day.”

“You're not responsible for his family's deceit.”

Magnus bites his tongue so as not to speak out of turn. This is neither the time nor the place to bash his parents-in-law. This isn't even about them. Not really.

“I promised him a bright future, and then, I left him to the wolves.” That's the crux of it, isn't it? And he did the same with Asmodeus. If he hadn't left Alec's side at the wedding party… Or if he had made it clear right from the start that Alec should double check every single word coming out of his father's mouth… Well, he didn't. He thought everything would be alright if it was just the two of them. Magnus still can't shake the guilt.

“You thought he was safe with them,” Ragnor cuts off the bout of self-loathing tightening Magnus’ chest.

Magnus shakes his head. “The first time I talked with his mother, she made it clear that her son wasn't one of us queers. How could I believe for one second that he was safe with her?”

“Because you thought dear Isabelle was conversing with him.”

“She didn't realise it either. He was all on his own. It’s a miracle he's even talking to any of us anymore.”

Ragnor gives him a sad, knowing smile. “Your Alexander knows who the perpetrators are. They aren't to be found in this palace.”

Magnus lets out a ragged breath. “I suppose you're right,” he says.

“Of course, I am. So… ice sculptures. Really?” Ragnor asks, his raised eyebrows a challenge of their own. Magnus laughs out loud.

“Of course. Only the best for my guests.”

Ragnor snorts. Magnus smiles at him. He gives Ragnor five hours to ask him for the name of the talented artist.

“Whisky?” Alec asks as he pours himself a dram. More to have something in his hand than anything else. Jenny shakes her head. How someone freshly spit out from an aeroplane can look so put together is a miracle to him. But Jenny has always been a picture of grace, a perfect young woman then, a respectable grown woman now. Her hair is loose, something that only rarely happened during their time at the Academy. She mourned his long hair when he cut it off. That bob will haunt him for a lifetime.

“Still abstinent?” he asks.

“You used to be, too,” she replies, not unkindly.

Alec sighs. “Booze is dangerous.” At least he used to think so. Still does, if he's absolutely honest. He's seen good men go down with Lady Alcohol. And still, he takes a sip, fighting and failing to make a face as if he'd just bitten a lemon. Jenny laughs out loud, slapping her hand over her mouth. Alec joins her. “I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to it. But it's part of every banquet, every private meeting…” he says. Jenny nods in understanding.

“I'm lucky to be stationed in Jakarta,” she smirks.

Alec stares at her, flabbergasted. “You're in Indonesia? Not with Amira in Mumbai?”

“I used to be.” She scrunches her nose. Alec remembers that tell too well. He just walked into a sand trap.

“What happened?” he asks, sinking into the armchair opposite her. Jenny worries her lip. Alec's heart plummets to the floor.

“How… how long?” he croaks.

“My assignment starts January 3.” She quirks a sad smile.

“Jenny,” Alec presses out.

“It's okay. I asked for the transfer.”

“To the other side of the world?”

“Different from the Mumbai Institute, Jakarta sees me as an asset. It was that or Edinburgh, and you know how much I hate bagpipes.” She chuckles.

“Did Idris sell you that you only had two options? Jace would have accepted you with open arms.”

“New York was never my city. And I'm happy to be far, far away from my family. Also, I'm sure you and your husband will visit the country of his ancestors now and then, won't you?”

“Jenny. Your family is in Paris.”

“Well, my family can kiss my tush. Do you really think I'll ever forgive them for what they did to both of us?”

“But you got Amira. Her family is…”

“Just as bad as ours.”

Alec feels like he's forgotten how to breathe. He destroyed her future not once but twice.

“For what it's worth: Our mothers just wanted our best,” he states. He doesn't even know why. Harm reduction, probably.

Jenny gapes at him. “Are you honestly defending what they did?”

Alec downs his drink. “Not really,” he says. “But…”

“...it hurts less than the truth,” Jenny finishes his sentence. She shakes her head. “They made me hate you. I blamed you for everything that went wrong after. All those years… When I saw the reports of your wedding, I didn't sympathise… I was so angry.”

“I deserved that. All of this could have been avoided if I had trusted you with the truth.”

Jenny shakes her head. “But you did. And I blew it.”

“I should have been frank with you,” Alec protests. “No stupid movie night with cryptic questions.”

Jenny chuckles. “Well, that you even wanted to watch a movie with me should've tipped me off that something was wrong. But I was too self-centred back then to see it.”

Alec breathes a sigh. “We both were. For different reasons. I don't blame you. This was so far outside of your scope.”

“I should have known that you wanting to discuss something outside of Academy topics was huge. And instead I… I wish I could turn back time and be the friend you deserved.”

Alec nods in acknowledgement. They could have been so good together, taking on the world as one. What a loss, both for them and Idris.

“It's all water under the bridge, Jen. You were a great friend the other day. You saved my ass,” Alec tries to make the sadness in her eyes disappear.

Jenny quirks a tiny smile. “You saved mine more than once, and look how I paid you back.”

Alec shakes his head. “You didn't need saving. You just needed someone not poking around in your wounds.”

Jenny's lips twitch. “Without you, I wouldn't be here anymore.” She scratches the rune on her wrist. “I wouldn't be a stationed Shadowhunter either.”

Alec tears his eyes away from the well-covered scar. “You deserved so much better after Becca's death. Your parents dumped me on you. As if I could have ever been able to replace her.”

Jenny sighs. “You did, in certain ways. And then, they took you away from me. And me from you. I'm just glad you had your siblings. I had nobody left who understood me, who truly cared, who sat with me in silence, not judging. I just had my horses, and they are good listeners, but their input is a little limited.”

Alec chuckles. “I know it's cold comfort but… I'm here now.”

Jenny nods. “A prince,” she smirks.

Alec huffs a laugh. “Well… who would have thought.”

“Are you happy?” Jenny asks, her voice so tender it rips right through him.

“Magnus is a wonderful man,” he replies.

“I'm sure he is, but that's not what I asked.”

Alec exhales slowly. “I'm trying hard to be.”

“I know you can achieve everything when you put your mind to it.” He once told her that. Oh, how times have changed.

“It's been a few rough weeks,” Alec confesses. He doesn't know why, but somehow, he still trusts her. Maybe there was more that once bound them than tradition and duty. How much did he rate down their relationship just to protect his heart?

“Wanna share them with me?” Jenny asks, eyes searching.

“I don't want to overstrain your generosity.”

“So much, huh? Why don't you order some Shirley Temples and tell me about how you met your husband?”

Alec opens his mouth to decline the offer but then he remembers how they used to sit on the cold tiles of their shared bathroom, cleaning each other's wounds and sharing snippets of their struggles with each other. Jenny might well be the only true friend he has left in the world. It would be so good to talk with somebody who gets him.

“How long do you have?” he asks, his chuckle an offer to cop out before he starts for real.

“His Royal Highness insisted on me staying in the palace, so I guess as long as he can go without you.”

Alec chuckles. Given Magnus’ schedule, he supposes they'll have until about an hour before the other guests arrive. Alec takes a deep breath before he jumps into the deep end.

Chapter Text

“I'm sure it is,” Izzy says, giggling as a servant opens the door for them. Magnus laughs with her. Despite everything, it's good to have her back. Maybe she can help Alec heal. It's a lot to ask from the span of a fortnight, but she could listen to him, make him open up about the things he refuses to discuss with him. She could help him finally pick a valet, decide which uniform to wear, which suits to take. It's all so superficial, but such things have managed to be a lifeline for Magnus when he felt adrift in the past. It's likely wishful thinking that it might help Alec, but his sister's presence could anchor him.

Magnus pushes away the unease pulling his stomach tight. Ragnor's well meant words didn't have a lasting effect, especially not with the way he finds Alec. His back is turned to the door as he sits on the couch, but Magnus doesn't miss the way Alec's hand runs over his face before he turns, Jenny's eyes mirroring the tears that must have run over his face before he erased every trace of them with a long perfected move. And still, a crooked smile welcomes his sister and future brother-in-law. The sight makes Magnus’ heart ache.

“Izzy, you look gorgeous!” Alec exclaims. Jenny isn't as fast as him, but she sports an equally blinding smile from her spot on the couch cushion next to him. Isabelle frowns at the duo before she mirrors their faces.

“Jenny,” she pushes out. “What an unexpected surprise. Since when have you two been in cahoots again?”

Alec gapes at his sister, then at Magnus. Magnus is as confused as him. There's no way that Isabelle doesn't know, is there? The European tabloid press had a field day, the gossip wave just slowly ebbing out.

“I made a bit of a mess, but we fixed it,” Jenny replies, standing up, looking uneasy.

“What kind of mess?” Izzy asks, shaking Jenny's offered hand.

“It was all over the Internet,” Alec croaks.

“We didn't see anything,” Simon says. Magnus gauges Alec's reaction. His husband simply huffs a mirthless laugh. Magnus can see the guilt and self-loathing in the rise of his eyebrows. He surely thinks he was too full of himself thinking he might have endangered Magnus’ claim to the throne.

“The US isn't interested in little kingdom drama,” Magnus chirps to lighten the mood. He fails. The following silence feels suffocating.

“I should get ready for the party,” Jenny cuts through the tension. “I'll see you at the ball.” She curtseys in front of Magnus, attempting to do the same with Alec, but he stretches out his hand instead. Jenny's gaze jumps from his hand to his eyes and back. She swallows hard. Magnus watches with rapt attention. What is happening? The air seems thick with another kind of tension all of a sudden.

Jenny wets her lips, a shy smile tugging on them when she doesn't take the offered hand but clasps Alec's forearm. It takes a second of unbridled surprise washing over Alec's face before his fingers curl around hers, completing the Spartan handshake. Magnus watches in awe at the way Alec lights up. Has he ever seen him glow like this?

The satisfied grin on Isabelle's lips proves Magnus’ gut feeling right. This is a special moment for the two ex-parabatais, pieces shifting into place that should have never been separated.

“See you later,” Alec says after a long moment of smiling at Jenny.

“I'll save a dance for you,” Jenny says, grinning. She nods to everybody around, then takes her leave.

“Are you okay?” Izzy asks, squeezing Alec's arm.

“Sure. Why wouldn't I be?”

“That was…. intense. And unconventional.”

“Well, I guess my whole existence is,” Alec quips. Isabelle seems to buy it as she throws her arms around her brother, pulling him close. Magnus isn't that easily convinced but he has to postpone the quest to find out, probably to the new year. They have to get ready now.

The knock at the door proves this thought just a moment later, Magnus’ valet arriving on time. It pains Magnus to leave Alec without properly checking on him. But Isabelle will take care of him for the time being. Well, she better. She still has to make up for her past behaviour. Though, Magnus seems to be the only one thinking that. Alec is too forgiving. But who is Magnus to judge? He never had a sibling, someone connected to him from birth. Maybe that's way different to friendship. Magnus has had to let go of some close connections himself since choosing Alec. He still hasn't processed those losses.

Magnus kisses Alec before he leaves to change. The old year is down for the count. Maybe, this can be a new beginning for all of them.

The grand ballroom glitters under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, their light fracturing into a thousand tiny rainbows across the polished marble floor. The scent of jasmine and rose petals drifts through the air, mingling with the soft murmur of laughter and the delicate strains of a string quartet. Royals and dignitaries swirl in elegant gowns and tailored suits, but Alec stands apart, wrapped in a quiet bubble of his own.

This day has been a lot, but what is new? All days have been since he stepped out of the crowd into an unknown future. It's too much to retell, even if he'd feel like sharing. Isabelle tried to squeeze it out of him, but he couldn't. If for a lack of trust or his usual self-sacrificing tendencies, Alec isn't even sure. It is what it is. Maybe that's simply a part of growing up—growing apart, building separate lives. Time will tell, he supposes.

His eyes find Magnus’ gaze across the room. It is as gentle as the man himself, a caress. Alec's heart hammers, a mix of nerves and longing tightening his chest. The past two months have been a storm—promises tangled with doubt and unspoken fears. But here, now, under the glittering chandeliers, those shadows fall away with one shared look. Maybe their travels are exactly what they need to truly settle. Hiding away, hoping for all of their troubles to vanish hasn't served them so far, has it? Yes, it has brought some clarity, yet pain, too. But his cuts are healing and his fingers feel normal again. Asmodeus’ warnings still ring in his ears, the fact that he must have spies in Magnus’ palace never fully leaving Alec's mind, his threats not forgotten. Alec waits for the other shoe to drop, but here, with Magnus’ full attention zoomed in on him, his mind lets go of all his fears. This is safe, because it's them. Them and a ballroom full of people. But no one else matters.

Magnus ends the conversation he was having on the other side of the room, crossing the dancefloor, the dancing couples making room for him in an unrehearsed, yet perfect choreography. His smile is gentle and full of warmth when he ends up in front of his husband.

“May I have this dance?” he asks.

Alec nods, his breath catching in his throat. “Always,” he manages. They've only had two dances so far, so this still feels new and Alec a little fragile. Magnus let him lead last time, as if to make up for the painful memory of their wedding dance.

Their hands meet—Magnus’ manicured fingers curling around Alec's calloused ones—and the world seems to hold its breath, time standing still. The music shifts into a slow waltz, and they move together with effortless grace. Alec's hand finds the small of Magnus’ back, steadying him, anchoring them both.

“You look… breathtaking tonight,” Magnus murmurs, his voice low and intimate. Alec flushes, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Elias proposed the fitted satin suit. Alec has never worn anything like this before, but next to Magnus’ radiant self, it looks nearly modest.

“So do you,” Alec says. “Like sunlight caught in silk.”

Magnus’ eyes soften. “I've missed this—us. The quiet moments between the chaos,” he speaks into his ear.

Alec leans in, his forehead resting lightly against Magnus’. “Me too. I know the year ahead will be hard. State visits, politics, expectations. But right now, here with you, none of that matters.”

Magnus graces him with a knowing smile. “We'll face it all together. No matter what.”

Alec nods. He can feel the truth of it despite the guilt of his past failures still nagging at him. But he will enter the new year, leaving all of that behind—his shame and weaknesses, his doubts and fears. His parabatai returned to him, their bond stronger than what it used to be when they still shared the rune. He knows now what Jenny truly sacrificed with that interview. They share the pain but also the will to reclaim what was taken from them. It's a bittersweet triumph.

But those thoughts are just a blip as they swirl past Jenny. His eyes are back on Magnus a fraction of a moment later. This man has become his world. Magnus is proud of him, showing him off all night, weaving praise and awe into every single conversation. Maybe he's just flattering him, but Alec takes it for once, not only with pink warming his freshly shaven cheeks, but with molten pride filling his chest. They've come so far, living through enough disasters for a lifetime in the span of a few weeks. And they're still standing, have gotten impossibly closer. Not everything is fine, far from it. But here, under the eyes of royals and friends, Alec can feel their bond flourishing more than in the bubble they've created where every failure, every shortcoming somehow felt mightier than they truly were.

Maybe he's simply had a little too much champagne. Maybe he's drunk on love and Magnus. Either way, Alec feels light for once, carefree and enough. And isn't that something he wants to get used to?

They dance until the clock in the tower begins its countdown, the first chimes echoing softly through the ballroom. Alec's voice is barely a whisper when he says, “A new year, a new beginning.”

Magnus’ grip tightens, his smile radiant as he nods.

As the final bell tolls midnight, the room bursts into cheers and the sky outside ignites with fireworks. But Alec and Magnus remain still, lost in each other's eyes, their love a quiet, fierce flame that promises strength, hope, and endless tomorrows.

Chapter Text

Alec sits at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with his wedding ring. He shouldn't be so nervous. He planned all of this. Well, it seemed like a good idea in his head. And last night, when they returned from the party, Magnus was all over him. He was a little tipsy but playful. He probably would have gone with the programme if Alec had suggested it. Or not. Consent is still a sore spot between them, especially when it comes to Alec's. But Alec was too tired for it anyway. The lightness of last night might have helped him, then. Now however, he feels a little silly. What if Magnus laughs finding him like this?

No, he wouldn't. But maybe he doesn't feel like sex, and that would be a bit embarrassing. Alec is halfway through talking himself out of his plans when Magnus starts stirring under the sheets.

“No,” comes mumbled from behind, a fumbling hand hitting his side.

Alec huffs a laugh, pressing into the warm touch. “What is it?”

“Don't train today. Please.” Alec can hear the pout in Magnus’ voice.

“I wasn't going to,” Alec replies and turns around, taking in Magnus’ tousled hair. He loves him like this, stripped of everything but his inherent beauty.

“You weren't?” Magnus mumbles.

“No, babe. I just had to get something,” Alec says and slips back under the bedspread. His heart nearly beats out of his chest when Magnus cuddles close, throwing a leg over his thighs.

“Are you feeling well?” Alec asks. He didn't have enough to drink to struggle with a hangover. Magnus is a seasoned drinker compared to him but he went a bit beyond his usual.

“With you, always,” Magnus mumbles into the skin of Alec's neck.

“You know what I mean,” Alec chuckles.

“I'm good,” Magnus says, his fingertips sending goosebumps over Alec's skin as they skim over his stomach. Just a little lower and he would find…

Magnus’ hand stills when his wrist bumps into it. Alec holds his breath.

Magnus pulls back from his neck, inquiring eyes and a small smile welcoming Alec. Alec's cheeks are burning.

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes. “You put it on.” Alec nods. Magnus’ hand runs over his side, eyes still searching.

“I—” Alec has to clear his suddenly desert-dry throat. He wets his lips, stalling for a moment. “I thought we could start the year with something new, taking things to another level.”

Magnus smiles at him. “You feel ready?”

Alec nods. “Not gonna lie—I'm nervous. To do something wrong. But I really wanna. If you want, that is.”

Magnus chuckles. “Well, I wasn't expecting this, but if you feel ready, I am, too. Let me just clean up real quick.”

“You don't hafta. I don't mind.”

Magnus huffs a surprised laugh. “Well, that might well be, but I danced all night and didn't take a shower after. Do you wanna join me?”

“I already…” Alec trails off.

Magnus gives him a knowing smile. “Couldn't sleep?”

“Not when I decided to…” Alec chuckles. No, he won't let nerves get the better of him. He wants this, and Magnus wants it, too. He can see the hunger bleeding into his husband's eyes.

“I'll be quick then,” Magnus says and gets up. He brushes a hand over Alec's shoulder before he turns to the bathroom door. He's halfway there when he swirls around and makes a beeline to his dresser. Alec can't see what he takes out but the mischievous look Magnus gives him on the way back is promising.

Alec uses the short time that Magnus spends in the shower to drape himself over the bed. He feels a little silly, but Magnus bought the leather harness for a reason. Because he thought he would look hot in it. Alec never thought of himself in such terms, but he wants to. He wants to feel confident in his body. Beyond sparring and shooting arrows…

The leather thing on its own would probably make him feel more confident than the boxers he's sporting. But his fresh scars are still too visible. He's so frigging angry at past Alec. He spoils everything. But he'll put that energy into fucking Magnus so good. That's the plan, at least. He's nervous. Of course, he is. Just good that he can't lose his boner.

Alec chuckles. God, he hopes Magnus told him the truth and he really likes to be pegged. Alec had to search up the term. It makes him dysphoric but there doesn't really seem to be a term for someone like him. Even ‘strapping’ is more of a lesbian term. But well. He'll give Magnus dick, he supposes. That doesn't sound very classy, though. God, Isabelle was right all along. He's way overthinking this. What does the wording matter? Nothing. At least not a second later when Magnus enters their bedroom dressed in the hottest briefs Alec has ever seen.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

Magnus smirks at him, his hips swaying as he walks over. Alec loves the way he moves. Like a cat, smooth, self-confident. For good reason, and still, probably also the result of a long process of self-acceptance. Magnus is so unapologetically himself, Alec can only hope that it will rub off on him.

Alec takes a deep breath when Magnus settles lasciviously on his thighs, his heart beating wildly in his chest. This is it. They're really doing it.

Magnus bows down, catching Alec's lips with his mouth. He kisses him dizzy, the world shrinking to this moment and place in time.

Magnus looks smug and satisfied when he pulls back, leaving Alec's lips tingling and his body hot and buzzing. Alec wants to make him look as dishevelled as he feels, so he swoops him up, switching their spots in one smooth motion.

“That was graceful,” Magnus chuckles.

“Shadowhunter,” Alec smirks and dives right back into a kiss, his nerves calming with every passing second. Magnus so clearly is into this, into his plans, into him. It's a heady feeling. Magnus is hard against him, and Alec hasn't even touched him there yet.

They explore their bodies with lips and hands, Alec building more and more confidence with every reaction he pulls from his man.

“It's a shame I'll have to undress you,” Alec says, skimming his fingers over Magnus’ length. God, he loves Magnus’ cock, hard and smooth, somehow even more enticing under the thin layer of fabric.

“Who says you have to?” Magnus asks, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Alec gapes at him, his eyebrow knitting together as he tries to make sense of his husband's words.

“Give me a little room, pretty boy, and I'll show you,” Magnus says. Alec complies, forgetting a moment how to breathe when he sees the briefs are open on the rear, framing Magnus’ cheeks perfectly.

“I didn't know—” he trails off.

“I bought it for our wedding night,” Magnus explains. “Well, it was one option out of three,” he adds, wiggling his butt. Alec chuckles.

“You're full of surprises,” he says and runs his fingers over the exposed skin. He wets his lips. “You wanna do it like this?” he croaks.

“I want what you want,” Magnus says, turning his head, eyes searching.

Alec feels his cheeks burning when he says, “I wanna look at you. Like… your face.”

Magnus smiles softly and turns underneath him.

“I read we'd need lube,” Alec presses out.

“You did research?” Magnus teases.

“Well, butt sex isn't exactly part of the sex ed curriculum in Idris,” Alec says, chuckling. Magnus nods in understanding. He pulls the drawer of his bedside table open and hands Alec a clear bottle. Alec studies it and frowns. “There are special one's for anal? What other lubes could one need?”

“Do you really wanna talk about that now?” Magnus gauges, gentle as ever.

Alec shakes his head. “You're right. Maybe another time.”

Magnus nods, looking so damn perfect against the golden sheets. “Wanna keep those on?” he asks, running his fingertips over Alec's boxers. Alec nods. They'll probably make a mess of them with the lube and stuff, but they are already ruined anyway. Magnus’ bedroom kisses always make him terribly wet.

“Alright then,” Magnus says, cupping his cheek with a gentle hand. “Wanna start?”

“I thought we already did,” Alec says, looking pointedly at Magnus’ still tented briefs. Magnus laughs, eyes shining.

“You're right, my love. Do you wanna open me up?”

Alec draws a deep breath.

“Or do you want me to?”

Alec shakes his head. “No. Just tell me if I do something wrong.”

“Just go slow, and it will be fine,” Magnus reassures him.

“‘Fine’ isn't exactly what I'm aiming for, babe,” Alec says, popping the bottle open. The lube feels cool and squishy against his skin. He moves it between his fingers, trying to warm it up and let himself relax. This is supposed to be hot, and it is. It's just nerves, he reminds himself.

Magnus takes his chin with gentle fingers, waiting until their eyes meet. “Don't worry about making it perfect. The only thing that matters is that it's us, together. No pressure, just you and me.”

Alec quirks a smile. “You're right. I love you,” he says and leans forward to kiss Magnus as he touches him with slick fingers. Magnus’ eyes stay closed when Alec breaks the kiss, a hum of appreciation filling the space between them. It turns into moans when Alec grows bold enough to add a second finger. Magnus opens up so easily. Memories of their honeymoon cross Alec's mind unbidden. Alec banishes them. There's no need to compare. This here, this is what he wants, what he craves.

“It can't be that hard,” Alec wheezes from laughter when he's on his fourth try to finally fill Magnus for good. Damn lube. But Magnus takes it with humour, doing his best to offer himself in the perfect angle as he tries to suppress his giggles. Probably as not to discourage him, but Alec is kinda grateful for the comic relief. It's so easy with Magnus. No judgement, no expectations. He's so present, focused on enjoying himself and Alec.

His laughing face morphs into a look of bliss and wonder when Alec slides into him. Alec stalls, studying Magnus’ face for signs of pain, but there is none. Still, he waits for Magnus to put things into motion. And he does.

It doesn't take long for them to find a rhythm, the movement unfamiliar but nice. Alec grinds into Magnus with a single-focused mind, his own erection grinding into the rear of his prosthesis. It's a nice feeling. Better than he thought. But nothing compared to the bliss playing out on Magnus’ face, his breathing turning into short huffs as he's getting close.

Alec abandons his own pleasure, inwardly cursing his somewhat lopsided training. He'll have to work in hip thrusts and other stuff. But he won't give up now, not with Magnus pulling on his own cock. They both are aiming for Magnus’ peak, for him to fall apart in pleasure. What are burning muscles compared to that?

Even so, Alec soars on a high greater than any medal he's ever won in his life. And when Magnus comes with his name on his lips—Alec close but not quite there yet—he has to admit Magnus was right. This is theirs, just he and him, love and passion joining them as one.

“You never cease to amaze me, Alexander,” Magnus pants, sweaty and radiant in his afterglow. Alec shakes his head, a few tears running over his face. He doesn't care.

“Thank you,” he all but whispers as he leans his forehead against Magnus’.

“What for?” Magnus asks quietly. Good question. Too many things to name, so Alec chooses the one that holds so many of them.

“For loving me.”

Magnus brushes the tears away and pulls Alec close. “Easiest thing I've ever done,” he says.

“It's so not,” Alec murmurs into his skin.

“The challenges around it? No. But my love for you? It's like breathing, as if I was always meant for you.” Alec presses closer, his throat too tight with emotions to speak. Like breathing. Alec closes his eyes and saves those two words in his heart.

“I feel like I can finally breathe with you by my side,” Alec says.

Magnus’ lips twitch into a shy smile. He runs his fingers through Alec's messy hair. His eyes shimmer treacherously in the morning sun. Alec pulls him close, their lips finding each other with ease.

As if I was always meant for you.

Maybe Magnus is onto something.

Chapter Text

“Breakfast is served, Sir.”

“Thank you, Heidi,” Alec says and pulls the chair out for Magnus. He could have let a servant do that but he never does, and it somehow still warms Magnus to the core every single time.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?”

“No, that would be everything.”

Alec probably just wants everyone out of their private space. It's something Magnus loves about him. Camille always wanted the winter garden or one of the palace's dining rooms. Magnus loves the privacy of his own dining table, pouring each other coffee, handing each other things, not waiting for servants to do all those mundane tasks. Here, he's not the Prince Royal. Not when the front door closes. Here, he's Alexander's husband. That's so much more meaningful, on a personal level, at least.

“Our last morning in Edom,” Alec states. They kept the day mostly empty. The upcoming weeks will be filled with so many people and places, Magnus’ head is swimming just thinking about it. He's never done this alone. Not without Asmodeus as the main focus by his side. He wishes he were a trustworthy father, one who he could go to and ask for advice, but everything he's learnt so far must suffice. They will be diligently briefed every day anyway.

“What's on your mind?” Alec asks after a few minutes of silence. Magnus huffs a laugh. They've had so many meetings over the past few days. And Magnus saw the plans for Spain. It's a huge thing that they will start their tour there. Military parades in their honour, meetings with the royal family and the prime minister, working breakfasts, luncheons and dinners… There's so much waiting for them with little room to breathe, to be. But that's part of his job description, his duties, and there surely is no other person better equipped to support him than Alec. But he can't help worrying.

The conversation with the manager of the Edom Olympic Team went well. Alec's training and participation in tournaments are a done deal for when they return. Magnus has no doubts that Alec will ace it, that he'll win hearts and medals left and right. But he knows now that Alec won't join the military sports programme, even though every single Olympian Edom has ever sent was part of it. Asmodeus vetoed it, because of course he did. For others, that might not be a big deal, and Alec took it with grace. But it has more implications beyond the technicalities of sponsorship. Contrary to Magnus’ hopes, Alec will stand next to him, wearing a suit during the official welcome ceremony at the Spanish Royal Palace. It pains him. Alec was a soldier much more than Magnus has ever been. He's seen combat and missions. Yes, Magnus went to a military school, earnt most of his insignia. But the battles he has fought were of a very different kind of nature.

“There's always a private suitcase that can be filled with anything we need beyond toiletries and clothes,” Magnus replies. “Anything you wanna pack?”

The blush blooming on Alec's cheeks tells Magnus everything. The past few days have been filled with sexual exploration. They've taken quite a leap. Magnus knows exactly what he wants to take with them. The toys he bought for Alec's pleasure still lie untouched in the cabinet. Alec seems to enjoy their sex, but every time Magnus wants to help him get off, Alec declines. As ‘not to ruin the moment’. As if he ever could. But he needs to stay patient, Magnus supposes.

“Yeah,” Alec croaks and takes a sip from his coffee.

“When we're in London, we'll have a few private appointments for clothes,” Magnus shares.

Alec huffs a laugh. “More shoes, right?”

“Amongst other things.”

“I now have more clothes than I've possessed in my entire life, Magnus.”

“You represent a country, my love.”

Alec raises his hands in a placating manner. “I know.”

“You need training clothes, too,” Magnus adds.

“Stuff bought off the peg will suffice.”

“No, they won't. And we need to find sponsors for you.”

That pulls Alec's full attention. “We do?”

Magnus hides the unease swirling through his stomach behind a smile. “Tessa already arranged a few meetings.”

Alec breathes a sigh.

“It's gonna be fun. You'll see,” Magnus says.

“I gotta trust you on that. My understanding of ‘fun’ has changed quite a lot since meeting you,” Alec smirks. Magnus chuckles. Wouldn't he know. And yes, he's a little smug about it.

“Apropos of fun. We should talk about our summer holiday plans,” Magnus says. “Any wishes?”

Alec shrugs. “I dunno.”

“The world is your oyster, Alexander.”

“Maybe that Greek island you talked about. That sounded nice.”

Magnus’ face grows mellow. Alec always manages to pick up on the small details, really listens.

“That's a lovely idea.”

“We just have to time it with my tournaments.”

“But of course. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Gotta make my husband proud.”

“This is for you, Alexander. I am proud of you all of the time.”

Alec looks surprised for a second before he schools his face. Magnus reaches out for his hand. “You do know that, don't you?” he asks.

“I haven't exactly covered myself with glory,” Alec says, pursing his lips. Magnus can't help but sigh. Alec still hasn't found his footing yet.

“I have to disagree. Besides, this is just the beginning of our journey. There's so much more to come. You'll see.”

Alec nods and squeezes his hand. “You're right,” he agrees with a tender smile.

“Sorry. I just need my—” Magnus says as he storms into the bathroom. Alec's wide eyes behind the opened shower door catch him off guard, making him stall in his quest. “Everything alright?” he asks his frozen husband.

“Yeah,” Alec croaks and fishes for his bath towel. The fabric slips from his fingers before he manages to get a grip on it. Magnus can't help but follow the movement with his gaze. Now it's him who freezes, ice cold dread grabbing his heart with relentless might.

“Alexander,” he breathes. Alec closes his eyes in clear defeat, his hands still trying to wrap the ever-slipping towel around his hips.

“How long?” Magnus asks when Alec finally manages to cover himself. He tries his best to keep a hold on his voice but fails, sounding desperate to his own ears.

“What do you mean?” Alec asks, his voice just as fragile.

Magnus clears his throat, taking a moment to collect himself. “How long have you been hiding this from me?” he specifies.

“I… I didn't wanna burden you with it,” Alec presses out.

Magnus nods. Of course. His husband always tries to deal with everything himself. He doesn't want to be a bother. Magnus thought they were past that. Well, he also thought Alec wasn't self-harming anymore. He was sorely mistaken.

“Still. How long?”

“Since…” Alec's throat moves with a swallow that looks painful. He must be so scared. He's still not used to people loving him through everything. And as much as Magnus feels the ground under their feet shifting once again, he knows he can be the rock Alec needs right now. So he steps forward, cupping Alec's cheek with a tender touch.

“It's okay, Alexander. You can tell me the truth. I won't judge. I know that harming yourself has been…” Tears claim Magnus’ voice. It's one thing to move well-founded suspicions in the confines of his mind, another to speak them out loud.

“I won't do it again. I promise,” Alec says, leaning into the touch, his face still desperate.

Magnus shakes his head. “No promises, my love. This is an illness. We can try to contain it, but relapses might still happen, and I don't want you to feel guilty about breaking a promise on top of…”

Alec nods, teary eyes meeting Magnus’. “Our wedding day,” he whispers, his bottom lip quivering. Magnus brushes his thumb over it, guilt and remorse tightening around his heart.

“In your bathroom?” Magnus asks. Alec nods in silence. Magnus swallows the sob that wants to break free from his chest. He can't change the past. He can only be here for Alec right now.

“Had you done it before?”

Alec shrugs, pulling away. Magnus takes his hand instead. A point of physical contact. That always helps them when words are hard. This time, it's not different.

“Now and then,” Alec replies. “During times when I couldn't go on the shooting range. But not often.”

“I understand. I…” Magnus exhales deeply. “I don't want you to hurt yourself. But I understand that sometimes, you need something to… vent. Am I right in that assumption?”

“I can go without. It was just… that day was a lot. One moment I was walking with you in the snow, and the next, I feared you might leave me.”

“Why… why would I leave you?”

“The articles,” Alec says. “They didn't exactly show me in a good light.”

Magnus looks at him, flabbergasted. “There are only very few people in this world who would be capable of changing my opinion about you, Alexander. Some faceless strangers are not amongst them.”

“Still sounds as if I'm on thin ice,” Alec says. It's softly spoken, gauging. A question in disguise. Magnus’ heart warms with pride. Alec is speaking what he feels. That's good. It's what they need.

“You're not. Ragnor, Catarina and Tessa are all firmly in your corner. And the only reason why I'd trust them is because life taught me that I get burnt if I don't. This has got nothing to do with you as a person.”

Alec huffs a laugh. It still sounds nervous but he looks more relaxed now. “I'm sorry that I… I hope it won't scar. Don't want you to see me like that.”

Magnus breathes a sigh and lays a hand over Alec's heart. “‘Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars’,” he recites. Ragnor once gifted him these words. They feel fitting of the moment. Maybe they can ease the shame so clearly haunting his love.

“Words from a wise man,” Alec croaks.

Magnus nods. “Kahlil Gibran.”

“Can't say I've ever read something from him.”

“You would love his poetry. He painted pictures with words.”

Magnus places a gentle kiss on Alec's lips. “Wanna cuddle up? I feel like we haven't done that in ages.” Magnus’ voice doesn't betray the pain he feels at the realisation. Alec hid from him without his knowledge, kept fabric between them to spare him from pain. But they've stripped away another layer standing between them. They'll get Alec the help he needs. Magnus will read up on how to best support him. They will find a way. They're good at it when they're actually talking.

“Yes,” Alec says, his lips twitching into a lopsided smile. “I missed that so damn much.”

“You never have to again. That's a promise I can keep,” Magnus says and turns to the door.

“You came in to get something,” Alec says. Magnus stops in his tracks.

“It's not important,” he says, turning. “Dry up, pretty boy.”

Alec chuckles, the sound warm and laced with mirth. Magnus saunters out of the bathroom, taking a deep breath. He doesn't know if he found the right words. He hopes he did.

Later, when he caresses the scars, Alec sharing truths he never meant to see the light of day, Magnus’ heart cracks and heals in equal measures. Alec trusts him with his soul, his weaknesses, his pain. Maybe not all of it, but that's okay. He knows now that he isn't alone, that he is worthy of love and care. It might only be an idea right now, but the seed will grow, and one day, if they're lucky, all of this will lie behind them.

Chapter Text

Alec tugs on Magnus’ jacket to straighten it. Not that there is anything wrong with it. Elias took care of that. Magnus looks splendid in his uniform. Good enough that Alec can forget for a moment that he's only dressed in a suit. The most exquisite and expensive suit he's ever owned, granted, but still. No, it's not the flawless state of Magnus’ clothing that makes Alec reach out. He needs the touch, nervousness swirling through his stomach in irregular intervals. This is a big day for him, for them. For the first time since their wedding, they are fully in the limelight of the world. He mustn't chance anything. He must be perfect, and no matter how often Magnus has tried to butter him up during the span of their wedded life, Alec knows that he isn't. He was supposed to be an ambassador for his people, but this is materially different. He's not only the voice of his country, passing on the Clave's politics. He is Edom's face, one of three. Missteps could cost his new home prestige, money, influence. He feels like an imposter. But looking at Magnus, seeing the way he conducts himself, how he turns into the heir of the Edom throne before his very eyes—Alec can't help but be enthralled by him all anew.

Gosh, Magnus looks so good in his dress uniform. Alec can't take his eyes off him. Maybe it's envy. But no. He's gotten pretty good at separating the one from the other. This is simply the magic Magnus has on him. Or Alec has a thing for men in uniform. Who knows?

“I'm surprised you don't have more medals,” he says absentmindedly.

Magnus huffs a laugh. “I've refused any not achieved by rank and deed. I didn't want special treatment just because I'm the Prince Royal. I didn't serve that long, so…”

Alec is surprised by the blush claiming Magnus’ face. It's unsettling, so Alec tries to keep the conversation going. “That surely earned you respect from your fellows. What division did you serve in?”

“Medical.”

Alec hums in acknowledgement. It makes sense. Magnus is a healer in so many ways. He's sure healed and mended more than one of his scars.

“That's very commendable.”

Magnus chuckles. “My father wasn't exactly amused. Especially as I was following in my mother's footsteps.”

“How come?”

“She was studying medicine when she met my father.”

“She was a mundane, right?”

Magnus’ eyebrow creeps up in amusement. “A commoner? Yes.”

Alec bites his tongue. Some things, he still has to unlearn.

“They met at an official state visit,” Magnus elaborates. “My father saw her at a restaurant where she worked as a waitress to pay for her studies. She had subbed for a colleague. A fateful ‘yes’ in hindsight.”

“They fell in love?”

Magnus snorts a mirthless laugh. “He charmed her parents. They thought she'd be happier as Princess Consort than as an independent woman.”

Alec squeezes Magnus’ hand. “Sorry. I didn't mean to wake up bad memories.”

“Oh, don't you worry, Alexander. It's nice being able to share my memories of her. But I guess they'll have to wait.”

Alec nods, his heartbeat taking up a notch. He takes a deep breath to dispel his worries. He was made and molded for this. He knows all the briefings by heart. And most of all, he doesn't have to do this alone.

“Showtime,” he says and braces himself. He never liked parades, but this isn't about him. And that—at last—is a very familiar feeling to cling on to. This one and the feelings for the man standing in front of him.

“I love you,” Alec says one last time before they have to become inspiring figureheads first before devoted husbands.

“I love you, too, Alexander,” Magnus replies and places a gentle kiss on his lips, giving Alec a small taste of what is waiting for him on the other side. And that on its own could carry him through the most challenging day.

Alec sits down on the edge of their bed. Magnus smiles sadly at the warm cotton pyjamas his husband chose tonight. He likely got cold during the parade and is still trying to warm up. Or he simply likes them.

“That Spanish royal at the banquet with the sharp features and the ponytail looked familiar, but I still can't place him. Who was that?” Alec asks.

Magnus winces inwardly but he keeps his voice light when he replies, “Oh, that was Lorenzo Rey from the House of Álvarez de Toledo. I introduced him to you at our reception. We went to boarding school together.”

The way Alec's mouth twitches minutely, Magnus is able to guess what's going on in his mind. That damned wedding! He wishes they could have a rerun. One where Alec could be himself and present in the moment. One where Magnus could look at his husband with an overflowing heart and not devastation mixed with dread.

“You seemed to have a vivid conversation with his king,” Magnus tries to deflect.

Alec nods. “We talked about his time participating in Olympia.”

“He did?”

Alec hums. “Sailing in the 90s.”

“And here I thought you and the Monacan Prince and Princess were the only royals doubling as Olympians,” Magnus smirks.

“Far from it,” Alec chuckles. “Sailing and equestrian are royal favourites. Idris, of course, made a virtue out of it. But well.”

“You served your country in many ways, Alexander.” Magnus isn't sure where the feeling to prop Alec up is coming from, but he senses the necessity. Maybe it's because he saw Alec's military side today, the strict discipline on display as they took the salute in freezing weather. His husband was something else—unmoving, upright, exuding confidence and command. It's so unfair that he wasn't allowed to wear a uniform. It's good that he got to talk about his past triumphs with King Felipe. Their marriage has erased so many parts of Alec's past, but not this.

“I'll serve my country as best as I can,” Alec promises as if to prove Magnus’ thoughts.

“I know you will. And yourself. Tessa arranged a fitting during our next stop. They're interested in sponsoring you.”

“So you said. But won't that come off as strange? Me not paying for myself, I mean.”

“It's gonna be a signal to the people, for sure. But after what my father has done, this can only serve us in the long run. We need to be as independent from him as possible.”

“It would show dissent in the royal family.”

“That might well be,” Magnus says and saunters over, rubbing hand cream into his skin. It's been a long day. He just wants to cuddle up and sleep, not talk politics. But Alec's mind never seems to let it rest. Well, Magnus will have to teach him. He's already started, but that change will likely take time.

“Aren't you worried that that might destabilise the monarchy?” Alec asks.

Magnus exhales slowly. “As long as we commit our lives to our duties, the people won't worry. And that's all that matters.”

“That shouldn't be a problem then,” Alec states matter-of-factly. It makes Magnus’ stomach lurch.

Discipline and duty.

Alec deserves so much more. And Magnus will provide when their travels are over. Right now, their schedules are too tight for romantic gestures, much less stolen moments.

He sighs inwardly. Are all royal couples like this during their first year of marriage? Well, most have been together for years when they marry, so there's that. He can't change that they weren't blessed with that. They can only make the most of it. And they will.

Chapter Text

“Did you bring one of the shirts you usually train with?” the man currently taking Alec's measurements asks.

Alec sighs inwardly. This is worse than their duties of the past three weeks. And those three weeks were tough. He's met so many people. Another three weeks of this and he'll probably be open to a silent retreat. But the calm of their private life has to wait.

They have been measuring him for long minutes now. He knows the man is just doing his job, but today is a bad day. He doesn't even know why. He got up on the wrong foot, he supposes. His skin feels too tight somehow, his hips looking so damn wide in the floorlength mirror. He knows it's all in his head. He simply doesn't like people touching him so much. Out of close combat, that is. Magnus being the only exception. Magnus, who pretends to read on his phone but who glances at him with a thoughtful expression when he thinks Alec isn't looking. He likely knows that something is amiss with him. Why does he have to feel like this today of all days, with all focus on his physical form? Well, it is what it is. Alec just wants this to be over.

“I grew out of my professional gear,” Alec mumbles in response. He doesn't care what he wears during training. Shadowhunters can make everything work. Discomfort has been part of his life since childhood. No one will catch him complaining.

“That's alright,” the man says with an understanding smile playing on his lips. “Do you prefer it straight, half-tight, athletic or contoured?”

“Definitely straight.” Alec can't suppress the tug on the corners of his lips when he hears Magnus’ responding quiet snort. “Mr Fashion over there is of a different opinion, huh?” Alec teases. He needs to distract himself, and bantering with his husband is a sure way to do that.

“Sorry, my love. You know what's best,” Magnus states.

Alec frowns. “I actually don't.” The man taking his measures raises an eyebrow. “Before my transition, I hated close fits. Maybe that's different now,” Alec explains. He knows that hollow feeling in his stomach will pass. Many cis men have visible hips, too, and most days, his dysphoria doesn't rear its ugly head as it does today. He's got enough experience with it to know it'll be better soon. Not that that knowledge makes it suck any less. It's simply cold comfort. But he focuses on the bright side. With his new packer and harness, he feels way better in his briefs. Maybe Magnus is right and he won't stay the trans prince forever. Maybe he'll just be an athlete amongst others, making his new home proud. That would be nice.

The man clears his throat and hurries out of the room without another word. Alec and Magnus share a look, their thoughts hanging unspoken in the space between them. Alec turns away from the mirror, busying himself with the samples neatly stacked and sorted on a long table. A lot has changed in the few years he's been away from professional sport. Or Idris’ outfitters have been behind in the development of practice clothes. Either way, the fabrics feel great under his fingertips, the touch grounding. Maybe a tighter fit will suit him just fine.

It takes a while until two members of staff enter the room. The man stays close to the entrance, hovering. The woman – Anna, Alec thinks was her name – walks closer, however.

“Have you found something that you're interested in, Your Royal Highness?” she asks, the smile on her face drawn with tension.

Alec wets his lips. “I'm not picky as long as it gives me room to move and is long enough not to show my stomach.”

“But, of course. Um. We…,” she trails off. “We hope you'll find a fit that will cater to your… special needs.”

“You are the outfitter of three of the top ten archers in the world. You're well familiar with whatever he might need,” Magnus supplies. Anna wets her lips. Her nervousness rubs Alec the wrong way.

“She doesn't mean those needs, Magnus,” he mutters, feeling strangely defeated.

“You must understand, Sir… we usually don't cater to trans athletes. This is all new to us. I'm sorry.”

“Have you worked with other openly queer athletes before?” Alec asks.

“We haven't had the chance to, as of yet. But we had a rainbow range in our commercial line. I was part of the developing team,” she says.

“Had?” Alec asks.

The employee's smile falters a little. “Sadly, we had to discontinue it. It wasn't economically feasible.”

“It shouldn't have to be profitable to take a stance for human rights and give minorities and their allies a modicum of support and visibility,” Alec states.

“I agree,” Anna says. “But times are changing and…” she trails off, clearly uncomfortable.

“I understand. We're done here,” Alec says and grabs his dress shirt.

“Your Royal Highness, we'd love to sponsor you. The team is excited to work with royalty. We've come up with some great ideas congenial to your degree and standing as a seasoned athlete. Spoken as a gay man myself, I can assure you that our company is safe for you,” the as of yet silent man intervenes from his spot at the door.

Alec wets his lips. “I feel honoured that you put so much thought into a campaign already,” he manages in a non-hostile tone. “But I am more than a royal. I am a proud queer man, and especially in times like this, corporations need to show backbone and not just lip service. I cannot wear the name of a company that doesn't loudly and proudly stand by the whole of me and the queer community. Not in good conscience.”

Anna's chagrined look marks the end. Her mumbled apologies barely make it to Alec's ears. Maybe he's being rude, but he has no more fucks to give today. He gets dressed, Magnus helping him into his coat, his fingers gliding between Alec's immediately after.

Alec quirks a sad smile at him and goes through the motions of stiff farewells and unneeded lukewarm promises and offers.

“I'm so proud of you,” Magnus says as the car door shuts behind them.

“I just couldn't,” Alec sighs.

“I understand. You've come so far.”

Alec furrows his eyebrows in question.

“‘I'm a proud queer man’,” Magnus smirks. Alec huffs a laugh. Right.

“Well… I can't sell my soul or our community for a sponsorship. But I don't need much. I can pay for it myself. I can, right?”

“But, of course.” Magnus’ smile wraps warmly around Alec's heart. He hates spending money on himself, but this isn't about him. Not anymore. They've met so many queer people and LGBTQIA+ organisations during their state visits. It was a crash course of sorts. Alec gets now why Magnus reads so much, why knowing queer history is so important to understand the fights of today. This isn't just about him and his own messy relationship with his queerness. He could be a voice, an ambassador for three people at once—Edom, Idris, queer folks. He can't stay quiet anymore. Not when he elicits hope in so many by just being visibly himself.

“Maybe—” he starts but trails off.

“What?” Magnus probes gently.

“I dunno… Maybe I should work with an inclusive brand, a small one, maybe a queer led one. If there's even such a thing for sports clothing.”

“If not, there's always the option to start one ourselves,” Magnus muses.

Alec chuckles. “You're way richer than I can imagine, aren't you?”

Magnus grins. “We are.”

Alec shakes his head and looks out of the window, watching the world fly by. Some of this is still unfathomable. But he'll get used to it, eventually.

He squeezes Magnus’ hand in thanks that goes beyond what words can hold. Freedom. That's what this feels like. Not without duties, but on their terms. That truth is finally settling in him.

“You okay?” Magnus asks.

Alec nods, smiling at him through the tears standing in his eyes. “It felt good to say no.”

“Good.”

So simple, so powerful. Good indeed.

Chapter Text

“This is still weird,” Alec says, his grip on Magnus’ hand just on the right side of painful.

“You're a natural, my love. The crowds love you,” Magnus tries to soothe him.

“You are a natural,” Alec argues. “I still can't stop myself from scanning for danger,” he says, gazing out of the car window as if to prove his point.

“I hadn't noticed,” Magnus says. Alec chuckles, his hand leading Magnus’ to his lips. Magnus smiles to himself as they press against his skin. They know how to ground each other. And he knows that Alec isn't always in bodyguard mode, especially since their team of protectors has grown significantly. Magnus knows that Alec will smile and joke with the people waiting for them behind the fence, will hold babies and shake hands. He's been so good over the past weeks. It's their last stay, their return home in fingers’ reach. A last public appearance before their well-deserved Easter break. They've made Edom proud, the monarchy's popularity on a decade high. And Alec is such a big part of that success. Magnus wishes he'd slowly relax, but that will still take a bit more time, so it seems.

Alec's phone vibrates in his suit pants. He fishes for it, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as he reads the message. He nods as if in acknowledgement.

“What is it?” Magnus asks.

“Just my tournament schedule.”

“Already? I thought you'd just be training.”

“I gotta collect points if I wanna make it to the next Olympics.”

Magnus sighs inwardly. But he gets it. Alec wants to be on the track to success as soon as possible. As he deserves to be.

Magnus squeezes his husband's hand.

“Can't wait to cheer you on.”

Magnus doesn't know what's happening. All he knows is that Alec shoved him into Helen's arms. Helen, who is pushing him into the limousine after dragging him to it with superhuman strength. He tries to straighten in the car seat, his view of the tumultuous crowd disrupted by Kieran, one of his new security guards. The car leaves the scene, rushing past the brawl still going on on the street that was the place of nice engagements just a few minutes ago.

“Alec,” Magnus screams at the sight of his husband in the midst of it, red tinting Alec's formerly crisp white shirt. How the hell hasn't he been dragged away to safety, too?

“Helen,” he calls, losing sight of his husband. “We need to get him.”

“The other team will protect him,” she says.

“Didn't look like it.” The way Helen worries her lip makes the rising panic in Magnus’ chest skyrocket.

“He's a well trained Shadowhunter. He's gonna be fine,” she says.

“He's a royal. He can't fight for his life! Turn around!”

“We can't.”

“Why not?”

“King's order. Each of you has a designated security detail.” She presses her finger to her in-ear. “Shit,” she murmurs, exchanging a look with Kieran.

“What?!” Magnus demands to know.

“The Prince Consort is down,” Kieran replies.

“What does that mean?”

“He pinned down one of the attackers, but he has a penetration wound,” Helen replies.

“He was stabbed,” Magnus states, his ribcage too tight to take a proper breath. He loosens his cravat to get some much needed air.

“How did he know they would come for us?” he presses out, the memory of red threatening to swallow him whole.

“He saw the rune,” Helen says.

“Why didn't anybody else?” Magnus thunders.

“It was a huge crowd,” Kieran says.

“I thought you were professionals.”

“We're no fucking Shadowhunters,” Kieran grinds out.

Magnus ignores that. He can fire him later. “What's his current state?”

Helen asks. “They're rushing him to the hospital. He's conscious. They are getting prepared for everything.”

“I want the best doctors. Get Ragnor and Luke flown in. I won't chance—” Magnus trails off. Fuck! He can't lose him. He can't!

Helen nods and communicates with her team leader. Pressed between Kieran and her, Magnus tries to breathe. He can't faint now. He needs to be strong. Alec will need him. Because he's going to make it. He will. He simply must.

Magnus checks the time once more. He wishes Catarina were here. He feels so damn alone in this waiting room. Yes, he sent everyone away, including Tessa and his own assistant. He feared his anger and anxiety would burst out of him, otherwise. He just can't get the image of Alec out of his mind. It's not even a real one. It's a crude mixture of his husband with the memory of a child from so many years ago. Why did it have to be him who found his dead mother, gone by her own hand? But his treacherous mind returns to it, again and again, except now with Alec's lifeless face and empty eyes staring back at him.

He tries to cling onto the last time he saw Alec, his sure, strong body moving in a fight which he clearly dominated. But what is that worth when he's been lying on the operating table for long enough to get the royal medical team transferred?

Magnus runs his fingers through his hair like he's done a thousand times since they arrived at the hospital. He must look terrible. Not that he would care.

Someone clears his throat at the door. Magnus looks up into his friend's weary face, the poor man surely tired after being called away from his bedroom. Magnus wouldn't be able to express his gratitude if he tried.

Ragnor sits down on the sofa next to him. “The good news is, he's gonna make it,” he says.

“And the bad?”

Ragnor huffs a laugh. “He's already a pain in the ass.”

“He's awake?” Magnus asks, jumping off the sofa.

“He was talking about a ‘false flag attack’ as soon as he woke up. They gave him a tranquilliser so that he'd stay in bed. He's gonna sleep for a bit longer. But you can join him now. Maybe you can calm him down a little when he comes to.”

Magnus doesn't have to be asked twice to get to his husband. He nods at the nurse working on Alec. He looks pale but relaxed, no signs of pain distorting his features.

“Hit me with it,” Magnus half-orders. Luke doesn't seem to be fazed about his strained tone when he looks up from Alec's file.

“Alec was admitted with a stab wound,” he explains the obvious. “Emergency surgery lasted several hours due to the depth of the injury and the need to rule out damage to major structures. No vital organs or major vessels were compromised. The wound was cleaned, bleeding controlled, and the tissue closed. Directly after surgery, he became agitated and attempted to get up. For safety and to protect the surgical site, sedation was administered. Since then, he has remained stable, with good circulation, and no signs of complications. The overall prognosis is positive, and careful monitoring will continue during the initial recovery phase.”

Magnus nods in acknowledgement, his heart still nearly beating out of his chest.

“He's in good hands, Magnus.”

“I know. You and Ragnor will see to it.”

“We sure will.”

Magnus sinks into the chair standing next to Alec's bed. “Is agitation normal after surgery?” he asks. Alec is always so composed. Magnus can't even imagine him so out of it that he must be sedated.

“People react very differently to trauma and anaesthesia. I haven't seen anyone up that quickly before. I hope you'll have a calming effect on him when he wakes up again.”

Magnus quirks a half smile. Ragnor said the same, didn't he? He hopes he will be Alec's anchor. He laces his fingers between Alec's. The warmth seeping through his skin finally grounds him. Alec is just sleeping, recovering from what could have easily led to losing him. But Magnus doesn't allow his thoughts to go there. Alec will be fine. And one of the attackers was arrested. Because of Alec's bravery. His stupid, glorious bravery. Magnus will give him a piece of his mind, eventually. When he's better. But for now, Magnus takes comfort in the calm rise and fall of Alec's chest.

Chapter Text

Alec's eyelids fight the gravity tearing on them. Shit! There was something he had to do. Something to say. It was important. But what was it?

He groans. His throat as dry as parchment paper, razor cuts burning with every miniscule movement.

“Alexander?” Magnus’ voice cuts through the pain.

“Ma—” Alec manages. He's alive! They didn't get him. Of course not. Helen knows her job. Different to the poor excuses of safety personnel assigned to him. They nearly let the attacker escape, for heaven's sake!

“False… flag,” Alec presses out. Magnus shushes him gently, his fingers carding soothingly through his hair.

“Everything's alright,” he coos. “You got him. He can't harm any of us anymore. He's going to get his just punishment. The Clave is already interrogating Circle members.”

Alec shakes his head. How can they be that stupid! It's too obvious to not be a false clue. Way too obvious.

“They won't—” Dammit! Speaking is too painful. So are Magnus’ sorrowful eyes. “Water,” Alec presses out. God, he needs to get on his feet and talk to the police. How much time have they already wasted, running after the wrong horse?

Magnus lifts a cup of water to his lips. Alec gulps it down. He still feels parched, but that's only superficial. The infusion dripping into his arm surely is taking care of it.

“It's a false flag, Mags. He's not a Shadowhunter.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Told you that no one would dare carry the Circle rune that high up, visible. It makes you a pariah.”

“Fanatics don't care about being found out, my love. He clearly had it on display.”

Alec groans in frustration. “They had it on display, and that's my whole point. Their fighting style didn't match ours either.”

“Alexander, I know you are knowledgeable, but you should rest now. Leave the investigation to the police.”

“They are barking up the wrong tree if they are treating this as a terror attack.”

“What else would it be? They tried to kill me. And you saved me. End of story.”

Alec frowns at that. It all happened so fast. He couldn't think, simply reacted. It's all a bit muddled in his mind. Are emotions clouding his judgement? Maryse would have a field day with him if she knew.

Well, she didn't rush to his hospital bed, so there's no reason to care about her opinion. It's stupid that he wishes she were here. She always did check on him when he got injured in action.

A strange wave of sadness washes over him. As if his personal life were important now in any way. If this was a real terror attack, then Valentine must be the puppet master. What did the briefing say? Alec’s brain is still mush. He needs to get his body working.

“When can I get up?” he addresses Luke.

“In a few hours. You should rest now.”

Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. He's so useless.

“Tell the police I'm ready for questions,” he all but orders.

“Alexander,” Magnus protests.

“Early interrogations give the best results. You wanna get the instigators, don't you?”

Magnus nods but his eyes look so sad. The stab they give Alec's stomach is worse than the surgical wound. He's probably drugged up to high heaven but still. Magnus must have been worried sick. He hasn't let go of his hand since Alec woke up. God, he's been such an ass!

Alec squeezes his husband's hand. “Just let them know that I'm awake?”

Magnus nods and pulls his phone from the pocket of his dress pants. He's still wearing the same clothes, the sleeve of his jacket torn partly off his shoulder. Alec closes his eyes, a weird mix of shame and exhaustion claiming his body. Magnus wants him to rest. He's probably right. He'll take just a few minutes until the anaesthetic has tapered off. He must be fit when the police come. He'll put them on the right path.

“I am the Prince Royal, and they are my in-laws,” Magnus murmurs. He sounds strained. Alec has to orient himself. Why was he sleeping?

Oh, right.

“What's going on?” Alec mumbles.

“Nothing to worry about, darling. Isabelle and Jace have arrived. They need to go through a security check, but they'll be here soon.”

Alec struggles with the tears pricking his eyes. They came. Not that they should have. It's just a stupid stab wound. He didn't protect his side well enough. Rookie mistake. Hodge taught him better. Did he play a part in the attack? He knows every single one of Alec's weaknesses.

“Sir, we can't—” Helen protests.

“You will. This is an order. I don't care what my father says. I won't deprive my husband of comfort.”

Helen purses her lips but nods. “Yes, sir,” she says and leaves.

“What was that about?” Alec asks, trying to sit up. Magnus pushes him gently but firmly back onto the pillow but uses the remote to move the top of the bed upwards.

“Is it good like this?” he asks. Alec feels babied but he nods nonetheless. He has to cut Magnus some slack. Alec knows that waiting for a loved one to be treated is the worst. So he allows Magnus to fuss over him. Just a little.

“My father ordered that no Shadowhunters come near you. He is pretending that this is for security reasons. Playing the caring father is so out of his range, but the media is eating it up. Well, he got his footage, but he won't get you. So he's trying to isolate us.”

“All the way from Edom?”

“He's in the hospital, pretending to have rushed here in concern about you,” Magnus replies, bitterness dripping from every syllable.

“He came?” Alec croaks.

Magnus wets his lips. “He came with Luke and Ragnor.”

“Wha—?”

“I suppose he wanted to make sure…” Magnus trails off but Alec thinks he knows where his mind went.

“I'm here. It wasn't even that bad.”

Magnus works his jaw. “I could have lost you. Forever. You were reckless,” he says quietly.

“I wasn't. I was trained for this from the day I could walk.”

“No! Your bodyguards…”

“...were overwhelmed by the situation.”

“They are from my father's personal guard,” Magnus protests. “They are the best trained in all of Edom.”

Alec bites back a snarky remark. He doesn't want to fight. And even Asmodeus wouldn't sink that low. Killing his own son? No. That's too far-fetched, even for a demon like him. In his own way, he loves Magnus. And he won't put one of his illegitimate kids on the throne. He'd rather manipulate Magnus into dancing to his tune. Which would mean…

No, that can't be. The attacker was clearly going for Magnus as his target. No one could have foreseen that Alec would step in. Or is he so predictable?

A knock on the door cuts this train of thought short. It's ridiculous anyway. Just a few weeks ago, Asmodeus demanded a grandchild. He wouldn't postpone that for pettiness, would he? Order someone to kill him on foreign soil?

But Magnus ran to him torn by grief when his mother died. Maybe… Alec pushes away that thought. He's not one for conspiracy theories. Maybe the attackers turn out to be Circle members. Maybe it's a false flag by an Edom terror cell. It doesn't matter. All that matters is for Magnus to relax and rest, and he won't if Alec starts leaking the fruits of his still muddled mind.

“The Marquis and Marquise of Alicante,” Kieran announces as if this was a ballroom and not a hospital room with Alec hooked on a million monitors.

“Ready for your siblings?” Magnus asks, a small smile tugging on his lips for the first time since Alec woke up. He nods. Maybe with them here, Magnus will take care of himself and get some much needed sleep.

“They'll tease me endlessly. That's my third stab wound,” Alec jokes. It doesn't land. Magnus just stares at him, flabbergasted. Shit! “It's gonna be alright, my love,” Alec tries to soothe him. “I'll be back on my feet in no time, you'll see.”

Magnus doesn't look convinced. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“Babe,” Alec says, “that's what blood transfusions are for.”

Magnus groans. “This is all a joke to you, isn't it? Nearly dying on me.”

“I didn't—” Alec tries to protest.

Magnus’ face closes off. In a heartbeat, he feels a hundred miles away. “I'll leave you to your siblings then. They seem to have practice with this.”

“Magnus, please. I didn't mean to play it down. This has been a lot.” Alec reaches out, wincing when the incision burns in his side. But he pushes through the pain, getting hold of Magnus’ hand. “I'm sorry I scared you.”

Magnus’ cold fingers match his touch briefly. His eyes don't look as if he believes him.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Alec says. “You'll have me on your hands for a long, long time.”

“Promise?” Magnus croaks, shedding his last layers of pretence. It breaks Alec's heart seeing him like this. And it hits him like thunder. He's not disposable anymore. Someone would mourn him from the bottom of his soul. It might even break the person he loves more than his own life. What a burden. What a gift. One that comes with responsibility.

“I'll do everything I can to always come back to you,” he says. That elicits a tired smile.

“You better,” Magnus says, brushing away a stray tear from his cheek. He squeezes Alec's hand and leans in for a kiss.

“I'm going back to the hotel. I'll be back soon,” Magnus says after pulling back.

“You should get some sleep,” Alec says. “I'm in good hands.”

Magnus nods. He straightens his torn jacket and smiles at his siblings-in-law. He whispers something to them in passing that Alec doesn't quite catch. Jace nods as he scans him with careful eyes. Alec hates to worry others, but having them here fills his heart with warmth. He closes his eyes for a moment, his sister's fingers gently brushing the hair out of his face.

“He's gonna be fine,” she says. Alec lets a chuckle escape. She knows him too well.

“I know. He's strong.”

“He is a good match for you, so of course he is.”

Alec nods, tiredness pulling him down once more. Magnus is okay. They're okay. He can rest now.