#//GRIPS LUKE BY THE SHOULDERS. YOU ARE ALWAYS LOOKING FOR SOMETHING TO BE A MARTYR OF. THANK GOD THIS TIME IT'S LOVE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bussanbaby · 7 years

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The last time Maryse Lightwood had seen her oldest son in the Institute chapel, he was about to martyr himself into a marriage for their family’s political gain, to find again honor that she and her ex-husband tarnished with decisions made out of delusional hate. Looking back on it now, the pride she felt while seeing him in a golden suit and with barely concealed panic buzzing underneath the neat edges of his sleeves makes her sick. It had been wrong, so very wrong. It had been something a good mother should have never done.

But Maryse has learned a lot since then - seeing her children blaze new trails in the sedentary Clave traditions and rules has taught her how to be better, how to apologize and try to redress past grievances. She is trying to be a better version of herself, both for her allies as well as her own family, speaking apologies and confessions that should have been made long ago.

And here she is again, in the same Institute chapel, at another wedding.

This time, the high-ceiling room feels alive under the carpets of colorful flowers, chandeliers spreading scattered light against the stained glass windows, white and gold luxurious fabric draped over various spots around the space; the people gathered are smiling, soft chatter filling the air while everyone waits for the music to pick up and the ceremony to start. From where Maryse’s standing by the door, she can spot a ginger head of curls most surely belonging to one Clary Fray with Maia and Simon sat in the same row near the front; Jace and Isabelle are tucked into the corner of the room near the altar, their heads bowed towards each other and conspiratory laughter bubbling up between them. The rest of the seats are taken by all kinds of folk – Shadowhunters, werewolves, seelies, vampires and quite a bit of warlocks, one of the most recognizable few being Catarina Loss sat right at the edge near the nave with Dorothea Rollins by her side and their hands intertwined.

There’s still a bit of time before the actual ceremony so Maryse makes her way over to the dressing rooms located nearby, her well-fitted gown swishing along to the rhythm of her high heels clicking against the marble tiles. She knocks softly on one of the large wooden doors and waits.

“Come in!” Calls Alec from inside and she pushes open the door to find him in front of a full-length mirror, fingers struggling with tying his bow. The suit he’s wearing is charcoal-black and shimmery, with gold elements and a white shirt underneath; it makes Alec look even more handsome than usual, all of his strong features more pronounced against the dark shades. When he notices her in the mirror, his hands still and his face brightens, an open smile pulling at his mouth. “Mom.”

Alec looks both so youthful and so mature at once, his eyes alight with excitement and love. Maryse crosses the room, hands coming up to rest against his chest only to push Alec’s hands away gently and tie the bow for him. They stay quiet through this, only exchanging glances and tiny smiles, but she can feel his heart hammering beneath his ribcage, betraying the way he looks calm on the outside; always the collected one. After she’s happy with the way it looks, she takes Alec by the shoulders, slowly turning him again to face the mirror.

It’s a view that causes a wave of nostalgia to wash over Maryse – not so long ago, she held him in her arms swaddled in blankets, plump-cheeked and unaware of the world. It wasn’t that long ago when she had him in her lap and read him stories about heroes and warriors, when she taught him how to fight demons and defend the innocent. What she sees in the reflection is a man about to marry the love of his life, a skilled leader, a great brother and friend, her wonderful son.

“Look at you, Alec.” She says quietly, voice breaking like sea coming over shore. “I am so proud of you.” She catches his eyes, curious and listening, holds his gaze even though tears are blurring her own vision. “I know I haven’t told you this enough. I used to be so harsh on you, always demanding impossible perfection. I let you think you weren’t good enough, when you were. You always were more than enough, righteous and brave and wise.”

Alec looks down, away from the reflection, before turning to her, something unreadable settled over his features, vulnerable and open. Her palms find his – big and warm, calloused from hard work, an engagement ring already settled on his fourth finger; she grips them reassuringly, thumbs rubbing circles over prominently scarred knuckles, proof of how many times life has drawn his blood but has not taken his life. Maryse remembers each and every time he was hurt, taking it in stride with his jaw clenched tight, a perfect soldier she raised him as.

“I watched you fight against the world for justice and love, for something worth more than fame and empty respect. I watched you fight for your happiness. You have inspired so many people you have never even met, you have given others hope to live their lives proudly and without shame.” A single tear rolls down Alec’s cheek and Maryse reaches up to wipe it away, her hand lingering there and Alec pressing into the touch, eyes dipping closed with a shaky sigh, before focusing on her again. “I knew you would change the world.”

“Mom…” Alec whispers, voice hoarse with emotion. He pulls Maryse into a hug and she wraps her arms tightly around his chest, fingers holding onto the back of the suit jacket. “Thank you.”

She shakes her head, feels Alec rest his cheek against her hair. “Don’t thank me, you should have heard this long ago.”

They pull away and give a watery laugh, both wiping at their eyes at the same time. Maryse reaches out to straighten out the lapels, the need to touch him a constant current in her blood, to make sure this is real and not a dream her mind has made up. “Magnus is lucky to have you.”

At that, Alec laughs again, eyes crinkling in happiness.

“And I am lucky to have him.”

“You are. I don’t know how he puts up with you.” Maryse quips and the atmosphere lightens, the moment of honesty held tightly between them, surrounded by simple joy.

“So you like him now?” Alec plays along with one eyebrow quirked up, knowing full well about the conversations between her and Magnus, trying to bridge old gaps and learn about the warlock, a future member of her family, old enemy turned son-in-law.

Maryse rolls her eyes. “I might say he’s grown on me.”

They laugh together again, but it peters out into companionable silence where they watch each other – a mother and son, two generations of Shadowhunters with their worlds and views way different until they are not, two souls finding a common language.

Later, after Maryse has taken her seat next to Luke, she watches Alec and Magnus walk down the aisle, hands joined between them; in the past, she believed true love was nothing but a farce, but looking at them, both radiant, staring at each other with such devotion and veneration, she knows it exists and she is witnessing it now – pure, honest, loyal love meant to last for eternity.

#malec #shadowhunters #posibanesquad #magnusbaene #maryse lightwood #alec lightwood #my fics #i blame meral for this

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