#I AM SO GLAD ALEC DID WHAT HE DID TO RESTORE IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaz-xedarix · 3 years

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The Return of the Star

Thank you so much for your patience and your nice words. I really appreciated them too much.

So finally I have finished part II, and things are starting to get really interesting.

As I promised there’s a new coloring among the text, I really hope you like it, and I put another one, but a bit older, since I couldn’t resist to post it in this part XD

Thanks so much to @buffaloborgine and @trinity-blood-translations for helping me correct this text, your effort is valuable to me. Send you lots of love my friends.

Let’s get started.

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The Istvan Opera House was located on Andrássy Street, the main avenue of the city. It was an old style building that had survived Armageddon. After the liberation battle, it was the first place restored by the archbishop, to serve as a public building for the citizens.

The building was built in a magnificent and delicate Neo-Renaissance style. It was an imposing work that could be compared to the Scala in Milan, the Opernhaus in Vienna or the Státní in Prague. The facade had a secluded air, but once inside the decorations in gold and purple colors overwhelmed the visitor with their luxury.

The “guest of honor” entrance that Esther passed through was no exception. In the boxes facing the wide stage, the rugs were so thick that they reached to the ankles, as if she were in a lavish palace. The walls were lined with works of art and all the furniture had been expressly imported from Rome or Florence.

However, everything paled when compared to the beauty of the woman who was waiting for her sitting on the sofa.

“Welcome, Sister Esther. You may be exhausted after the trip...”

The Cardinal Caterina Sforza, Duchess of Milan, Secretary of State of the Vatican and head of its foreign policy, gave a friendly welcome to the nun. Telling her to sit on the couch that was in front, where the two priests was already sitting, she laid her cup of tea on the table.

“I've was told you've had a difficult time with the media at the station. I am glad that you are well.” “Nothing happened… More than anything, it was a surprise that…”

Looking into the gray eyes that smiled at her behind the monocle, the nun awkwardly shook her head like a puppet. For Esther, the Cardinal was a person almost as sacred as the Virgin. Every time she presented herself to her, she couldn't help but get nervous and tense. She brushed off the sweat she didn't have and continued in an uneasy voice:

“Your Eminence, the journalists called me Saint… what kind of joke is this? And why am I the protagonist of the play that is going to be performed here tonight?” “We'll talk about all that later...” Adjusting her monocle, the beautiful woman looked up at the stage, the curtain still closed, and sighed. “His Holiness will be here shortly. He is accompanied by the Minister of Information, who is the one who has organized all this. I myself know only part of the story. It will be better if he tell us all about it in person… What I want to hear now is what news you bring me from the Empire.”

The cardinal spoke with the usual serenity. However, her voice had hardened slightly as she turned her gaze back to the nun and priest, as she crossed her legs under her habit.

“Were you able to contact the empress?” “Yes, we have to inform you about it.” Esther steadied herself and her voice changed as she began to recite the report that she had been rehearsing mentally in the way: “We were fortunate enough to have direct contact with the Empress in...” “Well, the truth is that we couldn't speak to her directly…”

Everything Esther had prepared came to nothing when the other voice interrupted her, preventing her from speaking.

“Eh!?” She didn't even have time to stop him. As he turned to the voice, she saw that Abel was still speaking with an irrepressible verbiage, which did not leave her a space to intervene.

“We did our best to deliver Her Eminence's message in person, but, of course, meeting the Empress in person was beyond our means. Even so, you need not worry, because we asked a local noblewoman, the Marquise of Kiev, Astharoshe Asran, whom I already knew before, to serve as an intermediary. The message will have reached its destination; you can be sure of it.” “Ah? Bu... Father... Wait a minute...” But what was he saying!? Esther nervously adjusted her habit as if to signal him, but Abel did not stop chattering for an instant, gesturing exaggeratedly with his hands. “Yes, we suffered the unspeakable to achieve it. Abroad, right? One does not know how things are done... To fulfill our mission we spend our days without stopping running up and down... tears come to my eyes just remembering it now that I tell you, and without doubt, you will cry too... Imagine, I lost three kilograms!”

Where did all this nonsense come from? Esther managed to come to herself and resist the curiosity to see how far the priest would be able to go.

“Wait... wait, father! Stop speaking nonsense!” She did not know what this foolishness was about, but if it continued like this, Caterina would end up thinking that they had not seen the Empress. Covering Abel's mouth with her hand, Esther yelled in the direction of the Cardinal:

“Ignore him, Your Eminence! We do…”

«We did speak directly to the Empress!» Just when Esther, red with exertion, was about to shout that phrase...

“Cardinal Sforza, I beg your pardon...” An elegant male voice echoed out as the door opened. Looking up, the Cardinal met a man who was greeting her respectfully and who was leading a group of three people. He was middle-aged and wore the purple sash on his habit that indicated his status as archbishop.

“Forgive us for interrupting your conversation, Your Eminence. His Holiness and Cardinal Borgia have arrived.” “Hello Beautiful!” The second voice would seem to have been made up of a frivolous shake spiced with kitsch. It was hard to imagine anyone less suited to wear the Cardinal habit than the young man with long dyed hair and a nasal voice who had just entered. This was Antonio Borgia, the Minister of Information. “How long, right?! Makes sooo much that I did not see how fantastic you are that seems that my aesthetic sense have atrophied, you know? How are we doing?” “Good afternoon, Cardinal Borgia. I see you are very happy. If I'm not mistaken, we met the day before yesterday in Rome, right?”

Responding sharply to the young man, Caterina turned her gaze to the third figure in the group. Seeing the face of the teenager coming up behind the two men, her cold gaze softened.

“Ah, Alec…! How was the flight? Are you dizzy again?” “Y..., y... yes, sister...” Dressed with beautiful white clothes, the Pope Alessandro XVIII spoke with a low voice. In addition to being extremely shy around people, to the point of bordering on autism, get out of Rome or even out of the Papal Palace supposed one horrible adventure for him. Anyways, the face of his sister seemed to calm him a bit, because he went on, stammering:

“I..., I got dizzy a b..., a little... b... but now I'm fi... I'm fine...” “Really? But you don't have very good color. I'll make someone to prepare some medicine for you... Wait, I'll take the opportunity to make the introductions, since we're all here. This is Sister Esther from the Secretary of State. She is the Saint of Istvan”

Exhorted by Caterina, the nun saluted respectfully. “Nice to meet you. It is an honor to be in your presence, Holiness.”All Vatican employees knew of the reserved character of the pope. In order not to startle him, Esther spoke in a calm voice as she placed a light kiss on his hand.“I am not worthy of you granting me the grace to kneel before you... “ “Ah...! N..., no...” At the touch of the young woman's lips, the pope went from pale to flushed. His breathing quickened, as if he were going to have a heart attack, and he withdrew his hand in embarrassment. ”And…, and…, I… And…, and…, I…, I…”

“Holiness, you must be tired...” said the first man who had entered, placing his hand on the shoulder of the babbling teenager. Maybe half a century of his life had already passed, but his face had manly features that surely wreaked havoc on the opposite sex when he was young. With an attentive expression, he made the young Pope sit on the sofa.

“The show will take a while to start. Get some rest here. If you allow me, I will handle the speech.” “Thank you, Archbishop D'Annunzio...”

Before Esther's eyes, the Pope was panting hard, as if he were going to have a panic attack or something. The one who wiped the sweat from his forehead to reassure him was Caterina.

“Forgive me for putting you through something like this, but this ceremony took so much effort that...” “Oh, does not matter! It is an honor to be able to do our bit to the work of her eminence and the Vatican.”

Emanuele D'Annunzio, Archbishop of Istvan, smiled kindly as he took Caterina’s hand. After kissing her like a gentleman kisses a lady, he turned his serene green eyes to her beautiful face. “I wrote the script for tonight's play myself. I am afraid that it will not be up to the refined taste of Her Eminence, but it will be my honor that you listen to it... I do not know how the representation will turn out, but...” “It'll be great, you know? Sure: super, super good.”

The one who responded in this way to the humble words of the archbishop was not Caterina, but the other cardinal present. Antonio, adjusting his bangs, continued with a slightly annoyed voice. “Because, hey, haven't we helped you with production from the Ministry? I mean, the stage, and the direction, and the actors... Aaaaall of it it’s super mega first class. So if it goes wrong, it will be because of the script, you know?” “We will be forever grateful for your support, Cardinal Borgia. It is an honor that you have dedicated your valuable time to our representation...”

D'Annunzio's words were kind, but there was a hint of provocation in his tone. His green gaze was fixed on the young man, like an adult lion facing the cub that wants to take his place.

“Today's ceremony is very important to us, because our recovery will serve to show it to the world. Its success will also serve to show the power of the Vatican… We hope to continue having the support of the Ministry of Information from now on.” “...”

Although the tone was defiant, it could not be said that there was anything really wrong from the archbishop's words. Antonio was silent, something strange in him, as if not knowing what to answer, clearly feeling the difference in maturity that existed between him and his interlocutor.

In his fifties, Archbishop D'Annunzio was an experienced man who had played a crucial role in the Vatican since the time of the previous Pope Gregorio XXX. As the right hand of Alfonso d'Este, who was then head of the College of Cardinals, he had held important positions as Director of the Holy Inquisition and Chief Secretary of the Vatican. In his spare time he had written dozens of novels and more than two hundred plays, and was considered one of the literary geniuses of his time. However, his brilliance had provoked the envy of Alfonso, who ended up moving him away from the center. His fame was surpassed only by Cardinals Medici and Sforza, the Pope's stepsiblings. No one but a skilled politician would have gotten Istvan city reborn from its ruins just a year after the catastrophe of The Star of Sorrow.

“Ah, but I have not yet greeted the main guest...”

After silencing the young man, the archbishop turned quickly to Esther, who was silently observing the dialectical combat between the two high religious positions.

“This is the first time we met, but I know you very well, Sister Esther. I beg your pardon for having you come from so far away.” “Ple…pleased to meet you, Your Excellency...” Esther rose, embarrassed, from the sofa at the friendly smile of the priest and lowered her head, blushing at his manly features.“I am much honored that you invited me. It is an honor to meet you personally.” “Not at all, the honor is mine for being able to greet the Saint in person. I did extensive research on you to write this script. I've been dreaming of meeting you for a long time, but... the truth is that you have surprised me. I didn't think you were so beautiful...” “I… beautiful? Not at all…”

At the Archbishop's compliments, Esther buried her head deeply and turned even more red. Half confused, half flustered, she looked around for Abel to come to her aid. “It's the first time I've been invited to a box of honor at the opera, but hey, what a sight! Heh heh, I feel like God...”

The priest was lost in his thoughts, observing the theater, and did not realize that the nun was looking at him. In her imagination, Esther kicked him on the back, while scratching her head, wondering how to respond to the archbishop.

“May I ask you not to call me Saint? It's a too important word that I don't deserve at all...” “You don't deserve it? You are too modest, sister… ” D'Annunzio replied, still smiling, as if enjoying the young woman's bewilderment. Extending his hand to fix her cap, the archbishop looked at her with mischievous face “You are the holy maiden who protected the people and killed the evil demon... As Archbishop of Istvan I cannot be grateful enough. Tonight's performance is my humble attempt to help your feat remain in the memory of future generations.” “I am very grateful to you, but...”

With a tight smile, Esther awkwardly shook her head. Her face had suddenly lost its rosy color. Saint Esther? What all that was about?

She murmured that inside her with downcast eyes, it wasn't just because the name disgusted her.

A year ago a man had expired in her arms. He was someone who had loved his human wife, someone who had decided to fight the world as revenge because the humans themselves had taken the woman he loved from him.

The “evil demon” that D'Annunzio referred to was that being. Esther had been elevated to the category of Saint for the "feat" of having killed him, but there was something that did not convince her. All this seemed like a farce in which she did not want to be involved...

“Ah, by the way, Your Eminence, what about Cardinal Medici? I thought he was also going to be present at the ceremony for the fallen...” “Unfortunately, his commitments do not allow him to leave Rome. He said he would send a representative, but… still not arrived?”

D'Annunzio and Caterina began to talk about practical matters. Relieved that she was no longer the center of the conversation, Esther turned her eyes to the audience.

More than a thousand spectators filled the theater. They were all famous people from the city, but Esther didn't recognize any faces. During the reconstruction of Istvan, D'Annunzio had given preferential treatment to the industrialists of Rome and Venice to install their factories and banks in the city. The attendees were all rich people of that kind. The echoes of the conversations that were heard were not in Hungarian, but mainly in the official language of Rome.

The curtain was still down, but the actors could be seen waiting behind the scenes, probably to come out to say hello before the performance. Among them was a smiling young nun, the heroine portrayed in the flier. The hunchback next to her would be the Marquis of Hungary. The sinister makeup highlighted his monstrous appearance and showed long predator fangs. It couldn't be clearer that he was the bad guy in the story.

The fragile and beautiful heroine would go through many difficulties, but in the end she would defeat the monster and bring peace to the city. It was such a predictable story that just by seeing the actors you could already imagine.

But…

«But the fight end was much more complex», thought Esther, grabbing unconsciously the rosary that hung from her neck. «It’s not the urge to kill. I don't have such bad taste as to enjoy killing others. This is a fight for life»

The man who had said those words was not a mere “evil demon”, nor had Esther fought him for strictly holy motives. There were still many things that she did not fully understand, but it was clear that this had been a struggle for survival. If she had lost, it would have been Esther and her companions who would have died. Yet the young girl couldn't get a question out of her head: «Was it really an inevitable conflict?»

A nun like her couldn't ask such a question out loud. As long as she worked for the Vatican, a doubt like that was tantamount to questioning her own identity...

“Eh?”

Esther was lost in her thoughts for one moment, but at once came back to herself. Among the actors who had gathered in one corner of the stage, a figure that had gone out discreetly from behind the curtain of the opposite corner had called her attention.

It was one girl more or less of the same age of Esther, she had brown skin, an unusual color in the region, and her hair of a raven black. The combination of the daring opening of her dress with the long gloves decorated with precious stones gave her an extremely dramatical air. But what attracted the interest of Esther was neither her figure nor the clothes she wore. Those purple eyes that glowed in the well-proportioned face... she had seen them before somewhere.

“That girl looks familiar to me...” “Is there something wrong, Esther?”

The voice that echoed behind her was of the lanky priest, who was wandering absent-mindedly around the royal box. As he devoured with his eyes the plate of tea pastries next to the young woman, he asked:

“Suddenly you were silent, doing that face… Oh, do you have a stomach ache? Do you want me to eat those pastries? I don't mind doing you that favor...” “No,” Esther replied dryly, cutting off the priest and added, pointing at the girl with her finger: “Doesn't that girl looks like someone familiar to you, father? I've seen that face already... and not long ago.” “Eh, what girl?” The priest asked in an intrigued voice, and looking where Esther was pointing, he looked confused. “I don't see any girl… Ah, you mean that actress over there?” “No, I mean, the one that has come from the other si... Huh?”

When she looked back to the stage, Esther furrowed her brow, as well as Abel. The female figure that she had seen an instant before had disappeared. “But how strange... she was there a moment ago...” “Wow! Is that the actress who plays your role? I had seen her in the flyer, but in live she is even more beautiful!” Abel had already lost all interest in Esther and was absorbed in watching the group of actors. He made no effort to hide the drool from looking at the actress. "But what a beauty! Both in style and in attractive it is much better than the original… Ah, but don't be angry, Esther. It is undeniable that she is much more beautiful, elegant and seductive than you, but you have your special appeal. You don't have to worry.” “I have to take that as a compliment!?”

Esther put the cup of tea on the plate, ready to answer the priest as he deserved, but...

“Ah! The representation is about to begin...” murmured the Archbishop, raising the eyes to the clock and got up to say goodbye to the Pope and the Cardinals. “Holiness, Eminences, I hope you enjoy with the performance. Excuse me, I will give the welcome the public... Come on, Sister Esther.” “What!? Me?”

Esther was stunned, pointing her finger at herself as she blinked in surprise.Why did she have to accompany the archbishop to greet those people?Seeing the nun's confusion, the archbishop smiled and in a sweet voice, he dropped the bomb: “Let's greet the audience together… I suppose you have prepared a little speech.” “Sa... say hello to...? A speech!?”

At those completely unexpected words, Esther was dumbfounded. It was a joke? He couldn't expect for her to just come out on stage in front of the crowd and improvise a speech!

“Wait ... wait! It's a bit hasty...” “But haven't you come prepared? How clueless my Saint is... Well, what can we do? As I assumed something like this could happen, I have allowed myself the freedom to prepare a small draft. You just have to read it.” “Eh…? But…”

The archbishop seemed to be completely serious and handed her a pile of papers. Esther received them without knowing very well what to do and looked doubtfully to the priest, looking for his help...

“Ah, Esther! If you go on stage, can you ask that actress to sign an autograph for me?” Let it say,«To Father Nightroad, sweetheart» or something like that, okay? Heh heh heh...!” “!”

Saving her killer instinct for later Esther heaved a deep breath.There was no way out of it.

"Ugh, I'm late!"

Although it was still early November, the winter cold had already fallen on Istvan. Gloomy clouds covered the sky, and although the building was supposed to be equipped with heating, the white breath of the people walking through the lobby of the Opera House could be seen.

However, the male figure that rushed into the hall seemed immune to all of it. From the gigantic man who crossed the room devastating the carpet emanated a suffocating sensation of summer heat. It goes without saying that such a figure attracted all eyes, as if a monster from another world had suddenly appeared in the room; but the man seemed oblivious to it and advanced with a hard look, as if he were entering enemy territory.

“What a misery to have suffered a setback precisely when I am representing Cardinal Medici! This mistake can be very expensive, Petros!”

Dressed in the uniform of a secret police officer, Brother Petros looked up at the clock as if observing an ancient enemy. Although there were still twenty minutes until the start of the performance, he had committed a very serious fault by not having arrived before His Holiness made his entrance.

Anyway, he had only arrived in the city a few minutes ago, sent by his superior, who had too many business holding him back in Rome. He had not arrived by air, like the Pope, but had taken the land route. The planned inspection of the military facilities had taken him longer than planned, and that had caused the delay.

Although the inspection had been satisfactory, it was scandalous that the director of the Holy Inquisition arrived after the papal retinue. No doubt a severe reprimand from Francesco awaited him when he returned. If it was just a row that awaited him... There was one other thing that Petros had to worry about...

“Where will the honor box be? Eh…? Where the hell am I?”

As soon as he went through the lobby, Petros stopped. He had to accept that he was lost and began to look around, but none of the doors he saw were the ones he was looking for.

Indeed, he did not know where he was. He had stormed across the lobby, but had no idea how to get to the honor box. Resigned to search blindly, he began to scan the surroundings with a fierce grin, to see if he could find any sign, but could do nothing more than make a passing child cry.

The issue was that the box of honor was not accessible from the general entrance but it had its own access, but Il Ruinante had no way of knowing that. He gritted his teeth and prepared to undo his way when...

“Oh!”

Behind the intrepid warrior monk came a small cry of pain.

Turning around, Petros had collided head-on with a girl who was walking behind him. The girl fell on her back to the carpet, dropping what she was carrying.

“Aaah! Forgive me, sister! How clumsy you are, Petros!”

The man tried to apologize as he picked up the papers, which had been strewn down the hall. The nun was still moaning on the floor, clutching her bonnet.

“Excuse my ineptitude! Are you OK? Eh? You!?” As he helped the nun to stand up, Petros' face changed as he roared in surprise at his interlocutor, who was still reeling: “You are Esther Blanchett!” “Ah, brother… Petros, right?” Moved by the violence with which the inquisitor had spoken her name, the young woman stepped back, raising her tearful gaze to Il Ruinante, and bowed to him. “We haven't seen each other for a long time… Ah, thanks again for your support in Carthage.” “No, please, I'm the one who owes you... But what am I saying?!” Petros began to respond to the greeting automatically, but quickly came back to himself. This was not the time to chat! “Esther Blanchett! What are you doing here!? This is not the place for you!”

Finally the nun straightened with surprise in her eyes. “Well, I was getting ready for the speech. Archbishop D'Annunzio has ordered me to greet the audience with a few words and was reviewing the script...” “Has the archbishop ordered it? Impossible. How can it be that...?” Laughing like if he was talking to a little girl, Petros glanced at the script, his expression suddenly turning from skepticism to surprise. Topping the sheets was… the archbishop's seal!? The inquisitor began hastily reading the text. “Wha... but what...?! «Before all of you gathered here I want to raise my voice to denounce...»”

«Before all of you gathered here, I want to raise my voice to denounce that there is pure Evil in the world. I want to raise my voice to say that as long as that Evil is not exterminated, we will have no future. We must unite to fight and defend everything we love, everything we respect. It will be a difficult and tough fight, but all united in our Faith we must face…».

It was unbelievable, but it seemed to be, indeed, the script of a speech. And it took up almost fifty pages. The tone was a bit affected and overly dramatic, but the closing archbishop's signature seemed authentic.

“Hmmm! And the archbishop signed it... But I can't believe it! Why did he ask you to…!?” He said, looking at the nun with suspicious eyes. “Are you plotting against me!? Tell me the truth or you will regret it!” “Eh? The truth is that I have no idea what you are talking about for a while now...”

The young woman scratched her head, honestly confused. It was like talking to a drunk who did nothing but repeat the same story.

“It's not that I don't find it strange to be here, really. First I receive a notice from the Duchess of Milan to come to Istvan, then they ask me to give a speech... The truth is that the...” “The Duchess of Milan… Cardinal Sforza!?” Petros reacted quickly to the young woman's words. The Cardinal... what was that viper up to?

Actually, Petros was most concerned about what the Pope's stepsister might do during the visit. Taking advantage of the absence of Cardinal Medici, she could try to manipulate His Holiness or do some strange maneuver... He had to be prepared for anything, and the facts gave him reasons to suspect. So the viper had already set off... But he would not trip over the same stone of Carthage again. This time they would not escape from him!

Staring at the nun, who was staring at him in bewilderment, Petros clenched his fist. That witch had played with him in Carthage. Just when he was about to uncover her plot, all evidence had been destroyed. He knew with certainty that she had had contact with the vampires, although it had escaped him at the last moment. But this time he would catch her. He would discover what is she plotting around the Pope and would denounce it to the world!

“Ah, there you are, Sister Esther...”

A cold voice roused the inquisitor from his inflamed musings. It was an elegant male voice, interrupting him as if to protect the nun.

“I've been looking for you for a while. Eh? I think we've met before… What brings the Inquisition here, Brother Pietro Orsini?” “Yo... Your Excellence!” Hearing his secular name after so long, Petros turned as if an electric current had passed through his body. Seeing the archbishop approaching, he gave a forced salute. “How long! What a joy to see you again!” “Yes, a long time, Orsini. The last time we saw each other was when I left my charge as Director of the Inquisition, right? You were just a kid and look at you now. How time flies!” “I will never be grateful enough for your advice and your attention back then!” Said Petros, bowing deeply, as if he were a spring doll.

Il Ruinante’s sword was feared inside and outside the Vatican, but there were four people he bowed his head to. One of them was Archbishop D'Annunzio.

“Please excuse my delay. The review of the troops has taken me longer than I had calculated and the roads were collapsed...” “You can tell me that later...” the archbishop cut him immediately, turning around and say with sweet voice to Esther, who was watching them in astonishment. “Sister Esther, have you had a chance to read the script? It’s almost time for your speech. Let's go up on stage.” “Yes, I have read the text…” replied the nun, embarrassed, taking the papers that the inquisitor had returned to her with an impetuous gesture. “But, Your Excellence, am I really supposed to read that speech?” “Eh? What do you mean, sister?”

The archbishop was surprised to see the dark light that had covered the young woman's eyes, and asked with a cautious expression: “You don't like the parliament I have prepared for you? Does it not meet your literary expectations?” “No, is not that. It is wonderfully written and conveys the ideas very well… But the message…” The nun choked with her words… After hesitating and stammering for a few seconds, she looked up, determined. “Why make such a clear call to war? A year ago we fought the Marquis of Hungary, it is true. But it was a pure struggle for survival. We did not think of pretty phrases like «divine glory» or «security of human society»...” “Ah, that's what you mean...” D'Annunzio interrupted the young woman's fiery voice with great serenity. The archbishop's smile keep its charm, but his tone had a certain inhuman echo. “You don't have to take it so seriously, Sister Esther. The public gathered here tonight have not come to hear the truth. What they expect is a dramatic and exciting story… They want the story of the heroic maiden who struck down the evil vampire. Isn't it our obligation to meet those expectations?” “B... but...” “Listen to me, Saint...” D'Annunzio silenced Esther with a gesture and shook his head. The hallway had begun to fill up, and the archbishop lowered his voice, returning greetings to passing guests. “You are a very sweet girl, Esther. I fully understand that you don't like harsh words. But think about it for a moment. Although it has recovered a lot this year, Istvan is still going through difficult times. The life of the citizens, your compatriots, is still very hard. Think how important it would be for them to have a heroine...”

The archbishop placed a very white hand on her shoulder as he looked deeply into her eyes. “Esther Blanchett, you must be their Saint. You must be the image that encourage their hearts. You must be the strength and the hope of all those you love, of all humanity. I will show you how.” “...”

Esther was doubtful at the powerful words of the archbishop, after opening and closing her lips as if not knowing what to say, the girl sighed deeply.

“Good. I'll try.” “Good girl.” Nodding with satisfaction, D'Annunzio opened the door that led to the stage.“Sister Esther, it's time to go on stage. The public awaits you.” “OK…”

«The public awaits you». She would have felt joyful, but the worried expression of the girl did not changed. Even it could be said that the suffering is evident in her face. Anyways, Esther began to walk dragging her feet. She went through the door the archbishop had opened for her and disappeared down the dark corridor.

After closing the door, D'Annunzio made a sarcastic face.

“What a difficult Saint to handle... one breaks one's back to turn her it into a star, and she, in return, complains...” “Ah?” At the archbishop's cold laugh, Petros looked up in surprise. Opening the door again, D'Annunzio said in a clear voice, to the surprise of his former subordinate: “I never know how to treat smart ass girls. It's so boring having to lecture them like that… The tools should be quiet and just do what they are asked to do…” “A tool...? Your Excellence, when you say «tool» do you mean that girl? And what does it mean to «turn her into a star»?”

Petros asked in astonishment. So he didn't really think she was a Saint?

“Ah! So the director of the Inquisition is still there...”

The Archbishop of Istvan turned as if he was seeing a stranger and responded with the tone of someone who had just discovered a stain on his clothing.

“You heard me perfectly. Saint Esther is nothing more than an image created by the Vatican. It is a huge fiction promoted through the management of the media and the investment of large amounts of money...”

The bishop spoke confidently in the dark corridor, as if explaining everything to a tough-minded subordinate. “As you know, the Vatican is losing power over the secular states. To stop this trend, it is necessary to regain the center of social attention. Creating a Saint is part of that project. Esther Blanchett is nothing more than a tool for our plans...”

«You shall not worship idols», the Bible made it very clear. Didn't the archbishop know? D'Annunzio spoke as if he did not feel any apprehension or guilt for playing with the life of a girl and the faith of millions of people like that. “Besides, as a tool, it's first class. Her past is impeccable, and it doesn't hurt that she's so pretty… She has a very cute face, don't you think, Orsini?” “Eh? Well, I wouldn't know...” At the knight's embarrassment, the archbishop looked at him with mocking eyes. “You don't know about that? Well, it doesn't matter… I have to introduce my Saint to the public. Orsini, you can go to the box of honor. Then we will talk about your delay. Get ready.”

D'Annunzio turned, dropping those cold words, and reached for the door that led to the stage.

“Ah!?”

Frightened, Petros started to run away from his former superior, but just as he was about to give a farewell bow, he remembered that he still had something to ask him about. “Your Excellence... I really have a question to ask you before I present myself before His Holiness.” Half-closing the door, the archbishop turned with an annoyed gesture at the voice of his exasperating interlocutor. “What?”

D'Annunzio's voice was reminiscent of a teacher announcing to a student that he had failed. Petros barely repressed his desire to flee and ran from the archbishop just to ask: “I have just reviewed the City Guard, but… Your Excellence, what does this deployment mean? I have seen a complete division or even more. What about those tanks and aircraft!?” D'Annunzio continued walking as if he was unaware of the alarm that echoed in Il Ruinante's words. “I admire how you have managed to reform in just one year an organization that had been completely destroyed. But for a public order force it is a bit out of proportion. Is there something going wrong?” “Eh? What is going to go wrong?” The archbishop stopped for the first time.

Twisting his mouth, he answered coldly to Petros’ puzzled gaze. “Certainly the Guard's strength now exceeds what it was a year ago. Nobody hides it. But if the situation of the city is taken into consideration, it cannot be said that they are sufficient. After all, Istvan is the central column of the Vatican's eastern defense line. Their defensive potential has to be as great as possible... don't you think?” “If you will allow me to speak frankly, I think there is a problem of magnitude! The Second Division of the Vatican Army is deployed in this area, which is responsible of the defense work. The City Guard should only perform police functions. What is the point of equipping the police as if it were an army?”

The only response Petros' fiery speech got was a cold smile. “Well, well, I see that you still don't understand anything, Orsini...”

The archbishop made no effort to hide the malice and contempt on his face. As if he felt sorry for the stupidity of his interlocutor, he made a face, laughing through his nose. “Yes, there is an army division stationed here. But in the event of war, those troops will leave the region. Won't Istvan have to defend itself, then? That is why we have increased the strength of the Guard... Of course it costs us a lot of resources, but that is why we can’t afford to reduce it.” “But that dismantles all the plans of Rome and Cardinal Medici! Also, you speak of war, but now that the region has stabilized, where is the risk of war going to come from? Neighboring countries respect the authority of the Vatican and there is no sign of any disturbance to happen so...” “Brother Petros!!!”

The scream echoed like an ice whip. Throwing a defiant look at the inquisitor, the archbishop harshly carved his words into the dark air of the hall. “Are you the Director of the Holy Inquisition and you don't understand something like that!? Have you forgotten who the mortal enemy of humanity is!? Have you forgotten that this Empire of terrible devils is next to us!? If you've forgotten, I'll remind you. Never forget: this is Istvan, the front line of the battle against vampires!” “Ah…? But...”

Anyone who had attended their dialogue would have been frozen in surprise.Il Ruinante, known as the most implacable man in the Vatican, had fallen silent.

When he noticed Petros is not going to reply, the archbishop softened his expression. “Well, I don't want to lecture you anymore. Go back to the lobby. Didn't you come to escort His Holiness? That's all you're worth for. At least accomplish the mission you've been given.” “Y... yes! With your permission...” Gritting his teeth, Petros bowed.

He was not at all convinced by the reasons given by his former superior, but he had no proper reply at the time. He didn't have time either. He turned towards the exit when... Just then the door closed in front of him. And, as if they were waiting for that moment, the guards locked the door from outside.

“Hey…”

Had they locked him up!? Petros looked around him, bewildered. The doors that led to the stalls were all closed with bolt. The lighting in the hall began to dim as the lighting on the stage took hold. The warrior priest then heard the sound of the presenter's voice through the microphone:

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Istvan Opera House! In a few moments the Star of Sorrow will begin before all of you.”

“Petros, you are so clumsy!”

The inquisitor began to get nervous. He had to find a way to get to the Pope's box as soon as possible! However, as much as he searched everywhere he was not able to find an open door. Apparently the security measures were meant to keep the public effectively locked inside the theater.

He actually couldn’t make someone to open one of the doors invoking his authority as head of the Inquisition, if he did it, that would divert the attention of the speech that was about to start on the stage, and when they found out, the archbishop would scold him again some more.

“Before we start, the author of the script will say a few words of welcome… His Excellene the Archbishop of Istvan, Emanuele D'Annunzio!” “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

While Il Ruinante was sweating while desperately looking for a way out, the welcome speech had begun on stage. Taking the microphone, the Archbishop smiled with all his virile charm. However, the voice that began to echo through the room had the serenity of a servant of God.

“Welcome everyone. It has been a year since I received my appointment as Archbishop of this city. The road has not been easy, but with the help of the Lord and the collaboration of all of you, we have managed to happily overcome all the difficulties that have been presented to us so far. During this year we have defended in Istvan the glory of the Lord, who brought us a girl. I think we can be proud of it.”

After uttering those phrases almost without breathing, the archbishop was silent for a moment. He closed his eyes as if he were remembering all the efforts of that year and raised his face to the ceiling. Petros realized that this was not more than a theatrical gesture, but the audience seemed to understand it as one reaction of sincere religious piety. Some mature women even began to sob quietly in the excitement. Then, after checking that the entire room had gone completely silent, the archbishop opened his eyes again. Still smiling serenely, he raised his right arm to point to the small figure waiting at the base of the stage.

“Tonight I am moved to have the opportunity to express our appreciation to the person who made the rebirth of this city possible. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to the heroine who freed Istvan from the evil monster! Our hope before the devils that threaten us! Sister Esther Blanchett, Saint of Istvan!”

As thunderous applause rose, the hesitant figure of the nun appeared, equipped with a microphone. Blinking because of the bright spotlights and shrugging, the girl looked tiny in the middle of the huge stage, as if she were just a child.

«She's just a poor kid…» Petros thought as he watched Esther walk across the stage. Come to think of it, the poor girl deserved his compassion for many reasons.First, because she belonged to the Ministry of Vatican Foreign Affairs, which was the lair of that witch, Caterina Sforza. Besides, she had to work with those agents, who had a horrible reputation of being sacrilegious. He couldn't imagine how she could lead a pious life as a nun between them.

Above all, the entire show that night had not been sought by her, but had been implicated by the surroundings of D'Annunzio. At her young age, being worshiped as a Saint and being commissioned to make a speech to such an audience could only be considered a misfortune.

“Uh... uh... Go... good night to every... Oh, no...! Good evening, la… ladies and gentlemen. It is an honor to introduce myself to you. I am Esther Blanchett. I do not have words to express my gratitude for this opera to be performed in my honor...”

While Il Ruinante looked at her with compassionate eyes, the nun had started babbling. The inquisitor’s heart cringed just to see how her forehead was beaded in sweat and how her blue eyes were moving full of insecurity. Trying to smile faintly, the young lady put on the table the script that the archbishop had given to her before. Just when she deployed the first pages and prepared to start reading... the tragedy happened.

“Ah!?”

The first thing that echoed through the speakers was a small groan. The pages of the script Esther was going to read flew across the stage.

“No!” Cried Petros, as the papers fluttered like leaves blown up in the wind.Had she forgotten to re-tie the rope that held the pages together? The nun was trying to pick them up in haste, but many had already fallen off the stage. The girl's tensed face had lost all traces of color. But Petros and the rest of the audience didn't have to hold their breath for long.

At first, the nun was so stunned that she couldn't even speak, it was natural.

Having to improvise a speech in front of such a crowd, and also being people of such power in society… Even a veteran politician would have found it difficult. How could it cost to a girl who had just turned eighteen?

In view of the events, no one would have criticized her if she had fled the stage. But the Saint did not.Biting her lip as if she had made up her mind, she rose to her feet, adjusting the hem of her habit. She was still a little pale, but a powerful light shone in her blue eyes. As if attracted by that look, the audience's attention was concentrated on the girl's face when she began to speak...

“I beg your pardon for my clumsiness… The fear of speaking in front of so many people has left me a little stunned…” Esther began in a vigorous, almost savage voice. “A play will be performed in my honor tonight and I want to express my enormous gratitude to you for taking the time to attend the performance”.

Was this the same nervous nun who had trembled a few minutes earlier? Esther addressed the audience with her head up, as if all the perplexity of before had disappeared.

“Well, to be improvising she does it very well...” Petros said to himself with admiration, as he looked for the archbishop with his eyes. At the backstage, D'Annunzio seemed to be more tense than before, but he was still looking at the young woman with a satisfied smile. As the nun had read the script before, a few as she remembered, things would go more or less as he had planned. Petros expected the same when he looked back at the girl. She would probably invoke God and the Vatican, would praise the courage of the combatants a year ago and call those present to remain united. If she said that, nothing would be noticed...

“Thank you all. That was my intention... But now I have changed my mind...”

It would take a long time for Petros to forget how the atmosphere in the room changed with just that short sentence.What she’s going to tell them!? Glancing to the backstage, he saw how the archbishop had stiffened, staring at the nun in amazement, as if observing a ceramic doll that had suddenly begun to speak.

Esther was not looking at the archbishop, but at the room full of spectators. In her pupils were reflected the innumerable puzzled faces that had been nailed to her. The audience seemed hypnotized by the words of the Saint, who whispered slowly: “I have come to pray with all of you for the souls of those who shed their blood in battle a year ago. For that I have returned here, to my city.” The voice was not overly powerful, but it completely dominated the room, where not a cough was heard. Without being too high or too low, it filled the air with a clean and serene feeling. It was the perfect example of a pleasant voice. As proof of this, when hearing her, Petros had completely forgotten that he had to go to the royal box, nothing further from his mind at the moment than to get away from there.

Il Ruinante had been lost in thought, listening to the flow of that voice.

“A year ago, we got a lot of blood flowing. Blood of our comrades, blood of our enemies… It was a horrible battle. But then I thought there was no other option. To survive you had to fight. We couldn't help but spilling that blood. In those moments it seemed that we were at a crossroads between life and death. Yes, that was really the situation. That's why we took up the sword... But now, a year later, I have the feeling that «there was no other option» is not a sufficient explanation for that fight...”

Esther was silent for a moment after the long speech. At the view of the girl closing briefly her eyelids to soak in those memories, Petros thought that this nun did not seem at all like the girl that he knew. More than someone alive, it recalled to the images of Saints that appeared in the murals and religious paintings of the cathedrals. When she opened her eyes again, a sweet but intense light shone on them. Looking at the audience, which was in absolute silence, she continued with a calm voice.

“During that battle I met one person... one person who back then was my enemy. He was the man I was trying to kill. But he also believed he had to kill to me to survive.”

Her expression could not be said to be very refined, nor the sound of the words to be very beautiful. In spite of this, there was nobody in the room that was not captivated by the voice of the Saint. None of those celebrities and distinguished people uttered a single word. They were all focused, listening to the girl, who kept talking as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“But it wasn't true, no one should have died; However, due to a misunderstanding, at first, both he and I thought that we had to kill ourselves to survive… And not only him. I believe that among those we killed and who killed us there were many like him. Many who laughed like us, cried like us. Many who we hated. All possibilities were destroyed by a misunderstanding.”

Perhaps it was the memory of that man that made a trace of suffering appear in the serene voice of the girl. The audience also felt the sting of that painful memory in their chest. Looking ahead, Esther spoke without hurrying, without forcing the words, penetrating every corner of the hearts of the attendees.

“Ladies and gentlemen, distrust yourselves. Be suspicious of justice. Maybe we are too simple. Be suspicious of your ideas about justice in the world. Are they really correct? Aren't they often just what we want to believe? Don't we impose them on our neighbor many times? Be suspicious. Mistrusting these issues is not bad.”

«Be suspicious of justice».

Hearing those words, the audience felt a slight shudder. Since the nun had started her speech, that was the first moment of doubt. The audience had been rapt with her until then, but little by little the audience began to come to their senses. Esther was not flustered by the change in the audience, so she pushed herself even harder in her speech, expressively moving her arms.

“It may be that these words make you sad. You may think that everything is false and that nothing is certain. God and justice are nothing more than mirages… But they are not. We can distrust, distrust and distrust, but something will always remain. There is always something that cannot be denied… For example, on a winter night like this, meeting with the whole family in front of the stove and feeling the warmth in the heart…” The families in the audience exchanged glances, as if encouraged by the girl's words.“Or look at the starry sky from a deserted meadow and feel how precious our little existence is...”

As to embrace to all those present, the nun extended the arms and continued talking, pretending this time caress the soul with the voice.

“Love of oneself and of neighbor ... that's what remains in the end. That is what makes me believe in God. Because God loves us and has given us these gifts. So let's pray together. Let us pray for all the blood that was shed and the souls of all the fallen… Amen.” “Amen.” “Amen.” “Amen.”

Although they had wanted to rehearse it before, the response of those present would not have come out more conjoined. It seemed they had coordinated not only the breathing, but even the pulse. The echo of those words had scarcely been consumed when a thunderous round of applause went up. The ovation did not diminish after the nun finished bowing in thanks. After the archbishop's speech, the audience had remained seated, but Esther's words made everyone in attendance stand up to cheer her on. Even Petros, seeing the reaction from the room, was unable to suppress a cry of admiration.

“And she's just a little girl… What a charisma!”

N: A very old Petros’s coloring ;)

Just with the dubious name of Saint, the girl had managed to move more than a thousand people. This was not normal. Thinking ahead, Petros felt a slight concern.

If the artificial Saint that D'Annunzio and Borgia wanted to make was added that ability to attract the public, the potential of the girl was not negligible. If she developed her career under Sforza's guidance, she would be a formidable opponent for Cardinal Medici and his followers...

“Hey you! Where do you think you are going!? This is not the time for that yet!”

Those reproachful words that came from the base of the stage brought the warrior monk to his senses. Turning, he saw a Guard soldier in his gray-blue uniform arguing with someone carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. Probably wanted to give it to the Saint. The one who carried the bouquet was a young adolescent. From the daring evening dress she was wearing, she seemed to be the daughter of one of the attendees. However, her dark skin and pronounced features were a rare combination in these lands. Her eyes were slanted and her pupils a stunning amethyst color.The soldier holding her in the gray gloves began to speak in an increasingly harsh voice.

“Didn't you hear me? If you want to give the Saint a bouquet of flowers, you have to wait for her to come down from the stage. Go back to your seat and stay still.” “Stand aside,Terran!”

The young woman slightly moved the arm that the other was holding, It seemed a only symbolic gesture, but what happened then was anything but that.

The soldier, who was six feet tall and weighed a hundred kilos, flew off incredibly and slammed his face against the wall. The impact must have made him pass out. The horrible noise of his nose breaking was the only thing that accompanied his collapse to the ground.

The scene did not go unnoticed. Muffled shouts of astonishment began to be heard from the audience, and in the box of honor the cardinals had risen with tense faces. However, Petros wasted no time in observing the reactions of the attendees, because he had noticed that the young woman had too long canines between her lips...

“No! Get away from her you all!” Shouted Il Ruinante, wielding with each hand the screamers that he wore on his waist. “She is not human! Is a…!” “Nice to meet you, Terrans. My name is Shahrazad and I come from the True Human Empire…” said the girl, with a voice as beautiful as a bell, but at the same time full of defiant force.

As the bouquet of flowers was dropped, the long jeweled gloves she wore began to glow. Leaning them against the wall, the girl, or rather the vampire, looked directly at Esther, who made no sign of wanting to flee.

“This evening I come to see the killer who you call the Saint... and to kill her!”

With a thud, the wall began to crumble, looking like a spiderweb.

════════════╠☆╣════════════

And this is it my dear friends, I hope you have enjoyed this and the new Petros’ coloring I added. I tried hard not to include personal notes in the translation, because I love Petros so much and I was like reacting to everything that happened to him. Maybe that’s the reason I love this arc so much XD I want to thank you a lot for your patience, for those who still support this and help me out with it, and to those who share the love by rebloging and liking this. I truly apreciate that. See you soon on the next part, stay tunned because the best part is next to come. Please stay safe and healthy <3

#TrinityBlood #TrinityBloodNovels #fan translation #fan coloring #manga panel coloring #abel nightroad #esther blanchett #caterina sforza #brother petros #ROM IV #chapter 1 #part 2

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sugarandspace · 5 years

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One Missed Call (chapter 4)

Masterpost

Read on AO3

Alec had called him, and by the looks of it he had left Magnus a voicemail. Thousands of possibilities ran through Magnus’ mind and he was suddenly more awake than he had been in hours.

Magnus stared at the phone warily. A quick look at the notification showed that he had gotten the call around the same time he had left the meeting. Had Alec tried to call him for help? Had he hoped that Magnus’ meeting would already be over and he would pick up?

There was only one way to find out, so Magnus lifted the phone to his ear with a shaky hand, about to listen to the voicemail Alec had left. He straightened on his chair unconsciously, all his focus on the words he would hear.

At first, all he could hear was the amount of background noise, like someone hitting a wall and growling. The Forsakens, Magnus realised. It took a moment before Alec spoke, clearing his throat.

“Hey Magnus.”

His voice was uncharastically faint, lacking the strength it usually held. Especially in a battle. Magnus’ heart was beating fast and just those two words were enough to give him a feeling that he was not going to like this message.

It took a while before Alec spoke again.

“I know you said that you can’t answer your phone during the meeting, but I had to speak to you,” he said. “Even if you can’t talk to me back.”

It lightened the weight pressing on Magnus’ shoulders to hear that Alec hadn’t expected Magnus to answer his phone, but at the same time he couldn’t ignore the nagging thought that he could have answered this call. If only he would have stopped to turn his phone back on after the meeting. But he’d been too occupied with other things, and then all his focus had been on the fire message he had gotten from Jace. He hadn’t stopped to think that he would need his phone. Why hadn’t he tried to call Alec?

“I’ve got myself into a situation. And it’s - it’s bad Magnus. To be completely honest I’m not sure if I’m going to make it out of here alive.”

Magnus sucked in a sharp breath as he heard the words. Those words would haunt him in his dreams, he was sure of it. He could hear the emotion in Alec’s words, how much it hurt him to admit that. Magnus couldn't even imagine how Alec had felt. All alone in the building, cornered and without an escape.

Magnus ran his shaking hand through his hair in distress, the other hand holding tightly on the phone.

“I know Jace is going to blame himself if I end up dying. It was my call to send him back. We had to get the mundane to safety. We didn’t know it would come to this. Can you remind him of that for me? He needs to understand that.”

That was so typically Alexander - to worry for others while he was facing an almost certain death - that Magnus let out a sound that was some kind of a hybrid of a sob and a laugh.

“I want you to know that I’m going to try my best. I’m going to do all I can to make it back to you. I’m not ready to die-”

Alec’s voice broke and Magnus was pretty sure his boyfriend might be crying, and the sound itself was enough for the tears to overflow from Magnus’ own eyes. The voicemail was like torture. Magnus hadn’t paid too much attention to how the fight must have gone, all his focus on Alexander’s injuries and how they were healing. He hadn’t really stopped to think how Alec would have been feeling during the fight. To know that - to hear Alexander himself talking about how he wasn’t sure if he would live to see Magnus again - it was horrible.

But Magnus wasn’t going to stop listening.

“But if this truly is the end, I just wanted to say thank you.”

It was obvious Alec had steeled himself, unwilling to break down on the phone. It gave Magnus a whole different kind of feeling, like cold dread running down his spine, to hear the factual tone in his words. He had to keep his eyes on Alexander’s face, on the skin that was now clear from cuts, to remind himself that Alec had made it through it. He was safe, he was with Magnus, and Magnus was going to make sure that something like this wasn’t going to happen again.

“Thank you Magnus. I can say with certainty that I wouldn’t be the man I am today if it weren’t for you. You helped me come to terms with myself in a way I never thought possible. You gave me a relationship I never even dared to dream about, a life I never thought I could have. I’m so grateful for the years I got with you, they’ve been the best years of my life. I’m sorry I’m leaving you behind so early.”

The tears kept falling as he listened his boyfriend’s sincere words come through the phone. Magnus lifted his hand to cover his mouth, worried that the sounds that were escaping him would disturb Alec, or wake up Jace.

Jace definitely didn’t need to wake up to the sounds of crying now that he was finally resting. Who knows where his mind might go.

A part of Magnus wanted to stop listening. He didn’t want to hear Alec saying goodbye, no matter if the message had ended up being unneeded. But Alec had obviously left the message for Magnus in case he wasn’t going to make it through, and the words he were saying were obviously important to him. Magnus was going to listen through it, every last word, no matter how much they hurt to hear.

They had obviously hurt Alec as much to say.

“That is, if I don’t make it out here alive.”

“I could spend the whole day on the phone listing things I’m grateful for or things I love about you. But unfortunately I don’t have the time for that. I hope with all my heart that I’ll see you later.”

It was quiet for a while after that, and Magnus wondered what was going through Alec’s mind. Was this the end of the voicemail?

During all this Magnus kept his eyes on Alec on the bed, a reminder that he was safe and in their home. He could see Alec stirring, his eyes squeezing tightly shut before they opened slowly. Magnus wanted to leap out of his chair and get closer, bombard Alec with questions about where it hurt and how he could help. He wanted to tell him that he loved him time and time again until Alec got tired of hearing that.

But he didn’t do any of that, his body frozen as he listened to the voicemail. He was afraid of what he would hear but he couldn’t make his body to move and put the phone away.

“I- ah, I have to go,” Alec said on the phone while the Alec on the bed seemed to get his bearings back, his eyes locked to Magnus’ in alarm as he noticed that he was crying, but then his expression turned solemn as he seemed to realise what Magnus was listening. He looked apologetic, and it was not a look Magnus wanted to see on Alec’s face right now. “I just needed you to know that I love you.”

“Alexander,” Magnus breathed out as he heard the noise signalling that the voicemail had ended. Magnus’ voice broke on the one word, and he let his phone slip from his fingers, let it tumble to the chair next to his thigh as he slowly lowered his hand.

He was at a loss for words.

How should a person react when they hear their boyfriend saying goodbye? When the person Magnus loved with his whole soul had thanked him for loving him?

Magnus didn’t know, and it was obvious Alec didn’t either.

They stared at each other, tears still silently falling from Magnus’ eyes. Alec still had that heartbroken expression on his face and as he reached his hand towards Magnus, it broke Magnus from his shock and he leaned forward, taking hold of Alec’s hand and pressing a soft kiss to his palm before placing it on his own cheek and holding it there.

Alec’s thumb brushed at the tears under Magnus’ eye.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse from disuse and emotion.

And how did he know that it was exactly what Magnus needed to hear? He took a deep breath, gathering himself because Alec was right. That voicemail could have been the last thing he heard from his boyfriend but instead he got this. He got the words telling him that he was fine, he got Alec back to their home and got to hold his hand.

Magnus leaned down to press his lips against Alec’s, just a soft press of lips against lips.

He got to kiss him again.

Alec had made it out of that building like he had talked about, like he had promised to try. Magnus should have known that if Alec were to promise something there would be no holding him back. Magnus pulled back and took another deep breath before he spoke.

“You’re okay,” he repeated the words, letting them sink into his mind and in his heart, lessening the pressure he felt behind his eyes. “I love you so much.”

Alec kept his eyes tightly shut, inhaling deeply.

“I wasn’t sure if I would ever hear that again.”

Alec’s words were quiet, and Magnus wasn’t sure if he was even meant to hear them. But he did, and the hurt they caused felt more agonizing than Magnus could have ever imagined. It also made him want to say the words again. And again. And again.

“I love you Alexander.”

Alec opened his eyes and looked at Magnus, his eyes still threatening tears but there was also a small smile on his face as he replied. “I love you too.”

Magnus couldn’t help himself, he leaned back in and kissed Alec again.

“We were all so worried,” Magnus told Alec as they separated. He let go of Alec’s hand as he tried to position himself on a more upright position on the bed. Magnus rushed to help by rearranging the mountain of pillows at the headboard, helping Alec settle comfortably against them.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said, reaching at Magnus’ hand that was resting on the bed next to his thigh.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Magnus said. “You almost died, you don’t get to apologise.”

Alec’s response was a tired smile, accompanied with a shrug of his shoulders. It was obvious that he hadn’t fully restored all his energy yet, but Magnus was glad to see him awake. He would gladly let Alec go back to sleep now that he’d got to see him awake - had got to see him healthy and talking. It eased Magnus’ mind more than words could describe.

“It’s me who should apologize,” Magnus said, his tone low with regret.

“What are you talking about?” Alec asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I didn’t answer your call,” Magnus explained.

“Magnus, I didn’t expect you to-”

“I know,” Magnus said, interrupting what was probably going to be a long speech about how this wasn’t Magnus’ fault, but Magnus needed to get this out. “I wasn’t even in a meeting anymore when you tried to call me. I just hadn’t had the time to turn my phone back on. I could have answered that call. Maybe I would have been there faster. Maybe-”

“And maybe not,” Alec said, interrupting Magnus this time. “You can’t dwell on what ifs. I knew you couldn’t answer your phone. That is not why I called you. I just- I didn’t want to go without saying goodbye.”

Alec turned his attention from Magnus’ face to the hand that was on his lap, his fingers playing with Magnus’ rings. Magnus lifted his other hand to cover Alec’s fidgeting fingers, calming them.

“I know,” Magnus said, watching as Alec lifted his head and looked him into his eyes again. Magnus couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were still looking quite watery. “I’m so proud of you Alexander. You made it. You fought your way out of there. We saw the hallway, all those bodies. It was far from a fair fight but you made it out alive.”

“Thanks to you and Jace,” Alec said, trying to deflect.

“No,” Magnus said, his voice soft but stern. “We helped you, but it’s because of you that you’re alive now. You didn’t give up, you fought even when the situation looked impossible.”

“I have plenty of reasons to fight,” Alec replied, wiping his eyes. The words made Magnus smile impossibly wide.

“And I’m so happy to hear that.”

“Wait,” Alec said suddenly, his eyes widening in alarm. “My bow? And stele? I lost them in the fight.”

“All here in the loft, my dear.” Magnus replied, placing a calming hand on Alec’s shoulder. “You need to rest. You were exhausted when we got you here. I was able to heal your injuries but I couldn’t take away the strain the fight had caused you.”

“Thank you,” Alec said. “I’m sure you did more than was needed.”

“As if that is an issue,” Magnus argued. “I would have done all that I could to take away all the pain and discomfort you might have felt, even if it meant using all my magic.”

“And we’ve talked about that,” Alec argued, fondly rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. “I don’t want you to exhaust yourself. I’m sure you went overboard this time too. I’m fine with letting some of the injuries heal on their own. Or even with irazes. It would do me no good to wake up feeling better than ever and see you passed out next to my bed.”

“And it would hurt me to see you in pain when I could easily take that pain away,” Magnus retorted.

“I’m never going to win you in this, am I?” Alec asked, admitting defeat.

“I’m sorry but you’re not,” Magnus replied. It felt good to be like this, like the last day hadn’t happened and they were just playfully arguing about the same topic that raised to the surface more often than not in their household. “We just have to agree to disagree. And you have to stop getting yourself into these situations.”

“I will promise you that I’ll try my best,” Alec said, and Magnus knew that was the best he was going to get.

“Good.”

A silence fell over them after that, both just content to be in each other’s company, holding the other’s hand while they processed the situation. Magnus tried his best not to think about how the reason Alec kept holding his hand more tightly than usually was probably because he had thought that he’d never get to feel that again.

Magnus just kept holding on tighter, letting the pressure ground him to the moment.

-.-.-

A/N: I hope it lived up to your expectations?

Also, I’ll be out of town next week and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to take my laptop with me. If I can’t, I won’t be able to update on Thursday. In that case I update on Friday!!

#malec #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #shfanficnexus #my writing #one missed call #ahhh i'm nervous #i hope you like this

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ketzwrites · 5 years

Text

Rewatch 112: Malec

Love. That’s it. That’s the comment.

No, of course it isn’t.

Teaser

I’m still surprised by how neatly Jace and Clary’s arrival with the Mortal Cup tied things up, but hey, let’s get right to the wedding, then.

We’re underserved when it comes to Jace and Izzy interactions and this one is as impersonal as they come. I want some follow through on Alec saying Izzy is his sister, not his and Jace’s. I want Izzy talking to Jace about his finding out he is Valentine and Jocelyn’s son. Anything more than this bland “Jace is angry, Izzy is not.”

Act One

Clary seems at peace now that Jocelyn is safe. Not happy, of course, but her tone of voice is calmer, more centered. Good acting on Kat’s part in a season she is mostly known for butchering.

Funny how Alec and Clary were smiling at each other and, you know, having a sort-of-friendship in this season only for the writers to go “nope, Alec is back to completely and only hating her” on the start of the next one.

Now, I don’t get this move on Magnus’ part. In their last conversation, he tried to talk Alec out of sacrificing himself. Alec didn’t listen. Now Magnus is… seducing him out of sacrificing himself? Why is Magnus this invested in Alec? I’m glad he is, but why?

Magnus says he will not ask again, but then there is never a scene in which Magnus asks Alec what his choice is. There is only Magnus being passive-aggressive.

Why doesn’t Clary tell Simon she and Jace are siblings? By what she says in this phone call, it sounds like they had a fight. Good thing Simon knows what’s going on.

Jace and Clary are so awkward. I love it.

Interesting how Magnus protests Ragnor being the list, but not Catarina or Tessa. It’s purely Magnus being an ass to his friend.

Alec and Magnus are so awkward. I love it. Still don’t understand why Magnus would act entitled to Alec’s love like this, but I love it.

Awkward exposition delivery by extraordinarily pretty Izzy. I see you, Ed Decter. Good move.

Alec’s jokes are so underrated. Platinum, Turning over a new leaf, Sisters can really drive you nuts sometimes. All very witty, all deserve more recognition.

When you first watched this scene, could you imagine that Jace was right? Jocelyn really didn’t want her son Jonathan. Well, that Jonathan wasn’t Jace, but the point is: Jocelyn really is the asshole that Jace paints her to be. Valentine didn’t even have to lie about that.

Act Two

I honestly see Jace’s discomfort in discussing his feelings for Clary as being nauseated by the notion that he fancied his sister. Not an “I still love her, so I feel bad”. A “how could I think I was in love with my sister?”

Why is the fire green? Because it’s a wink to Ragnor being green in the books. It has to be because green fire on green grass looks awful.

Subtle changes in your eyes? Subtle? Also, if Jocelyn and Ragnor met in the early 90s while they lived in Idris, that means they met while Jocelyn was a Circle Member. Why is Ragnor on her side??

I love how the characters say “the Book of the White”. Everyone says it like it like it’s one word “debukofdewyt”. I also love the friendship between Magnus and Ragnor.

I wish we’d seen something that warned us Jace, Clary, and Magnus were being followed. It would make Ragnor’s death less sudden and, thus, less ridiculous. A warlock considered more powerful than Magnus shouldn’t die out of the attack of one Shax demon.

Act Three

How does Izzy still think the people in Institute are her family when they sat and watched in silence that farce of a trial almost derune and exile her?

Question: if Lydia is Head of the Institute, wouldn’t they have to run the mission to Ragnor Fell through her anyway? In fact, wouldn’t they need her permission? I’m just saying, anyone with high enough access could’ve learned about this mission from looking at the files. We know the mole was Hodge, but it’s a possibility that Jace, Clary, and Izzy should’ve entertained.

There’s no way Lydia would “slip up” with the way Clary conducted that conversation. It’s almost as if Clary doesn’t think Lydia is guilty and just wants to give her a Shovel Talk on behalf of Alec.

“Alec’s love for his family and his desire to restore the Lightwood name have touched me in ways I haven’t felt in a long time” is so uncomfortable to hear coming from a straight woman about to marry a gay man.

Simon ordering around vamps and borrowing Raphael’s clothes is so confusing to me. Does that mean he and Raphael are friends now? Friendly? Is Simon fitting in? What is this?

Regardless, the first instance of Izzy and Simon being friends.

I still don’t get if Ragnor’s apparition is supposed to be magic or if it’s supposed to be a figment of Magnus’ imagination.

Goddammit. I don’t care about Alec and Jace’s friendship. I have no idea what their relationship was before Clary showed up – or rather, the little that I know comes from Simon saying that Jace treats Alec like a lap dog, Izzy defending Alec from Jace, and Jace saying that Alec would die for him. None of that makes me want Alec and Jace to be friends the way they were before.

Okay. I’m not on board of Alec equating his feelings for Magnus to Jace’s feelings for Clary in this context. They are talking about a normal love between two men equated to romantic love between siblings. Those things are not equivalent and that should’ve been pointed out.

What I am on board with is Alec hijacking the conversation and shifting it from Clary to Magnus and Jace going along with it. This is the first and only conversation Jace and Alec have about Alec’s feelings.

Act Four

I absolutely love this scene with Magnus and Ragnor. The only way to make it better would be to link this conversation about love to Magnus grieving for his lost friend.

Maryse being proud of Alec in these circumstances breaks my heart.

Simon’s little smirk over catching Jace staring makes him look like a douche. Congrats, man. The girl you like isn’t in a relationship anymore because she and her boyfriend found out they are both kids of a psychotic blood supremacist who messed up her boyfriend’s mental health. How fortunate for you.

The Malec Kiss. Enough said. Okay, just one thing. I’m glad Magnus didn’t burst in saying he objected to the wedding. He walks in as if he’s just coming to the ceremony and seems genuinely surprised it has already begun. Then, it’s Alec that takes the opportunity and puts an end to this madness.

Act Five

The order of reactions immediately after Alec’s coming out: Magnus. Maryse and Robert. Izzy. Simon??

I’m not going to lie. I shipped Lydia and Jace the first time I saw this scene. I did.

I adore this shot of Magnus’ hand and the objects burning into existence. And the fact that Magnus’ presence in the Institute continues to miraculously make Alec lose pieces of clothing. First, it was his shirt, now it’s his jacket.

So, nobody questions Clary about the Alternate Dimension? Neither Magnus nor Alec has any reason to have known she went there.

Again, I wish there was more of a build-up to an attack on Lydia. Someone following her. We could even learn it was Hodge here. Maybe he pretends to go check on her and then attacks her? Just something so this doesn’t come out of nowhere like this.

Act Six

When I first read the books, I read “JC” in Portuguese in my mind. “Jota Cê.” That’s very different from “Jay Cee”. I don’t know if I would have caught that Jace = JC had I read it in English. I kind of want it to be mentioned earlier in the show just to be dismissed like “Jonathan Christopher was a very common name at the time” or something like that, but I understand the dramatic value of having Jace make the connection now.

Not to be that person, but Jonathan’s hair is in that box. Izzy is a forensic scientist. She could’ve done a simple DNA test to check if the famously manipulative Valentine was telling the truth.

Just as with Alec and Jace’s friendship, I never saw enough darkness in Jace to believe it when he says it has always been there. Arrogant? Yes. Emotionally constipated? Definitely. Evil? Nope. Not the guy who warned Simon about Izzy’s cooking, that studied the Seelies culture, that risk everything for a girl he was crushing on.

Alec standing up to his parents is a delight. Funny how Maryse was the clear villain while Robert is the more sympathetic parent. Not going to call him all the way supportive, but he at least tried to understand what was going on. Also, the little interactions between Alec and Magnus. sdsa;ksk my heart.

Yes. This exchange between Hodge and Luke. This is what Hodge should’ve done with Lydia. By now, we’d be watching Hodge in action and yelling for Luke not to go. Though, there is no reason for Hodge to invoke Valentine in the middle of the training room. That’s kind of a public place in the Institute. You’d think he would be more careful.

#ketz rewatches shadowhunters #sh 112 #sh meta

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cassandraclare · 6 years

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Q&A TDA

thedarkmarvels said:

hi cassie! will we find learn who kits mother is in qoaad, or will that have to wait until twp? geniusherondale said: hello Cassie!! can you tell us a clue about kit's mother? uriecookie12 said: Hi, Cassie. :) I really love your books and I fell in love with Ty and Kit. Will we see Kit’s mother in QOAAD or is she set to show up in TWP? Lots of love.

A very popular question! Obviously the identity of Kit’s mother is a mystery right now, and a significant one. Kit only knows the story his father told him, which isn’t true. A great deal of the details of this mystery are shown in Ghosts of the Shadow Market: we will meet her, as part of Jem and Tessa’s search for the Lost Herondale. If you don’t read Ghosts, you’ll get the answer to Kit’s mother’s identity in Queen and TWP.

It’s a fairly significant part of Kit’s story, and part of the reason Jem and Tessa were so keen to find him.

history-maker-viktuuri said:

Hello Cassie!! Can you tell us more about the dynamic of the friendship between Ty and Kit in QoAaD?? I’m looking forward to reading more about them.

Obviously the dynamic between Kit and Ty is going to be significantly affected by Livvy’s death. It’s a crushing occurrence for Ty, and the way he responds to it is going to affect his future and his relationship with Kit. Kit is desperate to make sure Ty is okay in the moment, so much so that it may blind him to longer-term issues.

feyreismeiamfeyre said:

Hi, Cassie! So, I love Julian very very much, along with a bunch of other characters, but with him I feel the most in common what with him being almost like a parent figure to his younger siblings and taking care of them... My question is, will Julian get a happy moment in QoAaD (he truly deserves many many of them)? Like a chill and joyous moment with no drama, maybe a beach day or a moment of enjoying his favourite sandwich with lots of pickles and mayo... I just want him happy!

——

In a strange turn, there is a scene where Julian eats a sandwich. BUT IT CONTAINS THE BLOOD OF HIS ENEMIES.

Okay, it doesn’t really. It contains lettuce.

Maggie Stiefvater has a really interesting post about downtimes for characters, and why we want to see them be happy and relax, because it’s a release of tension, but also the way you buy that relaxation at the expense of plot. I think it’s an interesting piece about how writers calibrate tension and catharsis carefully in books, since too much of one or the other ruins your pacing. She calls scenes where people, say, happily eat a sandwich Ice Cream Cake scenes, which is funny in the sense I’ve always called them frosting scenes — as in, frosting on cake is great but an entire cake made out of frosting is disgusting. So I guess I would say that if you look at my books you can see that characters are usually happy and bantering and doing cute stuff in small moments between bigger ones, or at the end of the book where we sigh, sit back, and allow ourselves to relax.

lilyherondale13 said: Hi Cassie! I love your work, you are such a wonderful writer! May I ask you something: could you tell us something on we don't know yet on Rayan Maduabuchi? I love him in Lord of Shadows! Ps: I love the Centurions, but only the good ones as Diego says! (Sorry for my english, I'm French). Xoxo!

Merci! ;) I’m fond of Rayan too — along with Divya Joshi he forms a sort of power triad with Diego at the Scholomance, in terms of the Centurions who aren’t assholes. He helps Diego hide Kieran, and rescues Kieran from a specific and unusual torment set up by the Cohort. He also runs afoul of Horace Dearborn . . .

alessandra-lightwood said:

Hi Cassie! I'm very anxious for QoAaD, and I would like to know if Jamie has a big role in this book? And if we meet more Rosales, like Cristina's mom?

You might well meet Cristina’s mom ;) Jaime has a role in this book, but it is not huge — Diego has a much much bigger role, because Jaime is one of the main characters of TWP and so this series is meant to serve as an introduction to him, not a telling of his story. This is Cristina and Diego’s time (as far as Rosaleses go) and Jaime’s comes later. Jaime’s a lot of fun, so I’m definitely excited for his place at the forefront.

helen-blackthorn said:

Hey Cassie, will we be seeing a lot of Dru & Helen bonding now that she’s back and Livvy is gone? I’d love to see more sisterly bonding in TDA especially after what happened in lord of shadows!

I think it’s natural to look at Dru’s situation (and Helen’s) and think they each just lost a sister, so here’s a sister restored to them, and clearly they would be joyous. And they are, but people are more complex than that. Dru worries Helen has been away so long that they won’t understand each other, and resents Helen for doing the things Julian usually does because it feels to her as if he’s being replaced. Helen worries that Dru won’t love and accept her, and worries she has no idea how to deal with kids or raise them. Aline makes a frittata. It’s not as if they don’t bond, but it’s a complicated path!

ailecstuff said: Is Kieran ok? Do they take care of him in the Scholomance? Are they giving him good food?

Diego is the one who takes care of Kieran in the Scholomance (along with Divya and Rayan) and it’s all from his POV. The Scholomance experience really changes Kieran, in the way he looks at the world, at Shadowhunters and even at his own responsibilities to his people. In the meantime he annoys Diego by sleeping under his bed, and Diego feeds him juice, berries, meat, and anything else unprocessed. :P

carolinagain said:

Hi Cassie. i absolutely loved kieran! his redemption, his flaws, his strength, his relationship with christina. i have made some awful mistakes, and seeing characters like kieran who have too but then overcome them is so comforting and inspiring, in a way. i am wondering if we will see more of kieran as a character in himself? not just mark's ex, but as the exiled faerie prince? we did a little LM, and i loved it sm! thank u for such a wonderful, diverse cast of characters. much love to you! <3

I’m glad you like Kieran! Of course Kieran’s relationships with other characters, including Cristina and Mark, are extremely significant to him — they are an enormous part of how he has changed, and overcome his past mistakes. All characters are defined in part by their relationships with other characters, as Emma and Julian’s relationship is significant to them, as Emma’s relationship to Malcolm defines her, as Julian’s relationship with Ty changes him, as Mark’s relationships with Kieran, Cristina and Julian define him — we are all an interconnected web of love and friendship and enmity and forgiveness. No man is an island, etc. ;)

That said, Kieran being an exiled Faerie prince has always been significant, from his ability to gather information that would save Tavvy in LM, to his summoning of his father and meeting with Adaon in LoS. It is even more significant in Queen, where we start to see how the politics of faerie are falling apart and building back up again, and what role Kieran has in all of that. Who will sit the Unseelie Throne if not the King we know is a big piece of the QUAAD puzzle, and Kieran is integral to that — with Mark, or Cristina, or both, by his side. ;)

takemy-hxnd said: Hi Cassie, I was wondering if you could tell us more about Helen and Aline in tec and tda. Thank you

I always love to see love for Helen and Aline! Helen and Aline are back in Queen of Air and Darkness with a bang, and we see how they work with the established dynamic of the LA Institute. Everyone is thrilled to have them back, but it is also weird when a disruption comes to one's life, even if it is a joyful disruption. Aline is always standing up for her lady, and sometimes Helen really needs it.

And in The Eldest Curses, we see Helen and Aline fall in love, and before they are united, they are at odds--Aline wants to protect Alec, and Helen is investigating Magnus and Alec for crimes they may well have committed. Helen feels like she needs to be a great Shadowhunter, to prove her faerie blood doesn't make her prejudiced in favor of Downworlders... and part of why she wants that is that she doesn't want to be an obstacle for any of her little brothers and sisters, who she loves so much. She wants to make her dad and her family proud of her, and to honor the memory of Eleanor Blackthorn, the human mother who took her and Mark in, and raised them as her own. So Helen and Aline's mutual attraction is very complicated. Particularly as Aline isn't out quite yet.

yourfavoritetumor said:

Will we see Jace and clary in Qoaad, and if so will we get their POVs?

You will see them. POVs are pretty unlikely, but there is a special additional story about them in the first edition of Queen!

#tda #blackthorns #shadowhunters #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #qoaad #queen of air and darkness

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faejilly · 6 years

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i am for you (5/?)

One misdirected email leads to bonding over bookstores & bad fiction, sleep-deprivation, the introduction of the Lightwood-Garroway Family Hedge, and Magnus and Alec falling in love. (AO3) (series tag)

aka the morning after date night, and everyone else has noticed Alec & Magnus are kind of bonkers ;)

[lwgroup mms]

[jace] last night huh

[simon] yeah, did you see they left hand in hand?

[simon] I hadn't even finished my first set.

[simon] did we know Alec moved that fast? I did not know Alec moved fast

[maia] not sure I've ever seen Alec move at all

[maia] minus that one time

[simon] when we all learned he'd probably never had trouble picking a guy up in his life?

[maia] that and he likely has a really successful sex life that I do not want to know anything about

[jace] I can never decide if I'm glad I missed that or not

[izzy] how did you miss that?

[clary] blonde bartender I think?

[jace] well it's not like I knew my brother was going to put on a show so I should flirt later

[lydia] he's done it more than once. I still can't believe none of you knew

[clary] he does not go bar-hopping or clubbing or date-night anything with us

[izzy] or if he does he's all in big-brother mode, which isn't apparently compatible

[maia] shame. I'd love to see Bat's face at THM, you know?

[clary] anyways!

[clary] Actual question. Do you think Alec's gonna remember the book signing this afternoon?

[izzy] I'm not sure he's going to be able to walk, are you?

[jace] you know Alec doesn't talk about his sex life

[jace] stop

[izzy] never

[clary] that's what they said?

[jace] not you too!

[simon] pretty sure it's everyone except you

[simon] they looked good together

[maia] can't argue with that

[jace] I could try?

[clary] aren't you happy for him? I've never seen him like that

[jace] well. Yeah. Of course

[jace] but I didn't even know he was seeing anyone and then

[jace] They were intense

[izzy] he wasn't seeing anyone

[jace] what?

[izzy] that was their first date

[clary] that's impossible, did you see them?

[lydia] really? Because they were. I saw them on my way in and that was not. Nevermind.

[maia] you cannot start a sentence like that and just stop

[lydia] I saw a bit of the lipgloss transfer and that's all you're getting

[simon] in the street outside you mean? That is also. Alec has hidden depths guys, how did I not know any of this about him

[simon] did all of you know any of this about him and I'm just the really unobservant one?

[maia] not just you, babe

[clary] c'mon Izzy. Magnus came in to look for that first book awhile ago and you should have heard the way he said Alec's name

[jace] plus last night they were all? You know.

[maia] the word you want is eye-fucking

[jace] that was not at all the word I wanted

[jace] you're not wrong, though

[simon] Maia's almost never wrong, you should be used to that

[clary] you're biased, Simon

[simon] but also not wrong!

[clary] true. Love you, Maia

[maia] you are all ridiculous

[lydia] including Alec. I don't know why it's such a surprise. You're all alike, you Lightwoods. Very dramatic.

[jace] hey

[maia] and that's the most Not Wrong thing anyone has said so far today

[clary] I'm included in that aren't I?

[simon] pretty sure we both are at this point

[clary] we're a weird family, aren't we

[maia] and yet Lydia and I hang around with you voluntarily

[lydia] that may say more about us than them, huh?

[maia] maybe

[lydia] good thing they're cute

[izzy] we're gorgeous, not just cute

[lydia] and incredibly overwhelming

[lydia] not first-date material at all

[maia] and yet another good point. We're rocking it today.

[izzy] I'm serious though!

[izzy] Alec was worried about his first impression

[izzy] he voluntarily asked me for advice on what to wear

[clary] wow

[lydia] it's the end times

[jace] damn

[jace] that's worse though

[jace] he doesn't even really know the guy?

[jace] none of us know anything about him

[clary] come on Jace, you saw the way Magnus looked at Alec. don't you want that for him?

[simon] not just the eye-fucking even

[maia] I don't think that's helping, Simon

[izzy] you've got to trust his judgment Jace, it's his life

[izzy] everyone's allowed one grand romance, aren't they?

[jace] I want to say no

[jace] it's so impulsive

[jace] we're not good at impulsive

[lydia] despite all the practice?

[maia] lydia: 4 lightwoods: 0

[jace] I'm serious. what if it goes wrong?

[lydia] it's worth it before-hand

[jace] fuck. Lydia, I'm sorry

[lydia] it's all right. But I wouldn't give up a single day we had, even knowing how it ended

[lydia] and I'm not about to take that choice away from Alec, either

[jace] well. Way to be fucking reasonable and make me feel like an asshole

[izzy] you're always an asshole Jace, it's part of your charm

[jace] shut up

[izzy] never. I love you.

[jace] love you, too

[lydia] and peace is restored to the Lightwood clan

[clary] but seriously guys

[clary] should I call him about the book signing? Because if he forgets

[simon] or can't walk

[clary] shush. If he's not there I've got to find someone else to help

[simon] I'm free this afternoon, Fray. I'll help. And if he does show, hey, then we can both ask him how the rest of his date went, and report back on how much he blushes.

[izzy] I want pictures of his face during that conversation

[maia] no. we'll be working. It is our JOB.

[simon] not my job, I'm a volunteer. I'll get 'em for you. Don't worry.

[izzy] you're the best

[simon] thanks. We're a really good, weird family, I think.

[clary] yeah, we're pretty cool

[lydia] and so humble

[izzy] you love us though

[lydia] must be something wrong with me

[jace] that's why you fit in so well

[lydia] I cannot decide if that's a compliment or not

[maia] pretend it is. It's the only way to survive

[izzy] hey, Jace

[jace] what?

[izzy] did you start a new text chain today, or is this the regular one?

[jace] shit

[maia] what?

[maia] Oh

[clary] guess I don't need to call Alec

[simon] he's gonna see all of this isn't he

[lydia] kind of surprised he hasn't already

[izzy] I'm not. You guys didn't see his face when they were leaving.

[izzy] they're probably still sleeping off last night. Or starting off the morning again.

[maia] and that may be even more not wrong than the rest of it. Sorry Lydia, you've lost your title

[lydia] somehow I'll just have to try and live with the crushing disappointment

***

[cat] did Magnus talk to either of you about brunch today?

[raphael] no

[ragnor] why?

[cat] he had a date last night

[ragnor] he goes out almost every weekend unless he's got a show. That has never impeded the making of mimosas.

[cat] not just he was going to go out, he had a DATE

[cat] the kind you check your condom supply for because you're hoping to bring him home kind of date

[raphael] he's not celibate. That has never gotten in the way of waffles either

[cat] he asked me for advice on what to wear

[cat] because he was nervous about *meeting a boy*

[ragnor] oh

[raphael] you live in scrubs

[raphael] you don't even know the difference between gucci and tom ford

[raphael] I think I'm offended

[cat] he needed someone to hold his hand not insult his shoes

[raphael] Magnus has excellent taste in footwear, I have never once insulted his shoes

[ragnor] well. There was that one time...

[raphael] that does not count.

[cat] and is not the point

[ragnor] Magnus is never worried about how he presents himself

[cat] unless he's already invested, yes

[raphael] you said he was meeting him though? If he didn't know him, how is he already in trouble?

[cat] it's that email thing

[raphael] oh. He's been grinning at his phone like a lunatic all week over that.

[ragnor] what email thing?

[cat] your email thing actually

[cat] something about sending you a note and it got misrouted, and then they were talking about spy movies and the boy's ridiculous family

[cat] his date involved a surreal number of siblings, too

[raphae] on a first date? That's. Something.

[cat] exactly

[cat] it didn't make much sense, even for a Magnus adventure

[cat] it apparently started with a lost book?

[ragnor] a book?

[ragnor] a book!

[ragnor] That explains why I got a different Marlowe back without any explanation.

[ragnor] email though?

[ragnor] oh.

[ragnor] Magnus went on a date with Alec Lightwood?

[ragnor] well

[ragnor] that's interesting

[raphael] I have no idea what just happened

[cat] me neither

[raphael] how did any of that make sense, Ragnor?

[cat] who is Alec Lightwood?

[ragnor] we can ask Magnus all about it at brunch

[ragnor] and if Mr. Lightwood's still there you'll see what I mean.

[cat] you think he will be? Maybe we shouldn't go if...

[raphael] I think that's an excellent reason to go

[raphael] think about the last time Magnus got invested

[ragnor] I don't believe we have to worry about that.

[raphael] why not?

[cat] you're usually more worried about Magnus than anyone, even if you don't say anything

[ragnor] I don't think I want to spoil it.

#shadowhunters #malec #malec fic #epistolary fic #jilly writes #my sh fic #i am for you #almost everyone except the boys themselves #because I am HILARIOUS #or something

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pocket-anon · 7 years

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The Long Way Home (8/10)

A thousand and one apologies again for being so late to post today. I know some of you may have been waiting up for this as you so kindly did for last week’s update, and I am incredibly sorry that I couldn’t get this out sooner. I’m working one of my 84-hour weeks right now, so real life has been busy, and I also decided to run through this chapter for the fiftieth time, which took forever because my brain is mush and apparently also very hard to satisfy today where words are concerned. But it’s very late now, and I’m finally sliding this out there and carting myself off to bed. I hope you lovely people enjoy. Thanks, as always, for your generous support.

ADDENDUM: Special thanks to @kmomof4 for inspiring a little extra humor that got thrown into this chapter after the original posting. I’m terrible, guys - I tweak my chapters after they post all the time. But trust me, IT’S BETTER NOW.

As always, thanks to my beta, @captainstudmuffin, and to @lifeinahole27, @clockadile, and @ladyciaramiggles for their additional feedback. Additional thanks to my wonderful CSBB artists, @waiting-for-autumn and @giraffes-ride-swordfishes for providing some gorgeous artwork to accompany this fic! Links to their illustrations of certain scenes (*) will be in the text - go show them some love!

Find it on AO3. Nautical term glossary here.

Missed a chapter? Get caught up here.

Summary: After an unnaturally long life fraught with personal tragedy, Killian Jones has become known throughout the realms as the infamous Captain Hook, an opportunistic ne’er-do-well and one of the most formidable pirates to ride the waves. When he crosses paths with a mysterious young woman with no memory of who she is or how she arrived there, he recognizes the chance to claim a monetary reward that will constitute his biggest score yet. But a journey across the world to get her home leads to a series of adventures that reveal that her value lies in far more than gold and jewels. A Captain Swan Anastasia AU - sort of. (Captain Swan Enchanted Forest AU. Romance, Adventure, & Eventual Smut. Rated E.)

Warning: Brief but graphic depictions of violence, peripheral character death, and smut.

Hook stares. “Wait. What?”

“It was me,” she repeats.

“You cursed… yourself?”

“It’s a long story.” Emma scoots forward, and he moves off the bed to allow her to swing her legs over the side. She winces, her bones and muscles creaking and with dissuse. “It can wait a minute though. I need to see Alec.”

Hook tenses, a shadow of grief crossing over his face, and Emma picks up on his sudden shift in mood instantly. Dread fills her wide eyes. “What is it?”

“He’s taken a turn for the worse,” Hook says quietly. “The wound looks terrible, and he’s been feverish for a day. I told him yesterday that the leg is too far gone, but he begged to wait until we reach port to see what the surgeon thinks.” He shakes his head, his features grim. “Roberts says he started having difficulty breathing this afternoon. I don’t know if he’ll last the night.”

Emma turns ashen before she swallows hard, her jaw set with determination. “Then there’s no time.” She grabs his hand, and white smoke engulfs them once more, this time transporting them to the crew quarters. Her legs nearly give way as it clears, her feet landing on the floor for the first time in days.

“Whoa!” Hook throws his arms around her before she can sink to the floor and guides her onto the bench next to Alec’s berth. “Steady, love.”

She clings to him a moment and rewards him with a grateful smile before turning her attention to their dying friend.

Alec looks much worse than he did when Hook last looked in on him earlier this morning – he’s pale and damp with sweat, his breathing is labored, and he appears a little delirious, his forehead wrinkling and his eyes slightly glazed over as he blinks up at them in confusion. “Milady?” he wheezes.

Emma reaches forward and layers one of her hands over his. “Yes, I’m here,” she answers with a strained smile. “It’s going to be alright. Do you trust me?”

The way the muscles in his neck tense with every breath makes it difficult to discern his nod, but he grunts. “Y-yes.”

“Good.” She positions her free hand a few inches over his heart, and the men watch her bow her head as though drawing on something from deep within. Brilliant light suddenly bursts forth from the center of her palm. Alec’s eyes grow huge, and he whimpers as the beam widens into concentric golden rings that shimmer and pulse and appear to absorb into his chest. His whole body shudders, but despite a few initial gasps and gulps, his breathing slowly eases. The muscles in Emma’s face twist tighter still, her hand now quaking with effort as she gradually pulls the light down his torso to give his leg the same treatment. A few long moments later, the magic vanishes and she slumps forward, visibly spent.

Hook drops onto the seat next to her and bears her up, draping his arms around her shoulders. “I’ve got you.” He cradles her to his chest and turns his head to watch, amazed, as Alec pushes himself up to a sitting position with clear eyes and a rosy undertone to his skin that hasn’t been there in weeks. “Alright, mate?”

The young man rubs a hand across his breastbone in awe and leans forward to throw off his blanket and untie the bandage. His jaw drops when the linen falls away to reveal his leg completely healed without so much as a scar to hint at the original injury. “Bloody hell!” He gapes at Emma. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

Emma chuffs with a tired smile. “Neither did I until a few minutes ago.”

Hook gives her shoulders a squeeze. “Come, love. Perhaps some food and more rest are in order.” He tries to help her to her feet, but her legs remain unsure, and at her first wobble, he patiently bends and hoists her into his arms.

“Go tell Smee to change our heading. We resume course for Misthaven now,“ he informs Alec. “Roberts can help you find a spare pair of trousers. I expect you back on duty tomorrow.”

The young man nods eagerly. “Yessir. And thank you, milady,” he tells Emma, his voice heavy with emotion. “This is a debt I can never repay.”

Emma’s tired eyes twinkle as she winds her arms around the Captain’s neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Hook gives his crewman a solemn smile and carries her out the door.

Though it’s a little awkward toting Emma down the narrow corridor, he savors the sensation of having her arms wrapped around his neck and the warmth of her body nestled against him. She’s a gift from the gods, this woman, and he simply can’t reconcile the inequity of the fact that she’s his. Precious cargo. That’s what he’d once called her. Hook smiles wryly as he bears her back to his quarters. If only he’d known the truth of it then.

Emma lets out a sigh when he deposits her back upon his berth, her fingertips grazing his neck as they pull away. He shivers, sorely tempted for a moment to follow her into the bed and ravage her with kisses, but as much as he wants to realize the fantasies that have kept him company the last few weeks, one look at her weary expression reminds him that this is not an ideal time for either of them to address that aspect of their relationship. And there are more pressing matters.

He props her back up on the pillows and fetches her more wine and his dinner plate. “Are you alright?”

She fixes him with another thankful smile and nods, raising the drink to her lips. “I’m fine. Healing just takes a lot out of me.”

“You’ve done it before?” He resumes his position on the edge of the bed.

Emma hums. “Only a few times. Not many people know I can, and we try to reserve it for times of urgent need.” She sighs and reaches for a piece of hard tack. “I’m just glad I remembered that I could do it before it was too late.”

Hook leans forward and kisses her forehead. “As am I.” He grins, helping himself to some of the food as well. “Now. If you feel up to it, tell me your story.”

Emma nibbles while she considers how to begin. “I was kidnapped in January, a few weeks after the winter solstice,” she says finally. She hesitates and eyes him nervously. “By the Dark One.”

The Crocodile. Bloody hell. Anger darkens his face, and he nearly forgets to swallow the food in his mouth. “What?”

She cringes the tiniest bit at the hardness of his tone. “There’s… there’s a dagger. His power is tied to it.”

Hook nods gravely. “Aye. I’ve heard of it,” he replies. “They say it’s the only thing that can kill him.”

Emma studies his face thoughtfully. “Yes, well, what’s less well-known is that it was once part of a larger blade.” She wets her lips. “The sword, Excalibur.”

“The King’s Steel?” He frowns.

She bobs her head again, absently finishing the rest of her biscuit. “Excalibur was forged to cut immortal ties. Reuniting the dagger with the rest of the sword – making it whole again – restores its power to kill immortal beings.”

His eyes widen. “Like the Dark One.”

“Y-yes,” she acquiesces slowly. “But also the fairies.” She sighs. “The Dark Ones have been at odds with the fairies for millennia. This Dark One wants to use the sword to wipe them out.”

His eyes narrow in confusion. “But what do you have to do with any of this?”

Emma snorts. “He needed my help.” She takes another sip and offers him what remains of the wine. “Only one of the rightful rulers of a kingdom can pull Excalibur from its stone,” she explains. “And the only way to re-forge the blade is with a Promethean flame.”

“A what?”

“A fire lit from the last spark of the fire Prometheus stole from the gods. The Dark One has the spark, but only someone with light magic can ignite the flame and use it.”

“So you suited his purposes perfectly.” Hook scowls, draining the glass and setting it aside.

She hums the affirmative. “He ambushed me when I was out riding – took me right off my horse, I think. I woke up a prisoner in his castle. He treated me well enough.” She arcs an eyebrow wryly. “You know, except for the part where he threatened to hurt my parents if I didn’t help him.” A glance at Hook causes her to slide her hand into his as though she can see the way his blood is threatening to boil, and she continues hastily. “Anyway, getting Excalibur was quick work,” she says, clearing her throat, “and I needed more time to come up with a plan, so I pretended to have trouble lighting the flame.” Hook smirks, slightly consoled, and she gives him a half-hearted grin. “There wasn’t much to work with, but he did have a potion for a memory curse brewing at the time. I waited until it was ready before I lit the flame, and when he forced me to reforge the sword, I magicked it somewhere he’d never find it and then took the potion to wipe my memory so I wouldn’t be able to tell him where it was.” She smiles sadly. "I didn’t want to have anything else he’d threaten my parents’ lives for.“

Pride surges through Hook’s chest at the thought of Emma outwitting the Demon, and he impulsively leans forward and gathers in her his arms. “You’re bloody brilliant, Swan,” he says, planting a fierce kiss in her hair. “Amazing.”

Emma chuffs and hugs him back with a little shake of her head. “Yeah, well, let’s not oversell it. I didn’t realize how powerful the memory curse was going to be,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “I thought I’d lose a few days or weeks, and instead I lost everything. I blacked out, and the next thing I remember is waking up in an alley in Vicarstown. I assume he sent me there, but I have no idea why.” She tenses suddenly and raises her head, her green eyes horrified. “Gods, that was almost three months ago. My parents must be worried sick.” She darts a look at the small mirror above his washstand, wiggling from his arms and moving to get out of bed yet again.

He arches an eyebrow and stands. “What are you doing now?”

“Mirror magic,” she answers simply, letting him help her up and over to the corner. Her bare feet shuffle haphazardly across the floor. “I want to see them.”

Hook’s brow furrows at the idea of her doing even more magic when she’s still so tired, but he holds his tongue and watches curiously, hand still in hers, as she focuses on the glass and sucks in a deep breath. Her eyes fall closed, a wrinkle appearing between them, and suddenly the mirror begins to glow, spilling golden light across the dim cabin. Their reflection disappears, replaced by the image of a woman standing on a castle balcony. Her coifed dark hair is streaked with a touch of gray, and her classically beautiful features are despondent as she stares out over the forest below.

Emma looks up, her expression falling as she sees the familiar face. “Mother…” she murmurs sadly, reaching out to lay her fingertips on the glass.

They continue to watch as a handsome, middle-aged man with a fine tunic and a weary countenance suddenly appears at the woman’s side and wraps his arm around her shoulders. She leans her head against him, and he presses a grieved kiss to her temple.

“Papa.” The image of the King and Queen vanish from the mirror, and Emma bites her lip and whirls, looking distraught. Her eyes lock on to the windows, and she peers out at the night sky with a distant gaze, her lips moving as though in silent prayer.

“Emma?”

She blinks out of her reverie. “When word gets out that I’ve returned home with my memories restored, my family and I will be in danger all over again,” she whispers.

He sighs and tugs on her hand, pulling her gently into his arms. “Tell me what you need.”

“You don’t have to come with me.” She shakes her head, looking forlorn as her hands fiddle with the charms that hang around his neck.

He snorts. “Like bloody hell I don’t.” He tips her chin upward and stares into her eyes resolutely. “I love you, Swan, and you’ve got a head full of memories now to prove it.” He smiles as her sad expression gives way to an awed flush. “I go where you go, and this ship is at your disposal. As is the rest of the crew, I suspect,” he adds with a chuckle.

Emma gives a quiet laugh and tips her head coquettishly. “I thought you were through serving a monarch.”

He rolls his eyes. “I serve at the pleasure of the Lady Swan,” he says, grinning and touching his lips to her forehead. “I won’t hold it against you that you turned out to be a stuffy royal.”

“Hmph.” Her dimples flash despite the anxiety that remains in her smile, and she closes the distance between them to press a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. “Thank you,” she whispers, lashes still lowered and fingers reaching up to stroke the side of his face. She exhales and tips her head forward against his. “I think we need help.”

“From whom?”

Emma cranes her neck to look away. “From her.”

Killian follows her line of sight out the window, squinting for a moment until he spies the tiny pinpoint of sapphire-colored light speeding over the darkened waves toward them. His eyes widen as it sweeps in through the open window and swells into a giant glowing ball, the light then dissipating to leave a human-sized fairy in their midst.

Emma hobbles over to her eagerly. “Blue!”

The fairy, a slight woman with big chocolate eyes, matching ringlets, iridescent wings, and a fancifully wide skirt that looks a bit like a jellyfish embraces her with a happy cry. “Emma! At last!” She hugs the Princess and then holds her out at arm’s length. “I was so relieved to hear your call just now! We’ve been worried!”

Emma nods regretfully. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Blue demands. She raises a disapproving eyebrow at Hook. “And in the company of pirates?”

Hook bristles.

Emma colors. “Blue, this is Captain Killian Jones.”

“Captain Hook,” Blue supplies flatly. “I know.”

At the fairy’s frown, Emma returns to Hook’s side and makes a show of taking his hand and clinging to his arm.

Astonishment transforms Blue’s pretty features, her mouth growing round. “Oh.” She cocks her head, as if reading the energy between the two of them, and blinks. “Really? True Love?” One eye pinches as she peers more closely at Hook, examining him up and down, and he does his best to remain stoic, his jaw clenched in defiance despite the unsettling sensation that she’s somehow weighing and measuring his very soul. At last the delicate lines on her brow fade and she gives an appeased hum. “That’s going to be an interesting conversation with your parents.”

Emma squeezes his hand. “Yeah, well, that’s the least of our problems,” she says dryly. “Blue, I was taken by the Dark One.”

The fairy’s attention snaps back to her. “What?” She watches Hook help Emma into a seat at the table. “Tell me everything.”

Emma proceeds to relay her tale again, only pausing from time to time to answer pointed questions from her friend. Blue’s lips disappear into a tight line at the first mention of Excalibur, and her eyes glimmer dangerously when she learns that she and her kind are the targets of the Dark One’s latest plot. The only break in her quiet outrage is a small smile when Emma details how she spirited the sword away and sacrificed her memories. “I’m proud of you, Emma,” she comments. “You’ve done well.”

Emma grins weakly. “But what do I do now? Can you remove the memory again?”

The fairy shakes her head apologetically. “Unfortunately, no. All memory curses stem from dark magic. I cannot create one.”

“Then we need a new plan,” Emma insists. “No one I love will be safe as long as I have what he wants.”

Hook licks his lips. “Perhaps the best strategy is to attack first then.” He leans forward on the table beside her. “You have a weapon that can kill immortal beings, love. Just end the bloody Crocodile once and for all.”

Emma’s face falls. “I… I know you’ve spent most of your life looking for a way to get your revenge against him,” she acknowledges quietly, shooting a nervous look at Blue before fixing him with a pained expression, “But I can’t do that.”

His brow crinkles with disbelief. “Why not?”

“Because murder and revenge change you,” Blue answers firmly. “They turn your heart dark. If you love her, then don’t ask that of her.”

The thought of corrupting Emma causes Hook’s stomach to feel leaden, and guilt rears its head as he remembers how upset she’d been to kill the naval captain, even in his defense. He glances at her, chastised, and swallows, his eyes falling to the table. “Then let me do it.” He turns and offers the fairy a sad half-smile. “I’m already a villain. My heart’s as dark as they come. Let me pay the price for killing the Dark One. Then Emma and her family will be safe.”

“No!” Emma protests, panic creeping into her voice.

To his surprise, Blue eyes him thoughtfully. “It’s true that your course has been far from straight, Captain,” she says at last, her features stern, “and there has been immense suffering in your wake.” Her frown lessens. “But there’s always hope for a person capable of True Love. Your heart may not be as dark as you think, especially if you’re willing to let Emma’s light guide you now.” She lifts an eyebrow in challenge. “Will you do that? Try to be the man she needs you to be?”

A lump rises in Hook’s throat, and there’s a great weight on his chest as he shares a look with Emma, her eyes emotional and slightly embarrassed. He nods and reaches for her hand.

The fairy smiles. “Good.”

Emma blinks the moisture out of her eyes and sniffles loudly, clearing her throat. “Blue, can’t I just give the sword to you?”

Blue shakes her head again. “That won’t keep the Dark One from coming after you, Emma. It’ll only leave you without the weapon you may need to defend yourself against him when he does.” She lays a hand on her shoulder with a kind smile. “Have hope. You’ve already bested him once, and you have some of the strongest light magic I have seen in a long time. Am I right in thinking you did something big several days ago?”

Emma exchanges a stunned glance with Hook. “You know about that?”

Blue looks pleased to be correct. “I felt it. All the fairies did. What happened?”

“She transported the ship out of a hurricane,” Hook says, gazing at Emma with admiration. “Saved us all by moving us bloody near 90 nautical miles and out of harm’s way.”

Blue’s eyes grow huge. “Truly?” As Hook sounds the affirmative, she looks to Emma and beams. “You’ve always had a knack for teleporting, but I’m still impressed you were able to send anything that distance, much less a ship this size, Emma. Little wonder we sensed it, even from so far away. It gave me hope we’d find you. We knew you’d gone across the sea.”

“How?” Hook asks.

Blue smiles patiently. “Her parents summoned me a few days after she’d gone missing. I used a locator charm on one of her hair combs. We tracked it for a day but lost it when it went into the ocean. We had to assume she’d gone over the water. Your parents refused to entertain any other possibilities.”

“That must be when they sent communiqués to their allies,” Hook tells Emma. “Like the one I found on that ship from Glowerhaven.”

Emma traces his knuckle with her thumb, the corner of her mouth twitching before she sighs again. “Well, we have to think of something.”

The fairy nods with a bounce of her brunette curls. “We will do everything we can,” she promises. With a wave of her wand, she takes to the air and winks back down to her normal size. “I’ll alert your parents, tell them what’s happened.”

Emma turns to Hook. “How long until we get there?” she asks him anxiously.

He inclines his head. “From here with strong winds? Perhaps a week.”

“Then we’ll see you then,” Blue says, swooping toward them in a graceful arc in order to float in front of Emma’s nose, her dragonfly-like wings flapping lazily back and forth.

“Tell my parents I love them,” Emma implores.

“I will. Be safe, Princess.” Blue darts over to give Hook one last tiny, but no-less penetrating stare. “Look after the one you love, Captain.”

Hook nods soberly, and they watch as the fairy loops out the window and off into the night.

* * *

Emma sighs with deep, penetrating weariness as Blue’s departure makes the cabin grow dimmer once more.

Still standing beside her chair, Hook hums and tugs on her hand. “Come, love. Back to bed. I daresay you’ve done enough for one evening.”

She has no words to contradict him as he helps her up and back over to the berth. “And what about you?” she asks, settling back against the pillows with a little groan. “You haven’t slept well in three days.”

He chuckles. “Aye. Now that I know you’re alright, I think I could do with a night’s rest.”

The thought of him leaving her alone in his cabin in order to go sling up a hammock somewhere else makes her frown, and Emma bites her lip, trying to ignore the fact that her parents would most certainly not approve of what she wants to say. “Would you…” She swallows. “Would you stay here with me? To sleep,” she adds, feeling the warmth creep into her face.

Hook ducks his head and scratches behind his ear, trying to wipe the foolish smile off his face. “I suppose I could manage that,” he says, his tone causing her heart to skip a beat. Despite the signs of fatigue around them, his blue eyes gleam with mischief when he glances back up. “I serve at the pleasure of the Lady Swan.”

She blushes even harder and rolls her eyes, scooting over to turn down the lamp above the bed while he pads away to address the others. The room slips into deeper darkness as the flames are extinguished one by one, leaving his figure outlined only in dim moonlight.

Hook turns back toward the bed, and Emma watches, intrigued, as he absently reaches for his left arm, jerking the sleeve up to fully expose his brace and reaching for the straps that hold it in place. He catches her looking, and his hand pauses, his step slowing. Something flickers across his face, and Emma blinks as she realizes he actually looks self-conscious.

She offers him a gentle smile. “Need some help?” she asks softly, moving to kneel on the edge of the berth and beckoning with her hand. “I’m rather good with fastenings.”

Hook folds his lips together, and he hangs his head, hesitating a moment longer before coming toward her and gingerly offering her his left forearm. “It’s… It’s not the prettiest thing, love.”

Emma cradles the brace in one hand and follows his gestures to undo the two studded straps that secure it to his arm, holding her breath as she eases the leather shell off and sets it, hook and all, aside. Her fingers tentatively survey the contours of his stump and the long, shiny scar that runs across the puckered flesh, and she feels him tremble. “It’s part of you,” she murmurs. “That’s all I care about.” To make her point, she sets the arm on the curve of her hip and reaches for his neck to pull him in for a slow, quiet kiss, grinning at the sheen her gesture leaves in his eyes. “Come on.”

He smiles shyly and takes a second to hang the hook and brace from a little loop of leather tacked up behind the elaborately carved support that overhangs the foot of the bed. Then he’s back in her arms, crawling up on to the berth and plying her mouth with more grateful kisses as they lay down together beneath his blanket. His movements are quiet and unhurried – his hand gliding up her back, his lips pulling tenderly against hers – and while she sighs blissfully, it seems clear that his touch isn’t driven as much by a physical need for her right now as it is by an emotional one. There’s something revealing and intimate about this moment – strangely more intimate than if they had simply fallen in bed together in a passionate frenzy, she imagines. This is real. This is the man without the persona, without the bravado, without the preening, without all the leather and steel - without the Hook - that normally separates him from the rest of the world. This is a bone-tired man with weaknesses and self-doubt – a man who wants to be with her not just for physical pleasure, but for the comfort of his soul.

Momentarily sated, he pulls back and drops another pair of kisses on the tip of her nose and then her forehead, his beard tickling her skin while his arm encourages her to snuggle into his side. Emma tucks her cheek into the hollow just below his shoulder and inhales deeply, savoring the smell and feel of being surrounded by him, and despite now being aware of the danger that awaits her at home, it occurs to her that, for the first time since before she was kidnapped, she feels really and truly safe. She strokes the space over his heart and lets her hand drift over his left arm, running her palm down his bicep until her thumb rests in the crook of his elbow. A smile finds her lips as he noses her hair and plants one last kiss on the top of her head. “Good night, Killian Jones.”

He rumbles against her, his voice thick. “Good night, my princess.”

In the warmth of his embrace, sleep claims her almost immediately, and the night passes in a dreamless blink of an eye.

Emma awakens the following morning to the indirect glow of the early sun filtering through the cabin and the crisp dawn air whistling through the still-open pane above their heads. The intense heat of the tropics is thankfully behind them, and the weather grows cooler as they sail further and further north. A particularly stiff breeze whooshes through, and even clothed and burrowed next to Hook – Killian – under the blanket, she can’t help the shiver that ripples across her skin.

He beneath her, shifting groggily and pulling her closer, and she smiles to herself at the notion of being cuddled by a pirate of his intimidating reputation. Her eyes meander over his face to study his neutral features – the dark locks draped boyishly over his forehead, the normally expressive eyebrows, the thick lashes, the high cheekbones, the healing cut, and the soft lips framed by his beard.

Formidable and extremely complicated, to be sure, but he’s got himself an honorable streak that would surprise you.

She chuffs inwardly as Maggie’s words resurface in her mind. The woman did have a talent for judging character. Emma reaches upward to deftly brush the hair away from his face. She loves him. She can’t deny it now. She’s spent her whole life hearing about True Love and dreaming of the day she would find a man who loves her the way her father loves her mother, and now she’s found him. But how is she going to explain him to her parents? To the kingdom? She doesn’t know whether to bless or curse the Fates for throwing her together with Killian Jones, she thinks, dragging her fingers softly from his hairline to his temple and down along his jaw. Because, gods above, she doesn’t know how to keep him, but she has no intention of letting him go.

Another cold gust needles her, and she winces again, flicking a glare in the direction of the window and raising her arm for a moment to magic it shut with a little twist of her hand. The vehemence of her command causes the window to close a little more forcefully than she intends, and the resulting thud jolts Killian awake, his arm reflexively tightening around her torso and his breath seizing in his chest while his sleepy eyes fly open.

“Wha—?”

“Sorry! Sorry.” Emma grimaces and lays her hand back on his chest soothingly. “That was me.” She watches with amusement as pleasant confusion settles over his features. “I closed the window,” she explains apologetically. “It was cold.”

He glances at the distance between her and the window and frowns. “How did you…”

She raises her hand a few inches off his chest and waves it in a half-hearted flourish.

The lines disappear from his brow as recognition lights his face. “Ah. A little early morning magic, I see.”

Emma nods. “Sorry. It was lazy. I didn’t feel like getting up.”

A shiver of an entirely different nature zips down her back when Killian hums happily against her and brushes his lips across her crown. “I can sympathize,” he murmurs into her hair. “Did you sleep well?”

She chuckles, suddenly feeling a little shy, her fingers wandering up to trace his partly-exposed collarbone. “Mm-hmm. You?”

“Best night I’ve had in ages.” He moves a little, and Emma shimmies upward in the bed at his silent bidding so he can drop a kiss first on her forehead and then on her mouth.

His sweet little gesture of affection quickly morphs into something entirely different when she parts her lips for him and invites him to explore. Killian’s rumble of approval reverberates through his ribs, and he rolls up partway on his side and seals his mouth over hers hungrily, his tongue grazing her teeth and his breathing growing labored. She moans and does her best to keep up, suckling at his lower lip and sighing with gratification when he changes his angle and comes deeper still. Heat begins to coil in her belly as he thoroughly plunders her mouth, and suddenly all she wants to do is touch and be touched, her hands flying upward to stroke his neck on one side and bury her fingers in his hair on the other.

In her life as a royal, she’s only been kissed – really kissed – by two men. One was the scruffy stable boy she used to flirt with back when she was too young to know better, the boy who snuck kisses from her when no one else was looking and who broke her heart when he and one of the scullery maids stole some of the silver dinner service and ran away together a year later. The other was a would-be suitor from the cadre that came seeking her hand last year – an arrogant prince who’d cornered her in the gardens and managed to plant a kiss on her before she returned the favor with a fist to his nose. But none of those kisses prepared her for this – for this passionate, desperate dance of lips and tongues that Killian is leading her on now, for the rough drag of his beard over her skin, for the way her body seems to vibrate and move of its own accord in response to him, for the way she wants. She feels on fire with this man, and all she wants to do is burn brighter.

She tugs him down on top of her and swallows his low groan, feeling deliciously wanton as she enjoys being covered by the solid weight of him. Propriety and consequences be damned. The future can wait. This man is her True Love, and right now, she’s awash in the temptation to do exactly what she likes with him.

He kisses his way across her cheek and over to her ear. “What would you have of me, Swan?” he whispers, nipping at her lobe and then ducking his head to sear kisses beneath her jaw.

She pants, thrashing restlessly beneath him while her hands navigate the planes of his back beneath his half-tucked shirt. “Everything.”

He pulls back, eyebrows twitching upward, and looks down upon her with heartbreaking adoration, reaching up to thumb her chin. “Are you sure? Have you ever…?”

“No.” She shakes her head and cups his face in her hands. “But I’m sure. Do I have your heart?”

Killian nods solemnly.

“Then I want the rest, too. Please,” she breathes. “I want you.”

He lights with a brilliant smile and lunges forward again, drawing her lips into a slew of aggressive kisses that reduce her to the most primitive of thoughts. His nimble fingers make short work of the buttons on her shirt, the cotton falling open and the two of them wriggling to pull it free. It flutters unceremoniously to the boards, and he lays his hand on the swath of skin just above her hip, letting it drift over her belly as though memorizing every square inch before moving upward toward her ribs.

His fingers reach the wide strip of linen she’s been using to bind her breasts in lieu of her corset, and he pauses. “May I?”

Any nervousness she feels at being revealed to a man for the first time is assuaged by the worshipful way he gazes at her, and she nods wordlessly, reaching for the flat knot at her side and tugging it loose. Emma bites her lip as Killian pulls the loops of fabric away, her heart pounding when at last they hit the floor next to her shirt.

He pauses to drink her in, lips parted in awe and eyes darkened as they rake down her bare skin. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, leaning forward to capture her lips again. His hand finds her left breast, caressing and cupping the soft flesh reverently and tweaking her nipple to a rigid peak with his thumb.

Emma whimpers softly into his mouth, gradually becoming aware of the hard outline of his arousal pressed between them, and when she arches in response to his continued ministrations, the momentary jolt of bliss she gets from grinding against him makes her gasp. Oh. She braces a foot on the mattress in order to lever her hips firmly into him again, and they groan in unison at the pressure.

“Swan,” he growls, “you’re not making it easy for a man to take his time.”

She rolls her hips upward again in reply and grins wickedly at the even more choked noise it pulls from him.

“Minx.” He grants her one more dizzying kiss before determinedly pulling away to refocus his attention on her breasts, exploring her curves with his mouth while sparks dance across her skin and the warmth between her legs grows more intense.

Killian blindly looses the buttons on her trousers, and his hand slips delicately beneath the waistband, calluses brushing down over her mound in search of her most sensitive places. She gives a little gasp when his questing fingertips finally glide through her folds. “Bloody hell. You’re so wet,” he rasps appreciatively. He grazes that spot that makes her see stars, and his parted lips smile against her when she keens, his tongue still swirling across her pebbled skin and his warm breath doing little to tame her shivers. “Good?” he asks, amused. His fingers find her nub again and begin a slow, steady rhythm that causes waves of pleasure to wash over her and her heart rate to accelerate exponentially.

Emma moans in reply, her lower lip between her teeth. She’s touched herself before, of course, but those curious, hesitant experiences late at night in the privacy of her bedchamber pale in comparison to the sensations coursing through her from the perfect combination of friction and pressure he’s somehow generating now in the slick between her legs.

Killian strokes her a few exquisite moments longer, and her breath begins to stutter uncontrollably. Then his hand slows. Emma whines with frustration.

“Steady, love,” he laughs quietly, the knowing smile more than obvious in his voice. “All good things.” He pushes off her a bit in order to slip further down her torso, the top of his dark head bobbing back and forth as he kisses a wandering line across her stomach, his mouth hot and his chains cold as they drag across her flesh. His hand withdraws from her trousers, fingertips folding over the waistband in question. Emma lifts her hips off the bed and helps him pull, the last of her clothing landing on the floor somewhere behind him with a muffled thump. A guttural moan escapes him as he appreciates her completely nude form, his hand wrapping around the flare of her hip bone and his neck craning downward to resume his path of kisses just below her navel.

Her fingers card anxiously through his hair as she watches him descend, scarcely able to believe he wants to do what he’s doing until his nose dips out of sight and he licks a gentle stripe along her opening. A little cry rips from Emma’s throat, and he groans at the taste of her.

“Bloody hell,” he breathes, pressing forward with his mouth again.

She writhes under his heavenly torment. “Killian…” she pants. “Oh, gods…” Her eyes clamp shut as he laps and suckles and pushes her back to the brink, every coherent thought gone from her mind except, More… more… more.

He closes his lips around her sex in the most intimate of kisses and hums, the vibration shooting straight to the base of her spine, and she gives a muffled shriek and clenches her fist in his hair to urge him on. Her sudden roughness causes him to grunt enthusiastically, and he redoubles his efforts, picking up the pace and tonguing her harder and faster until she’s finally overcome by blinding euphoria.

Emma bucks against him, riding her orgasm out long and hard with a weak, wrecked sob. Never in her life has she ever even imagined anything close to this, this pure, unadulterated pleasure – warmth and love and hedonism all wrapped into one all-encompassing tidal wave that makes her happy to drown. And when at last she begins to come down, she falls back against the pillows, her heart thundering like an unforgiving drum and every inch of her buzzing pleasantly. Her chest heaves, and her legs quiver on either side of his shoulders, and Killian chuckles and swipes the moisture from his beard on the inside of her thigh before crawling back up.

He scatters a few more kisses across her skin as he goes, finally nipping playfully at the corner of her mouth, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I daresay you enjoyed that, love.”

Smug bastard. She chuckles, her dimples appearing as she savors her tang on his lips and the molten sensation of her afterglow. "Yes. Thank you, Captain Obvious."

Killian laughs richly at her retort, eyes dancing. He cups the side of her face and thumbs her cheek. “Ready for more?”

“Mmm.” She kisses him again. “I think so.” He pulls the chains from around his neck and deposits them on the shelf, and she helps him remove his shirt, thoroughly enamored with the sight of him stripped the waist even as she recalls what she’s heard about coupling from her handmaids. Her brow wrinkles. “Will it hurt?”

He hesitates, his expression turning somber. “It may at first,” he admits. “We don’t have to–”

“No.” She cradles his head in her hands. “No, I want this. I trust you.”

To her surprise, his eyes grow wet, the steel blue shimmering like the ocean. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, nosing her cheek and fusing his lips to hers with a sharp intake of air.

They fall silent for a bit, the only sounds between them the whispers of skin on skin and the rustle of the sheets beneath them. His hand moves back down between her legs and begins to pleasure her once more, the swollen flesh still slippery and sensitive to his touch. Emma arches her back, wrapping her arms around his neck and smoothing her hands over the spot between his shoulder blades. She gasps when he probes her opening, and he presses slowly inward until it his finger is seated up to the ring, gently working back and forth and curling it against her walls.

“Alright?” he murmurs.

She nods eagerly, relishing the strange feel of him inside her.

She feels him introduce a second finger, his hand increasingly hesitant as he works to stretch her further and further, pausing at every hint of discomfort in order to let her adjust before proceeding again.

At last he seems satisfied. “Ready?”

“Please.” Emma blinks up at him ardently.

He flashes her a smile and pulls away to remove his pants, sighing with relief when his rigid length is finally released from the constraints of the heavy leather. It bobs against her leg as he climbs back aboard, bracing himself on his forearms. “Hold tight, love.”

He guides himself to her entrance and pushes forward in increments, groaning as she envelops him bit by bit until he’s buried to the hilt. “Oh, Swan…” He brushes a lock of hair from her forehead and gazes down at her, panting rapturously. “Emma…”

“I’m okay,” she hisses, despite the mild discomfort. He feels enormous, filling her and pressing against places she didn’t know she had, but the look on his face – helpless and wondering and so in love – makes her think she would do this a thousand times if it made him happy.

Killian snakes his hand back down between them and slips back to the apex of her thighs to rub her in firm circles, and she does her best focus on the work of his fingers, gradually relaxing as the pleasure seeps into her blood once more.

He watches her expression intently, his face hopeful. “Better?” When she nods, he grins and kisses her hot and sweet. “I love you,” he murmurs, nuzzling her forehead. “Stay with me.”

He begins to move, his face becoming a mask of concentration as he works his way from shallow movements to deeper and deeper thrusts. He grunts and shifts above her to change his angle, and Emma shudders at the new pressure it creates low in her belly and the way he drags along her folds.

“There!” she tells him, her breath hitching in her throat. “There…” She tilts her hips up a bit, and Killian picks up speed, sweat glistening on his forehead and his eyes clenched shut as he begins to lose himself in her.

They chase their release together, her whines growing more and more strained, and when she finally falls again with a cry, he’s right behind her, stifling a roar in the side of her neck as he comes. His hips slow, their movement becoming more erratic with fatigue, until at last he moans and slumps against her.

Emma clutches him to her as they catch their breath and gently cards her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “I love you,” she whispers.

Killian sighs, his arms tightening around her. “Heaven knows why,” he mutters.

She turns her head to place a kiss in his hair. “Because even after all these years, you’re still capable of good things.” Her fingers dance across his back soothingly.

He hums. “Good things,” he echoes soberly.

“You were a hero to all those slaves,” she offers.

Killian chuffs. “I’m hardly a hero.”

Emma frowns into the side of his head before she turns her eyes upward to search the ceiling. “Why did you do it?” she asks at last. “Agree to go after the slavers, I mean.”

He pushes himself up a little to look at her, brow creased in thought, and rolls to settle beside her, his right arm encircling her when she wraps herself around his side. “I wanted to be a better man for you, I suppose,” he answers, shifting them a bit atop the pillow before she lays her head on his chest.

She bites her lip at his confession, tipping her head forward and curling a hair closer.

“And then…”

She looks up at him curiously. “Then?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, his thumb stroking her shoulder restlessly. “I told you that my father left me and my brother in the service of a ship’s captain,” he starts slowly. “What I didn’t tell you is that he sold us to him and we spent the next six years as slaves.”

Emma’s breath catches, and she looks up at him wide-eyed.

Killian nods slowly. “We eventually escaped and were given positions in the navy, though the credit for that goes entirely to my brother, and I regret to say I was more burden than help to him back then.” He swallows thickly. “Anyway, being on that slave ship brought back memories I thought I’d purged a long time ago.” He blinks. “There was a boy there who was about the same age we were, and when I saw him, I…” He licks his lips and stares helplessly at beams above, eyes darting back and forth until at last his chest rises and falls with a heavy sigh. “Suffice it to say it felt good to free them. You were right, love – it was the right thing to do,” he says, his voice growing softer as he places a kiss on her temple.

Her hand slides up to lay over his heart. “I don’t know. Sounds to me like you earned a mark in the hero column,” she muses, enjoying the steady beat beneath her fingertips.

“I hope so.” He sounds unconvinced.

Emma reaches for his face and rubs his jaw affectionately. “Trust me.”

Killian’s strong arm contracts around her, pulling her up until they’re nose-to-nose. His eyes shine with emotion, and his lashes flutter closed as he leans forward to capture her lips once more. “With my life.” (*)

Thanks for reading! Ready for the next chapter? Click here!

#csbb #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan #captain wench #captain duckling #cs ef au #cs anastasia au #cs au #cs au ff #ouat ff #ouat fanfic #my writing #the long way home #cs smut

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galewritesfanfiction · 6 years

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Stay With Me (Because You’re All I Need)

Fandom: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare

Relationship: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Jace Wayland, Isabelle Lightwood, Clary Fray, Max Lightwood (mentioned), Maryse Lightwood

Alec walked through the rain, lost in his thoughts, with no destination in mind. He was only mildly surprised when he looked up to see that he had managed to end up at Magnus' loft. His distressed brain took him to the place he felt safest. He walked up the stairs and knocked on the door.

“Who dares disturb the High Warlock of Brooklyn!”

“Mags, it's Alec,” he said with a sigh.

The door creaked open, and Alec walked in, hanging his wet coat on the coat rack and skipping off his shoes. He looked around for his sparkly warlock, eyes stopping when he saw him on the couch.

“Hello, Alexander,” said Magnus, “What brings you here today?”

“I don't really know,” said Alec.

Magnus patted the spot next to him on the couch, prompting Alec to sit down. He sat on the couch and pulled his legs to his chest, resting his forehead on them.

“Alec?” said Magnus, moving closer to his boyfriend, concerned, “What's wrong, Alexander?”

“It's all my fault,” mumbled Alec.

“What's your fault, Alec?” Magnus gently asked, resting a hand on the shadowhunter’s shoulder.

“I was supposed to protect him. He died because of me,” said Alec, his voice filled with grief.

It suddenly clicked in Magnus' brain. Alec thought it was his fault that Max was dead. “Alexander, is this about Max?” he asked, earning a small nod in response. “Oh, Alec,” he said, standing up and tugging the blue-eyed boy with him.

They walked to Magnus’ bedroom, and the warlock gently pushed Alec onto the bed. He went to the other side and sat down, pulling the taller man into a tight hug. Alec laid his head on Magnus’ shoulder, leaning back into his chest.

“I should have kept h-him safe. I-I…” stuttered Alec.

“Hush, Alec you couldn't have stopped this. I'm sorry. I love you, don't do this to yourself, Alexander,” said Magnus.

At that, a few tears rolled down Alec's cheeks. “You don't always have to be strong, Alec. Let it out. You're safe here, I'll protect you,” whispered Magnus.

Alec moved so his face was buried in Magnus' shirt, curling into his lap. Magnus adjusted his grip, tightening his hold. Magnus looked down and placed a gentle kiss on the shadowhunter's beautiful black hair. Alec began to cry, unable to hold it back anymore.

“There you go,” said Magnus, “You can’t bottle everything up, Alec. Just let it out.” And so Alec did, and just kept crying. Crying for Max, for Jace and Izzy’s grief, for the hatred of his parents. He eventually stopped crying. Then he couldn't breathe.

Everything was blurry, the voices of his parent were telling him he was a disappointment, saying Max’s death was on him. That he could have done better. Panicking, he began to grab at his shirt, trying to figure out why he couldn't breathe.

“Can't breathe,” he managed to say, and Magnus looked down at him, scared for Alec but refusing to let it show.

He pulled Alec down so that they were both lying on their sides, facing each other. He grabbed one of Alec's hands, setting it over his heart. He used his other arm to pull Alec closer, keeping him in a tight hug.

“Alec, try and match your breaths to mine. You can do it,” said Magnus. Alec breathed in, his breath hitching in a way that would have made Magnus smirk in any other situation.

“Good, good. You're okay. You're fine, Alec.”

Eventually, Alec’s breathing went back to normal and Magnus wrapped his other arm around Alec, who buried his face in the warlock’s shirt. They stayed like that, Alec in Magnus’ arms until both men were asleep.

The next morning, Magnus awoke to a frantic knocking on the door. Untangling himself from Alec, he got up and opened the door, revealing Clary.

“Please tell me Alec is here. He's not at the institute and Isabelle and Jace don't know where he is either,” she said.

He's here. Calm down, biscuit. He got here last night,” Magnus said with a yawn, still tired.

Once Clary left, he went back to his bed, wanting to talk to Alec about what happened last night. When he walked into his room, Alec was already awake.

“Izzy or Jace?” he asked, yawning.

“Actually, it was Clary,” said Magnus, “She was worried because nobody could find you.”

“Of course. I forgot to tell them when I went for a walk,” said Alec.

Magnus sat on the bed, snapping his fingers, making coffee appear on the nightstand. When Alec glared at him, he snapped his fingers again and sighed.

“There, I paid for it.”

Alec smiled at him and picked up the two cups of coffee. He handed one to Magnus, who happily drank it. When they were finished with their coffee and much more alert, they moved to the living room, Alec sitting down on the couch and Magnus going to get food out of his fridge.

Magnus walked back into the room and sat on the couch, holding two stacks of pancakes. They happily ate and then Magnus turned to Alec, wanting to ask him something.

“Why are you so convinced it's all your fault?” Magnus suddenly asked. Alec sighed, leaned up against Magnus, who in turn wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“It’s my parents,” Alec said, “They think it's my fault. On top of them thinking that it's my fault, they're also still angry about us kissing in front of everyone. They seem to enjoy blaming me for everything these days.”

“Well, they're wrong, it isn't your fault. Also, we are going to sort this out. They have no right to be upset about our relationship, Alexander,” said Magnus.

Magnus stood up, holding out his hand, tugging Alec up with him when he grabbed it. They walked to the door when Alec stopped.

“Where are we going?” he asked, confused.

“I am going to talk to Maryse and Robert,” said Magnus, his voice hinting at his anger.

Alec grabbed Magnus’ shoulder, “No, Magnus,” he said.

Magnus spun around, eyes flashing to those of a cat and blue electricity sparked from his fingers. “Yes, Alexander. We will go,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

“Magnus, at least calm down a bit, please,” said Alec.

Magnus' eyes softened, and he restored the glamor. He moved his hands to Alec's neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Magnus pulled away after a bit, tugging Alec into a hug. “We’ll be fine, Alexander,” he whispered into Alec's ear as he let go. “Come on.”

Magnus threaded his fingers through Alec's, tugging him out the door. They walked to the institute, ignoring the looks they got from people. As they walked up to the door of the Institute, Alec hesitated. Magnus reassuringly squeezed his hand and he moved to stand next to his boyfriend. Alec opened the door and Magnus followed him into the Institute.

They were greeted by Isabelle and Clary, who both hugged Alec and Magnus.

“I'm glad you're here,” Izzy began, “but I'm not sure it's going to go over very well with Robert or Maryse.”

“That's kinda the point, Isabelle,” responded Magnus with a smirk.

“I tried to stop him, he's angry. I'm just going to stay out of his way,” commented Alec.

“I’m going to kill your parents now,” stated Magnus, “I suggest that you stay out of the way.”

Magnus walked towards the common room of the institute, Alec on his heels. Maryse and Robert looked up as he walked into the room, pushing Alec slightly behind him. Magnus crossed his arms, glaring at them.

“Why are you here, warlock?” said Maryse angrily, standing up.

“Alec, make him leave.”

“I don’t control him,” said Alec angrily, “He’s the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he can very well do whatever he wants.”

“Why do you think that it's Alec’s fault that Max died?” he said, his voice deathly calm.

“It was his fault,” said Maryse, causing Alex to flinch. Magnus pushed him even more behind him, wrapping Alec’s arms around his waist.

“It wasn't his fault!” yelled Magnus, and Alec rested his chin on Magnus’ head.

“Mags, calm down,” murmured Alec.

“I can't, she's got no right to blame you for this!” he yelled.

“Magnus, yelling isn't going to help anything,” Alec said softly. Magnus let out a long breath and leaned back into Alec’s embrace, taking a few deep breaths.

“See? You can control him, Alec,” said Maryse. At that, something in Alec snapped.

Magnus felt the change, and softly said, “Alec, don't do something that you regret.”

“I won't, I should have done this a long time ago,” he said, his voice full of determination. “Maryse, I forgave you for a lot of the things you've said, but you're obviously not going to change. I'm moving out of the institute. If Magnus is okay with it, I'll move in with him, and if not, I'll figure out something, but I won't live under the same roof as you any longer. Goodbye.”

Alec took Magnus’ hand in his own, and Magnus squeezed his hand, offering silent support as they walked out. As the door shut behind them, they were met with clapping. As it turns out, Izzy, Jace, and Clary had been listening to the whole conversation. Magnus let go of Alec’s hand as Jace stepped forward and pulled Alec into a hug, which he immediately returned, resting his forehead on his parabatai’s shoulder and letting out a sigh.

“I can't believe I just did that,” said Alec. Jace chuckled, and let go of Alec. Magnus grabbed his hand as they walked back to his apartment.

“You're definitely staying with me, Alexander,” said Magnus.

“Thank you,” Alec said, relieved.

When they arrived, Magnus tugged Alec over to the couch, pulling him down next to him as he sat down. Alec suddenly let out a long breath before starting to laugh. Magnus wrapped an arm around Alec’s shoulders before joining him laughing.

Once both men stopped laughing, Magnus pulled Alec closer to him so that Alec was laying his head on his shoulder.

“Thank you for everything, Magnus,” said Alec. “Your welcome. I love you, Alexander,” said Magnus, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead.

“I love you too, Magnus,” said Alec, “I love you too.”

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aaronmaurer · 4 years

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Movies I Liked in 2019

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Despite everything else going on in the world, 2019 was a pretty good year for movies! I saw a lot of things I really enjoyed (thanks AMC A-List!) and managed to avoid all of the live action Disney remakes. While it was hard to whittle down my list to a self-imposed/arbitrary 10, these stood out as efforts I can see myself returning to again and again.

10. The Public

This low-key release from writer/director/star Emilio Estevez is a deeply humanist look at systemic failures to address homelessness in American cities. During a bitterly cold winter in Cincinnati, a group of people decide to occupy a public library overnight rather than be forced onto the life-threatening streets, and media, law enforcement and politicians all attempt to shape the narrative. With a supporting cast including Michael K Williams, Jena Malone, Jeffrey Wright and Alec Baldwin, this one is worth seeking out (and has some great shots of Cincy as well).

9. Toy Story 4

Did Toy Story need a fourth entry? I wouldn’t have thought so, but leave it to the magicians at Pixar to find new ways to animate (eh? eh?) these beloved characters – and introduce some great new ones. With the additions of Tony Hale’s Forky, Keanu Reeves’ Duke Caboom and Key & Peele’s Bunny & Ducky, this is easily the funniest Toy Story to date. However, it still packs an emotional wallop as well: if you can get through Gabby Gabby’s final scene with dry eyes you may not have a heart.

8. The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part

While not nearly as successful at the box office as its predecessor, the LEGO Movie sequel is just as funny, engaging and surprisingly moving. While the real-world metanarrative is no longer a surprise, the shift from parent-child relationship to that of siblings provides ample storytelling fodder that I related to even more than the original. And for the record, this was the first major movie released this year to feature a 5-year time jump – and time travel shenanigans (looking at you, Endgame).

7. The Boy Who Harnessed The Wind

Chiwetel Ejiofor adapted this true story of a boy in Malawi who devises a way to save his village from severe famine (his writing and directorial debut). The film doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of life in under-resourced areas but also embodies hope and ingenuity that know no socioeconomic or geographic bounds.

6. A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

I’ll admit I was skeptical upon hearing Tom Hanks would be playing Mr. Rogers – he’s a great actor but doesn’t bear much of a resemblance in appearance or demeanor. However, his success in the part comes from not trying to technically imitate Rogers as much as embody his spirit of decency, sincerity and kindness. The fact that this is not a Rogers biopic, but rather a story of his impact on the life of a journalist who is wrestling with cynicism, anger and unforgiveness, also helps matters (what a year for movies based on longform journalism! See also: Richard Jewell, Dark Waters). The writers and director Marielle Heller take some interesting chances including a cheeky framing device and transitions using Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood-inspired miniatures that help make this film something {ahem} special.

5. The Current War: Director’s Cut

(Note: This film was originally set for release in 2017 and an unfinished version screened at film festivals that year to critical disdain. The Weinstein scandal mired it in development hell, but it got a second life in a new, finished version this fall as the “Director’s Cut.”)

This story of the “war of the currents,” as Thomas Edison and George Westinghouse raced to electrify America at the turn of the 20th century, snuck into theaters under-the-radar at the end of the summer but I am so glad I had the chance to see it on the big screen. Far from a conventional biopic or historical epic, there is a beautiful lyricism on display here with sweeping camera movements, innovative shot compositions, gorgeous use of light and color and a enveloping musical score. For a film that tracks multiple characters and locations for over a decade, there are moments of touching poignancy and intimacy that prevent it from becoming impersonal. I found it utterly compelling and transporting, though your mileage may vary.

4. Avengers: Endgame

It’s a rare Hollywood blockbuster that allows its characters time to grieve and process trauma, and even acknowledges the futility and emptiness of revenge. Endgame manages all that before launching into a time travel adventure and an ultimate showdown that pays off the 21 Marvel films that came before over the past 11 years. I’m sure it doesn’t make sense at all as a standalone, but for fans of these movies it was a satisfying conclusion to this era of the MCU, filled with humor and heart.

3. Little Women

I have no connection to the source material at all, having never read Louisa May Alcott’s book or seen any other screen adaptation, so I cannot compare it to anything that’s come before. I can say Greta Gerwig’s follow-up to Lady Bird is simply fantastic, with an engaging cast and beautiful cinematography that radiates warmth. I’ve read that the novel’s chronology is linear and this movie rearranges it with flashbacks, creating juxtapositions that reveal a great deal about characters, choices and the passage of time. It all leads to a somewhat meta finale that serves as a salute to the creative voice.

2. Ad Astra

As with the likes of Gravity and First Man in recent years, James Gray’s Ad Astra recognizes that traveling to our inner spaces is as transformative as venturing to the stars. Set in a near future where the moon is a rundown spaceport and Mars has been colonized, Brad Pitt plays an astronaut tasked with finding out what happened to his father’s missing mission to Neptune decades earlier. Atop a fascinating backdrop of space futurism, the film is a meditation on the loneliness and isolation of space and the meaningfulness of community and connection.

1. Knives Out

This relentlessly entertaining murder mystery from Rian Johnson (The Brothers Bloom, The Last Jedi) not only satisfies from a plot and character perspective, but delivers a level of social commentary and critique of white privilege akin to Get Out without feeling didactic about it. The cast is terrific all-around, but Daniel Craig’s starring turn as thickly drawling Detective Benoit Blanc is note-perfect, especially as he chews his way through Johnson’s hilariously meaty dialogue.

Bonus! Honorable Mentions:

Apollo 11 – Comprised of newly discovered and restored NASA footage of the first moon landing, this fresh and immediate documentary brings history to vivid life without leaning on talking heads or narration. (View alongside last year’s Neil Armstrong biopic First Man for an even richer experience.)

Spider-Man: Far From Home and Captain Marvel – two more solid additions to the MCU that are honestly probably in my Top 10, but it seemed excessive to give 3 slots to Marvel and Endgame was the clear standout. That said, Gyllenhall’s performance as Mysterio was all types of fun (see also: his gleefully unhinged turn as “Mr. Music” in Netflix’s John Mulaney & The Sack Lunch Bunch special) in the former and directors Bowden and Fleck bring warmth and humanity to a great buddy comedy in the latter.

A Hidden Life – Terrance Mallick’s best work since Tree Of Life tells the true story of a rural Austrian farmer who refuses to swear a loyalty oath to Hitler and is arrested for treason. The three-hour run time could have probably been trimmed but its thought-provoking meditations on resistance and conscience get under your skin.

Klaus – A Netflix original that presents an origin story for the legend of Santa Claus sounded a bit rote to me, but its story contains surprising emotional weight (that honestly brought me to tears a few times) and it’s gorgeously animated in a style that finds a groundbreaking medium between 2D and 3D.

#film

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hiddlesgirl · 4 years

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SH 321: Alliance

The main thing that comes to mind when I think about this episode is that it feels rushed; most of the scenes are very short and we move through events very quickly. That isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy it or that I didn’t understand why it feels that way; they were trying to resolve plot lines that that were supposed to carry over 10 whole episodes in 40 minutes. With that in mind they did a fantastic job, it is just disappointing that we could see all the potential that a fourth season could have had.

The first scene between Clary and Jace is very sweet, they are both concerned about Magnus and Alec but also you can see that Clary is haunted by the things she did while she was with Jonathan. While she was in her right mind she did things that she wouldn’t normally do and she abandoned the family she had created, she is scared that she can’t come back from that and it has irreversibly changed everything. Jace reassures her that she will be able to move past it, just like he did after the owl; he understands the feeling of guilt and responsibility in the aftermath.

Alec is at Magnus’ apartment desperately trying to find a way to bring Magnus back, it is heartbreaking to see him this desperate; he just got Magnus back and fulfilled his wish of being engaged only for them to be torn apart again. He knows that he cannot live without Magnus, he doesn’t want to, and he will stop at nothing to get him back.

Maryse is concerned about Alec, she knows how single minded he is and she doesn’t want him to neglect himself. While I understand her telling Alec to mourn I don’t agree with her saying that, especially while Alec is in an emotional state; Alec is not just going to let go of Magnus, especially not so soon after.

We find out that Magnus can’t come back because his magic is the only thing keeping the rift closed and if he were to leave Edom the rift would reopen. I am glad they cleared this up early on because I have to say up until that point I was a bit confused as to why he couldn’t just come home after closing the rift, but it makes sense that the rift caused by the Morningstar blade could not be healed only patched over.

Magnus is occupying his father’s throne in Edom and he is playing with his engagement ring, it makes me melt that he takes comfort in touching and twisting his only physical connection to Alec. Lilith shows up and I love their back and forth, their dance around each other; it was a fantastic scene from Harry and Anna.

I hate that she plays on his insecurities by saying that if his friends really cared about him they wouldn’t have let him leave; Magnus has always doubted his importance to other people, he is always the one giving them everything he can and not always getting the same in return. His feelings of self worth also come into play with this and Harry is brilliant because his expression in that moment is soul wrenching; you can see Magnus almost doubting his decision and the strength of their feelings for him and then him shaking it off because he knows that if there had been any other way then they wouldn’t have let him leave.

The little scuffle between them and Magnus’ ‘get out of my house’ was awesome, in this entire scene you could see so much potential for a dark Magnus; that he would become closed off after being in Edom for an extended period of time. Dark Magnus and Alec pulling him back from that would have been an amazing storyline to watch, I know that it could have seemed a bit repetitive because that was basically what happened with Owl Jace and Clary, then Dark Clary and Jace; but I think that Harry would have just been so awesome that it wouldn’t have felt anywhere near repetitive.

Jordan’s wake was a moving scene, now you know that I am not really a fan of Jordan’s and I’m not going to get into all that but I do believe that if he had lived than he may have been able to grow into a better person, mostly because Maia believes that. I am glad that Maia felt she got the closure she needed in order to move on and I am sorry that she and Simon lost a friend. It was a very lovely scene.

I am so happy that Maia is going to see her parents; you can see that she is really moving forward with her life and trying to get closure on things in her past that are weighing her down. I absolutely adore the line ‘Life is short. You can’t be afraid to open your heart to the people you care about’.

I absolutely adore everything about Sizzy’s first kiss; it is so sweet that Izzy was thinking of calling Simon and he just appears. You could see throughout the entirety of Season 3 how much they were bonding and forming that closer relationship and I am so happy that we got to see the fruition of that. I not gonna lie, I did cry a little and happy squeal a lot.

I was very surprised when Izzy burst into flames, and apparently this was supposed to be the original ending for 320. I know that we can’t know exactly how that would have played out because 320 would have been slightly different in order to get to this point but I honestly prefer 320 how it is. I know that if it had been done as originally thought it would have been great because Season 3 has been incredible, but I honestly don’t think it would have had the same emotional impact as 320 does now, ending with Magnus leaving. Those last moments with Alec breaking down absolutely broke my heart, the entire last scene was phenomenal and I don’t think that Izzy bursting into flame could have beaten that. Also, Magnus leaving might not have had such an impact if the episode had carried on for a few more scenes afterwards. So, although the Sizzy kiss is an amazing scene I don’t think it would have been a better cliff hanger than Magnus leaving for Edom.

The scene where Alec finds chameleon Lorenzo is absolutely hilarious, his confusion and the fact that Lorenzo scratched ‘help’ into the glass; I also like to think that after Catarina restored him and he left she laughed herself sick (or maybe that’s just me).

I love that we got to see a little more of Helen, and she is now proudly showing her ears, I wish we could have seen more of her and Aline and the development of their relationship. We find out that when Izzy was hit by the shrapnel her body was infused with Heavenly Fire, another big potential plotline, it’s pretty obvious that this was supposed to be the second plotline for a fourth season. I just wanna cry at the potential Season 4 should have had.

It is horrible to see Izzy has to try to come to terms with the fact that she is going to die, not only that but that touching the person she has feelings for could not only accelerate her condition but could kill him too, Emeraude was brilliant in this scene. You know that she is not going to tell them the truth of her condition, she is a very independent person but also she doesn’t want to worry everyone or take the focus away from getting Magnus back first. Right now her love for her family and friends is driving her decision; she doesn’t want them to worry about her, but also she knows that they need to get Magnus back for Alec’s sake. She loves Alec more than anyone in the world and she knows how much he loves Magnus, she knows that he cannot live without him; and that if she tells them she is dying the immediate focus would shift to healing her and she doesn’t want that. She is putting Alec, and rescuing Magnus, first so that if she does die than she can in the knowledge that Alec will have Magnus.

I love the reactions to the knowledge that Simon and Izzy had been kissing, Alec seems to accept it good willingly after a moment of confusion; Clary is beyond thrilled; and Jace is very confused and Dom’s ‘what the fuck’ face is hilarious.

Upon hearing that Lilith is amassing an army to attack Magnus Alec’s desperation goes up a notch, he cannot let Magnus face her alone and he needs to be by his side no matter what happens; this is pretty much Alec saying that if Magnus is going to die at the hands of Lilith than Alec is going to die alongside him (sobs). Then when he asks Simon to turn him because only those with demon blood can survive Hell I was shocked but also not, it’s difficult to explain. I think I was shocked that he went to that option so quickly, especially when we know how much being a Shadowhunter means to him, but at the same time I know that he would do literally anything for Magnus, and to be with Magnus. I love these two so much, actual soul mates.

The others obviously vehemently object to this, they know that becoming a vampire is a huge life changing decision and that Alec is only considering it because they don’t know of any other way to get to Magnus right now. So in this moment everyone realises just how far Alec is willing to go in order to be with Magnus again, so this in turn kick starts their own sense of desperation.

Izzy had offered to go alone because the Heavenly Fire would protect her, but was shot down; but as soon as everyone else leaves you know that she is going to find a way to Edom alone and indeed she does, asking Meliorn for help. She is now even more desperate to get Magnus back, not just because he is her friend and she loves him but because she knows that Alec would destroy himself in order to be with Magnus and she will do anything she can to prevent that. Also, I think it may be because she wants to do something good with her condition before she dies; she seems to have readily accepted her fate and seems to have made the decision to instead of becoming a ticking time bomb to take her destiny into her own hands. She would rather die rescuing Magnus than risk bursting into flame at any given moment, possibly killing people she cares about.

I think it’s hilarious that they lured Lorenzo to the Institute with a Council meeting and then played into his ego to get him to help; although he is an interesting character and his interactions with Malec are great to watch I just can’t like him. I am happy to finally see the alliance rune but disappointed that we won’t get to see Alec and Magnus use it together. I burst out laughing at Meliorn’s line ‘You’ll learn my true powers next time you take your lover to bed’.

I really liked getting to see Alec use magic (waves at all the AU warlock Alec fics) and it warmed my heart that when his emotions were effecting his magic that putting his ring back on and fiddling with it calmed him down. I really liked that both Magnus and Alec use the ring to ground them, using their only physical connection to each other as an anchor.

I love the scene between Clary and Simon, I have loved their friendship right from the first episode and I am so happy that even after everything they have been through their connection is stronger than ever. I also think that this scene may have been a bit of a love letter, or touchstone, for the fans; they are both saying that despite everything they have gone through they wouldn’t trade the Shadow World for anything and that is exactly how the fans feel about the show. No matter how much heartbreak, anger and hurt were caused we wouldn’t trade Shadowhunters for anything.

Every single moment between Jace and Meliorn in this episode has been pure gold, it is just hilarious just see Jace so flustered because he cannot lie and how much Meliorn enjoys it. I just love when Meliorn asks Jace how attractive he thinks he is, I adore this interaction so much. I think it also adds some needed laughter to the episode which is otherwise very emotionally based.

Luke has become a Shadowhunter again after Praetor Scott made him take the serum, this was not a surprise because we all saw the behind the scenes pictures of Isaiah wearing runes they tried to throw us off with ‘he just wanted to try them on before we wrapped’ but we all knew better. I am a little surprised that they didn’t have any bigger plans for the serum though, but may be they might have if we had been given a season 4, who knows.

Luke is not going to be their spy, he is not devious by nature and he is too honest to be a double agent. However, he will look out for the Downworld from inside the community because that is just who he is; he would not let the Clave make decisions that would harm the Downworld community because he knows what it is like to live as one and would not let his friends be negatively affected by the Clave if he can prevent it. The Praetor would have done much better if they had approached him as friends and allies instead of blackmailing him, because at the end of the day their goals are very similar, the well being of the Downworld being the main cause for them both.

My heart bursts when Malec reunite, you can see how surprised and relieved Magnus is that Alec is here; he never thought he would see Alec again. He thought that he would live his immortal life trapped in Edom, alone, while Alec grew old on Earth. Now he knows that, that doesn’t have to be their fate but also that Alec came all the way into Edom for him, to be with him, is overwhelming.

I was crying a little at this scene because you could just see their love for each other and their determination to be together, Alec is completely unwilling to ever be separated from Magnus again. He knows how painful it is to be without him and he refuses to let that be their future.

I love the Magnus and Biscuit reunion, we finally get that hug between them that we were robbed of in 3x13. I love their relationship so much; there are so many amazing friendships in this show.

Izzy, Jace and Meliorn find Lilith’s castle; I really love the conversation between Jace and Izzy about Simon, I am so happy that we get a real insight into how Jace feels about Simon. That he thinks he is a good man, that is a strong person and that Jace actually admires him. Even though it’s in a humorous setting I really like that we got to see this part of Jace and his true feelings about Simon, especially considering how much animosity there was when they met.

I know that this review is much shorter than my usual ones but I think I covered everything I wanted to, it’s because so many of the scenes were barely a minute or two long that you can’t really get those in depth discussions because there isn’t much to go on. I also know that I didn’t talk about the Seelie Queen and Jonathan at all but that it because I didn’t really find those scenes particularly interesting (that might not be the right word), I didn’t really have anything to say about them. Sorry.

That said, I did enjoy this episode; a bit disappointed with the rushed feel but that is understandable given the circumstances. There were some great little moments between different pairs of characters which were wonderful and I think the cast and crew did a great job in starting to wrap up loose ends so that we could have an amazing last episode that wasn’t consumed in closing up plot lines.

#Shadowhunters Review #Alliance #Shadowhunters #SH 3x21 #SH 321 #Shadowhunters 321 #SH 321 Review #SH321 #SH3x21 #SH 3x21 Review #Shadowhunters 3x21

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happyumbrellla · 7 years

Text

Malec : Chapter 3

Chapter 3 : May the Angel protect him :

When Magnus left, Alec found himself alone with the cat in the wizard’s apartment. Alexander sighed deeply before looking at his new environment. He had already come to Magnus, but he had never actually taken the time to observe. The room was dark, purple and black. There was a wardrobe containing long and short pajamas. The four poster bed was old, dark wood and the sheets were of silk… No less. The bedside tables seemed to be the same time as the bed, as were the lamps on it. And the windows overlooked a small park that looked peaceful. He put his bag on the floor and decided to explore the place, something he had never done before. To the left of the door to enter the room was another one. Alec put his fingers on the handle before pushing the door. His breath snapped into his throat as he opened his eyes wide. He had to dream, he saw only this as an explanation. In front of him stood the dressing room of Magnus Bane.

The walls were hidden by large cupboards without door letting see the incredible amount of clothes of the warlock. He sank into the corridor that formed the dressing room. He had seen a door at the opposite side of the room. The wardrobes of the dressing room were crumbling under the clothes. Shirts, T-shirts, polo shirts, tank tops, suits, jeans… In all possible fabrics, in all possible colors. And shoes… Hundreds maybe. SHould he mention the jewerly corner of the warlock ? The latter grouped his necklaces, his bracelets and his rings, all placed so as to see the whole of the jewel. No doubt to better choose which ones went best with his ourfit of the day. Arriving at the door, something attracted his attention to his right. A mahogany dressing table. Alec swallowed before opening a first drawer and he nearly choked with his saliva, why so much eye shadow ? The other drawers contained foundations, eyes-liners, glitter, nail polish, gloss and Lipsticks ? What was the warlock doing with lipstick ? The shadowhunter drew back and shook his head from left to right to regain his spirits. He didn’t want to know. Elder Lightwood opened the door opposite to the « Hell’s entrance », according to him, and quickly close dit behind him. When he opened his eyes, he was blown away by what he saw once more. By the Angel, what a bathroom ! The shower was Italian and able to accommodate 4 people. The corner bathtub by doing as much to see more and had lots of options to ensure maximum relaxation. The two sinks in front of a three-by-three-meter glass were made of beige marble, just like the entire room. Next to it was a small chest of drawers on which lay soap and a tooth-brush rack. When he opened one of the two drawers, he noticed that the chest of drawers contained towels. Large and small, all white. Then the hunter's eyes slid to the left. There was another door. She led him back into the living room, with to his left a small corridor leading to the room. To the right was a last door, Alec pushed it and fell on a large kitchen. The worktops formed an angle along the wall at the bottom and half the wall on the right. To the left on the back wall was a large fridge. And in the center of the room, an island with high stools. Of course, Magnus had the latest state-of-the-art equipment in terms of induction hob, coffee maker, toaster, microwave, oven, dishwasher. Once, however, seemed ancient; the teapot. It was a bit of a task in this modern setting but it had to be precious for Magnus to keep. The Lightwood returned to the living room and detailed it, it oscillated between the Victorian era of tapestries and some furniture, including libraries, and modern especially with the wall table to the left of the door, lamps and sofas. Magnus had to use magic to change the size of his apartment. The hideout in which they had met had been much greater than the present apartment. The double door in front of the balcony window led to Magnus's special magic room, where they had invoked the demon of memory. And at the moment it was locked. Chairman Meow was rolled into a ball on one of the sofa's cushions. He barely raised his ears when he heard Alec sigh. The young man dropped down, sighing on the sofa in the drawing-room. He was divinely mellow. He closed his eyes with happiness. Why did not he have that at the Institute ? Comfort would help them increase their combat effectiveness. He turned his head towards the coffee table in front of the giant screen on the wall. What was that? Why did Magnus have a screen like the Institute ? The shadow hunter got up and tried to pass his stele on to activate it but nothing happened :

-What is this thing ?

Chaiman Meow had pity on his guest, he jumped on the coffee table and mewed to attract Alec's attention. He looked at the animal patting the remote with the tip of his paw. This cat was far too intelligent to the taste of the shadowhunter who frowned with suspicion before approaching very slowly the black case. He watched the buttons before pressing "On". He jumped as the screen came on. A woman was talking about a new nail polish that was actually saying miracles. The Lightwood pressed on other buttons and ended up falling on a chain reserved for the worlds of shadows. It was a bit like human information but specific to their world. Even though he was not at the Institute, he could work well from the wizard's apartment. He would have liked to train but he did not have a training bag here and he could not return to the Institute since he did not have the keys to close the door of the apartment behind him.

His telephone rang :

-Izzy ?

-Are you at Magnus’s place ?

-Yes. He came to fetch me.

-Everything’s fine ?

-He left me alone for the time I set up.

-He gave you a room ?

Alec blushed :

-Euh… More or less.

-But still…

-I’m going to sleep in his room.

There was a silence :

-And he’s going to sleep with you…

-I suppose.

-It’s incredible what he can do for what he wants.

-I’m not an object, Izzy.

-I know, it’s a mere expression. Relax.

-How do you want me to relax ? I’m stuck at Magnus until he comes back and I don’t know when i twill be. I don’t have the keys so I cannot even go out and make sure the perimeter is safe… I…

-Alec !

The eldest of the Lightwood family was silent :

-Breath. Magnus will probably give you a set of keys when he returns. You don’t need to check if the perimeter is safe, Magnus had to take all the precautions of the world to conceal his apartment and protect it with magic protection. You’re in the safest place in the world I think… Efter Idris.

Alec sighed :

-You’re probably right.

He guessed his siter’s smile behind her phone :

-I would like to thank you. Once again. Without you, I would probably be exiled and deprived of my runes at the present time.

-It was Jace and Clary who saved you, not me.

And the young man thought his words. He had had the impression that he had served no purpose at all in this affair except to condemn himself and his family :

-I forbid you to think that Alec ! Magnus won my case and without this story with the cup, I would owe him my life. You are the only one who has done something to help me and for that I would be eternally grateful to you. Magnus too but, my brother first.

The young man smiled :

-Thank you Izzy.

His sister perhaps didn’t know, but she had just warmed her heart and swept away his sombre thoughts :

-How do the other take the news ?

-Jace passes his nerves on a training bag. Clary feels guilty. Lydia understands and seems… Happy with the situation. Sha said she was happy for you, that you were finally going to be happy.

Alec closed his eyes, Lydia was really a pearl, she had been ready to join her life to take the lead of the Institute at his side and to help him to restore his family’s coat of arms. And today, she let him leave without history, perfectly understanding th situation :

-Mom is still cursing Magnus and you for being « so stupid ». And dad doesn’t really know how to react. He is glad that I am safe, that you have striven for me, but he doesn’t really know what to think about Magnus's intentions. They both think he's going to use you as a sex toy to take revenge on them until he has enough and then either he'll kill you or he'll release you. But…

There was a friction and then Maryse’s voice echoed in the ears of the eldest son :

-Alexander ?

-Mom ?

-The idea that you become a sexual slave doesn’t enchant me at all but if it is that this warlock expects from you ... Be the best lover that he has ever had. Do whatever he wants to let you live.

The blood of the shadowhunter froze in terror. He had to dream. Did his mother really ask him to spread his legs for Magnus Bane ? :

-By the Angel I hate Bane, spat Maryse.

-Mom ? Are you asking me to become a… One… Well… You know what I mean ?

-I’m asking you to do whatever is necessary to keep you alive… Your father and I don’t want to lose you…

Wo, it was the first time that his mother showed such strong feelings for him and that she expressed them :

-I… Euh…

New friction noise :

-Don’t listen to what she says ! Magnus isn’t like that. He will not do anything to you without your consent.

And Izzy hung up. Probably to yell at their mother not to say that kind of stuff. But she wasn’t wrong. The contract he signed made him become the "whore" of the high warlock of Brooklyn. Yet he had read that Magnus was committed to making his happiness so it was not really becoming his whore ... So ? The young man leaned back on the sofa and took his head in both hands. He grabbed a cushion and threw it away into the room with force. It was his way of calming his nerves. Unfortunately for him, the cushion struck a pot of flowers that crashed to the ground, bursting into pieces, spreading water and flowers on the floor. Alec jumped up and bit his lower lip as he watched the disaster. He rushed to the bathroom, picked up a towel and went immediately to sponge the puddle. He glanced at the pieces of what was a pot. Magnus was about to kill him. This pottery looked old and precious ... The shadowhunter began to collect the fragments to try to re-glue them… Or to throw them :

-Aïe !

Alec had just cut himself off. He carefully removed the culprit from his finger and wound his wound to his mouth to suck blood. Thin fingers wrapped around his wrist and forced him to stop sucking his finger :

-And if you swallow small pieces of glass ?

Alec looked up at Magnus :

-I leave you about thirty minutes and when I come back, you’ve already broken something ?

-I… I’m sorry.

The warlock smiled :

-Don’t worry Alexander.

He snapped his fingers and the vase rebuilt before climbing back to his place on the table. Water poured in by itself and then flowers came out as all traces of the incident disappeared. Elder Lightwood blinked eyelids several times as he watched the sorcerer's magic take effect. But he quickly turned his attention to Magnus when the latter put a soft kiss on the wound of his guest. Blue sparks left the wizard's lips to close the flesh of the black. The latter flushed furiously at this sign of affection :

-And now you have nothing.

-… Thank you.

-You’re welcome.

Magnus released his wrist and turned his heels :

-That customer was particulary annoying, he said pulling off his jacket. I’m glad I finished this transaction.

The warlock opened the door until then closed in the living room using his magic. Alec stood up and watched the new play. It was quite large and the walls were hidden by shelves full of plants, stones, books and other strange things. There was a cauldron or something approaching in the left corner of the room. Magnus opened a box and poured the contents of a leather purse inside. Alec easily recognized the sound of coins :

-You don’t have a bank account ?

The warlock allowed himself to laugh :

-Ho dear, of course, I have accounts in banks. Full for most. But I’m from the old days, I like to have a hiding place of wealth at my fingertips.

He removed the empty purse and placed the box on the shelf. The latter disappeared slowly thanks to a spell :

-But I intend to devote some of my money to offer you a new wardrobe. You need it.

Alec arched an eyebrow :

-Pardon ?

-Don’t worry. I’ll accompany you for this mission.

-Are you going to buy me a dresser ?

Magnus laughed :

-Dresser ? Let’s be serious. I’ll offer you your own dressing room.

The shadowhunter opened his eyes wide :

-And where are you going to pu it ? You have no free rooms from what I have seen.

-I’m a warlock, do you remember ? I can model this place as I see fit.

Yes, it’s true and to support his sayings, he illuminated his hands in blue and the walls began to move :

-Here.

Magnus led them to his dressing room, the latter had been enlarged. On the left wall had been made a sinking which plunged several meters to form a square lot before resuming its normal suite until the door of the room. The new square had its own empty cupboards :

-Woha.

-As you can see, we have plenty to do.

Alec decided to push his luck, since the warlock seemed in a good mood :

-You think you could make me a training room ?

Magnus fixed the ceiling a second, reflecting :

-Why not.

The warlock returns to the living room and creates a ball of blue magic in the hollow of his palm. In no time, a space was created between the wall of the TV and that of the kitchen. A small corridor formed and a new door appeared as well as a new bay window :

-Be my guess.

Alec advanced very slowly into the new corridor before putting his hand on the handle and opening the door. He fell on a room of about thirty square meters with 3 bay windows that let in a lot of lights. He had a great view of Brooklyn. And the warlock had also created a training bag and various weight machines :

-I can’t wait to see you at work Alexander, the warlock whispered in his ear.

Alec shuddered, he was much too sensitive to Magnus’s presence and contact. May the Angel protect him.

Masterlist

#malec #malec fic #shadowhunters #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #my fic

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