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rhosyn-du · 4 years

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Title: A Wonderful Institution Artist: @bidnezz Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings Word Count: ~53k Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, discrimination against Downworlders, reference to rape, Clave-typical homophobia, implied character death, minor character death Summary: Magnus doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Warlocks are disappearing in New York City—five people in less than three months—and Magnus is determined to find them and protect the rest of his people from whatever took them. He doesn’t have time for politics, and he certainly doesn’t have time for whatever nonsense the Clave is proposing about marrying a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder as part of the new Accords. He doesn’t really have time for a pretty Shadowhunter who’s surprisingly kind to warlock children, either, but, well, he’s always been good at multitasking.

Alec always knew he couldn’t have what he wanted, but he’s spent the nearly four years since the newly-appointed Consul recalled his parents to Idris without explanation making the best of what he can have. When life suddenly offers up almost everything Alec actually wants on a silver platter, he can’t quite bring himself to trust it, especially when it comes with a million caveats and a side of impending disaster. But he knows how to handle disasters, even if the return of the Circle on top of Clave secrets that could destroy the Accords is way beyond the disasters he’s used to fielding. Hope, on the other hand? He doesn’t know what to do with that.

This fic was created for the @malecdiscordserver Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter Five

To say that Magnus was surprised to get a phone call from Alec would be an understatement, but he wasn’t about to question it when he’d been trying to think of a way to approach the man anyway. So when Alec suggested that it might be a good idea for them to meet in an informal setting, Magnus said he was free now and invited him over to the loft, grateful that he didn’t have the hangover he’d initially been expecting to have this morning, although he was still more than a little bitter about the reasons for that.

He hadn’t even gotten the information he needed from Camille, since his plans to see her had been interrupted by a call from the bouncer at Pandemonium saying that he’d spotted two Circle members at the club. He’d ejected them immediately, with what sounded like help from no few of the patrons, but Magnus went to check things out anyway. If nothing else, seeing that he took this matter seriously would reassure the Downworlders who frequented his club that he took their safety seriously.

As Magnus flipped through his closet, he mentally reviewed what he planned to say to Alexander. Circumstances had changed, but the basic plan was the same: convince Alec that political marriages in general, and this one in particular, were a terrible idea, and then somehow segue into convincing Alec to go out on a date with him immediately after convincing Alec not to marry him, and, you know, this plan was really a lot better when Magnus was convinced the Clave would never approve of Alec marrying him.

Okay. New plan. Convince Alec that he didn’t actually want to be involved in this ridiculous Accords marriage and save everything else for another day. Magnus let out a frustrated breath. It would have to do.

Addendum to the plan, he thought as his hand stopped on a favorite deep plum button-down. Look amazing while executing the plan.

By the time Alec arrived, Magnus was a bundle of nerves. He did, however, look amazing, if he said so himself. Alec seemed to agree, if the way his eyes briefly trailed over the open V of Magnus’s shirt when he opened the door were anything to go by.

“Hello, Alexander,” Magnus said.

Alec’s eyes snapped to Magnus’s face, a hint of surprise in them, as though they’d strayed southward without his knowledge or permission. It was more than a little charming, and Magnus had to remind himself why he’d invited Alec over.

“Thanks for agreeing to see me,” Alec said as Magnus led him into the loft.

“Of course,” Magnus answered. “I have to admit I’m having trouble thinking of a circumstance in which I wouldn’t want to see you,” he couldn’t help adding, and then immediately wished he could take it back. This meeting was for executing the plan, not flirting. No matter how much he liked Alec’s little almost-smile when he did.

“I was just about to mix myself a drink,” Magnus said. “Can I offer you anything?”

“Um, sure,” Alec said. “I’ll have…whatever you’re having?”

Magnus turned to his dry bar and quickly mixed up a couple of lemon drops. It wasn’t what he’d normally drink, but it should be easy enough on the palate of someone who didn’t even have a usual cocktail order.

When Magnus turned back around, Alec was still standing awkwardly in the entrance to the living room. Magnus walked over and handed him his drink.

“To us,” Magnus said, and dammit, he was just unbelievably bad at this whole not flirting with Alec thing.

Alec clinked his glass against Magnus’s and took a sip from his drink. His resulting wince had Magnus reconsidering his stance on lemon drops as a suitable drink for people who don’t normally indulge.

“Why don’t we sit down,” Magnus suggested, leading the way further into the room.

He briefly debated sitting on one end of the couch but decided that would be a bit too intimate for the conversation he wanted to have if Alec took the other end. Instead, he settled in a red velvet armchair that was a wonderful contrast to his shirt.

Alec perched on the edge of the other armchair, looking for all the world like he might bolt for the door at any minute. He took a long sip from his drink, wincing again but looking far more determined after.

“I thought it might be a good idea,” Alec began, “for us to discuss our plans and, um, expectations. For after the wedding.”

And Magnus couldn’t help himself. It was just too good an opening. “Well, I’m not planning to ravish you on our wedding night, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No! That’s not—” Alec spluttered. “I didn’t mean to— I don’t think you—”

“Unless you ask nicely, of course,” Magnus added smoothly, with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle.

The tension in Alec’s body drained away as he rolled his eyes in a way Magnus might almost have called fond.

“I meant,” Alec said, sounding genuinely at ease for the first time since he’d entered the loft, “that we should discuss our expectations for how we intend to present ourselves as a married couple and our plans for leveraging that to support the Accords and improve the relationship between Shadowhunters and Downworlders.”

Magnus froze, drink an inch from his lips. Of all the possibilities he’d been anticipating, the idea that Alexander might actually believe this marriage could be some kind of real benefit to relations between the Clave and the Downworld was not among them. He took a careful sip of his drink, letting the sour-sweetness roll over his tongue while he reassessed all of his earlier assumptions.

“To be honest, Alexander, my expectations in that regard are that we will be very lucky if the Clave's insistence on marrying two strangers together as a symbol of the integrity of the Accords doesn't result in all-out war.”

Alec frowned. “But we aren't strangers. I don't know you well, but I know that we fight well together and I—I like you, and that’s more than I can say for a lot of people. And we have the chance to do something here, something real. You're the High Warlock of Brooklyn and my parents might officially run the Institute, but I'm Acting Head and actually run it for all practical purposes. We can use those positions to our advantage and maybe really start to change things.”

It was hard not to get swept up in Alec's earnest optimism, the way his face lit up when he was speaking.

“The Clave has been paying lip service to improving relations with the Downworld for centuries,” Magnus said. “And they have proven to be nothing more substantial than so much smoke every time. Do you really believe that if you tried to use your position as Acting Head of the Institute to change the way Shadowhunters here treat Downworlders, you'd actually be allowed to keep your position?”

“I think,” Alec said carefully, “that I'm not in a position to make big changes, but even small changes can make a difference. Even just the fact that we'll be married, a Shadowhunter and a warlock, and people will see it, that could make a difference.”

“Except,” Magnus countered, “that everyone knows this is purely a political alliance. Just another clause in the Accords.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Alec snapped.

Magnus froze, unable to find words to respond to that.

Alec made a frustrated noise and rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m saying this all wrong.” He looked at Magnus, who was still unmoving and watching Alec warily. “What I mean is, I trust you.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why, but I do. And I think this could be an actual partnership, that we could make a real difference. Together. If you want.”

Magnus forced himself to relax, pushing down the stab of disappointment that Alec hadn’t actually been suggesting their political union could grow into a real marriage. It would have been a foolish and naive suggestion, anyway. But that did bring up an angle of argument Magnus might be able to use to his advantage.

“What about love?” Magnus asked, intentionally vague. He didn’t miss the way Alec’s eyes went wide at the question.

“W-what?” Alec stammered.

“I’ve lived for centuries, Alexander,” Magnus said. “I’ve fallen in love, fallen out of love, broken hearts, had my own heart broken, all countless times. You’ve been alive, what? Twenty years and change? You haven’t had those experiences, and if you go through with this marriage, chances are you never will. Or worse, you will fall in love one day, and you’ll have to choose between keeping the Accords intact and being true to your own heart.”

“You sound like my sister,” Alec told him.

“It sounds like Isabelle is a smart woman,” Magnus said with a shrug.

“What about you?” Alec challenged. “If you’ve been in love so many times, isn’t there just as much chance that you’d be the one having to make that choice?”

“No,” Magnus said. “I haven’t loved anyone in nearly a hundred years, not like that.” No need to mention that he didn’t plan on actually getting married, or that Alec himself was the only person who’d made him feel anything in all that time.

“Then maybe the Seelie Queen was right,” Alec said with a sad smile. “Marrying for love is not something that has ever been an option for me, so maybe we really are a perfect match.” He looked down at his drink. “Except for the part where you’re trying to talk me out of marrying you.”

“Alexander…” Magnus didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d hoped. He’d been too obvious in his intent, and now he’d given Alec entirely the wrong impression.

“I guess I’m not what you expected,” Alec continued. “And I get that. You’re not what I expected, either, but…but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

“Look, I know you have some kind of history with my parents,” he continued. “I don’t know what happened between you, and I don’t expect you to tell me, but if that’s what this is about—”

“No,” Magnus cut in. “Alexander, no, this isn’t about your parents. I’m a warlock. I know better than to judge a person on who their parents are. This is between you and me.”

Alec wilted, and Magnus realized that, once again, he’d said entirely the wrong thing. He wished Alec would look at him.

“I think you’re right that we could work well together,” Magnus said, searching for the right words to say what he needed to without revealing too much of himself. “But this marriage is a disaster waiting to happen, as tied up as it is in Shadow World politics. And I don’t want that to get in the way of what we could do together. What we could be.”

Alec looked up, finally, and Magnus could see wariness in his eyes. “Why didn’t you object to me when you had the chance? You and the other Downworld leaders could have rejected me. The Clave would have chosen someone else for you.”

It was all Magnus could do not to break out into hysterical laughter. Now that would have been an even bigger disaster. As much as he didn’t want to marry Alec for the sake of the Accords, it was nothing compared to how little he wanted to be married off to some other Shadowhunter. Or how little he wanted to see Alec married to someone else for the sake of politics.

Magnus realized, with a sudden, startling clarity, that somewhere along the line, he’d already unconsciously decided that if he couldn’t talk Alec out of withdrawing from this marriage, Magnus was going to go through with it.

“Trust,” Magnus answered, not quite able to control the tremor in his voice, “makes you do strange things.”

Alec studied him for a long moment, then said, “Can I ask you something?”

Magnus had a terrible suspicion that he knew what Alec was going to ask, and he wasn’t ready to explain about his split-second decision during the meeting with the Clave, so instead of letting Alec ask the question, he just started talking. After all, if Alec never asked the question and Magnus didn’t say anything actually untrue, then it wasn’t a lie and he didn’t have to feel bad about it.

“The Spiral Council impressed upon me how meaningful it would be to have someone with my position and reputation give the revised Accords their full support,” Magnus said. “As skeptical as I am that the Clave will ever truly see Downworlders as equals, it would be a disaster if the Accords fell apart.”

“That’s good to know,” Alec said, “but that’s not what I was going to ask.”

“I apologize for presuming,” Magnus said. “Ask away.”

Alec ran his tongue along his lower lip, a nervous gesture that nonetheless had Magnus’s thoughts spinning off in a direction that wasn’t at all helpful at the moment.

“Before,” Alec said, “why did you invite me for drinks?”

Magnus blinked. That wasn’t even on the list of questions he might have been expecting. “I thought that would be obvious.”

“Not to me,” Alec told him.

Magnus suddenly found his drink very interesting to look at. “I wanted to spend more time with you.”

“Why?” There was genuine confusion in Alec’s voice.

Magnus sipped his drink, considering his answer. “For nearly a century, I closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone, man or woman.” He looked up at Alec through his eyelashes. “You’ve unlocked something in me.”

Alec stared. “I don’t— Magnus, I—”

Magnus shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything. You asked a question, and I answered it. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“What about living arrangements?” Alec asked suddenly.

Magnus raised his eyebrows, mind struggling to catch up with the sudden change in topic. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“After the wedding,” Alec explained. “I can’t invite you to live at the Institute. Accords or not, I can’t imagine the Clave accepting that. But we should live together if we’re going to do this right, at least some of the time. Obviously, I’ll need to stay at the Institute sometimes, because that’s just how these things work, but. Maybe we should think about getting a place together? For appearances sake.”

“I take it my attempts to talk you out of getting married haven’t been very effective,” Magnus said dryly.

Alec shrugged. “Have you even managed to convince yourself?”

It was far too perceptive a question, and Magnus laughed despite himself. “If you decide to marry me,” Magnus said, “you can have my guest room.”

“Okay,” Alec agreed. “That seems like a reasonable choice, if you don’t mind me invading your space like that.”

“I mind it far less than I mind the thought of abandoning my loft,” Magnus told him.

Alec nodded in understanding. “I should probably go,” he said. “I’ve taken up too much of your time already.”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I minded you taking up my time,” Magnus said. “Stay for one more drink?”

Alec shook his head. “I want to. But there are things I need to take care of at the Institute, and I can’t do that if I have another drink.”

“I suppose I can’t fault you for being responsible,” Magnus said with an exaggerated sigh. “At least let me see you out.”

They moved toward the door, but Alec stopped in the entryway. “I’m not going to change my mind. My reasons for doing this might be different than yours, but they aren’t going to go away just because you have doubts about the Accords.”

“You say that now,” Magnus said, “but just wait until we get into planning this wedding. I imagine even that will be a trial with the Clave involved.”

Alec’s lips twitched in almost the semblance of a smile. “I’m less worried about the Clave than I am my sister. She takes parties very seriously.”

“As do I, Alexander,” Magnus said. “Perhaps between the two of us, Isabelle and I are a match for the Clave.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Alec told him. And then, more softly, “And if you and Iz make that great a team, imagine what you and I can do.”

Magnus found he didn’t have an answer to that.

When Alec returned to the Institute, half-anxious and half-giddy from his talk with Magnus, Jace was waiting for him.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “Don’t tell me that little redheaded mundane you picked up is making trouble.”

“Clary’s still asleep,” Jace told him, “and you know I had no choice but to bring her back here. She’s nephilim, Alec, even if she’s not a Shadowhunter. She wouldn’t be able to bear a rune otherwise.”

“So you’ve said,” Alec said. “If it’s not the mundie, then what’s wrong?”

“Maybe nothing,” Jace said. “Maryse and Robert left word that they wanted to speak with you in the office as soon as you got back.”

“They say why?” He was in no way prepared for a rehash of the conversation they’d already had about his impending nuptials.

Jace shook his head. “Just that they’re being recalled to Alicante, and they need to speak with you before they leave.”

Alec felt only a little bad at his relief that he would finally have his Institute back. He missed his parents when they were away, but he didn’t miss the way they treated him like he was still a child when they were here.

The door to his office was closed when he arrived, so Alec knocked, even as he felt a stab of irritation at needing to. Just one more conversation, he reminded himself, and they’d be out of his hair.

Robert opened the door, a faint frown on his face that had Alec immediately on edge.

“Come in, son,” he said.

Alec was further discomfited when he found his mother seated on one of the armchairs in the middle of the room and his father moved to join her there. Normally, one of them would be sitting behind the desk.

“Jace said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes,” Maryse said. “Have a seat, Alec.”

Alec took one of the remaining seats, facing his parents. “If this about the wedding—” he began.

“It’s not,” Robert interrupted. “At least, not directly, although I suspect that had something to do with the Council’s decision.”

The wariness in Alec’s belly had jumped up to full alarm by this point. “What decision?”

“They’re officially making you Head of the Institute,” Maryse said matter-of-factly.

“They’re—” Alec blinked. “After all this time? Why? Not that I’m complaining,” he hastened to add, “but what about you and Dad?”

“I've been offered a position teaching at the Academy,” Robert said. “One that I’ve decided to accept.”

“And Mom?”

“I already have a job in Alicante,” Maryse said.

“Right,” Alec said. “The secret job you've been pretending not to have for years.”

Maryse sighed. “Things are different now. I wish they weren’t, but with you as Head of the Institute and some things that have recently come to light, we can’t keep you safe from this any longer.”

“Keep me safe?” Alec didn’t know whether to be astonished or angry. “You left. And I was an adult when you did, but Jace and Izzy weren’t. You don’t keep your children safe by abandoning them.”

“It was the only way,” Maryse told him. “You were safer here, even without us to watch over you, than you would have been if we hadn’t gone to Idris. The situation in Alicante was— The entire Clave was in danger.”

“Whatever it is you need to say,” Alec said, “just tell me.”

“What we’re about to tell you stays in this room,” Robert began. “The information is too dangerous to get out, and we don’t know who we can trust.”

Alec shook his head. “That doesn’t work for me. You either trust me with this, or you don’t. If you’re going to give me information that’s important to running this Institute, then you need to trust me to know who to tell and who not to.”

His parents exchanged a glance, seeming to speak with their eyes. Finally, Maryse shook her head and looked away.

Robert looked at Alec. “Valentine Morgenstern is alive. He’s been working to rebuild the Circle for at least five years.”

“Wait,” Alec said. “Is that why the two of you were recalled to Idris after Consul Dieudonné died? Did the Circle kill him?”

Maryse took a deep breath, steeling herself, then turned back to her son. “No,” she said. “Malachi Dieudonné was part of the Circle. He was working with Valentine. Your father and I uncovered his plot and stopped him.”

Alec stared, having trouble taking this all in. “How?” he asked. “How is it possible that the former Consul was part of the Circle, and this is the first I’ve heard of it? It seems like that’s the kind of thing people would talk about, especially if he was executed for it.”

“You have to understand,” Maryse said, “we didn’t know who we could trust. Even now, we aren’t certain how far Valentine’s reach goes. When we uncovered Malachi’s betrayal, we went to the people on the Council we knew we could trust.”

“Our family has been close with the Penhallows for generations,” Robert said, “and your mother and Jia were always close. So that was one person we knew we could trust.”

“And Imogen Herondale’s hatred for the Circle is legendary,” Maryse added. “Valentine had her son killed, so we knew that she would never work with him. But that was it. Out of the entire Council, Imogen and Jia were the only two we could be absolutely certain weren’t working with Valentine, and with the discovery of Malachi’s betrayal, we were very cautious.”

“So, what?” Alec said. “The four of you got together and rooted out the Circle members on the Council?” He was having trouble believing what he was hearing. “How would you even begin to do that?”

Maryse shook her head. “We didn’t have the means to determine who on the Council was working for Valentine, not with Malachi still in charge. It isn’t as simple as that, you have to understand. We were just two Heads of Institute, and we were accusing the Consul of treason.”

“Still,” Alec said, “you were Heads of Institute. Surely, that carries some weight.”

Once again, his parents shared a look.

“We weren’t exactly in high standing in Idris at the time,” Robert said. “We still aren’t, to be frank, but it’s better now that we’ve been working with Consul Penhallow for the past several years. Still, it’s a tenuous thing, and you need to understand why.”

Robert’s face was grave as he continued. “Your mother and I were given the New York Institute under unusual circumstances. It was a reward of sorts for doing our jobs, but it was also an effective banishment from Idris.”

“Banishment?” Alec asked, shocked. “What for?”

“For being members of the Circle,” Maryse answered. “And for recruiting people to Valentine’s cause.”

Alec gasped in a deep breath. It wasn’t possible. He knew his parents could be harsh, and their distaste for Downworlders was obvious even when they made an attempt to hide it, but the Circle wanted to eliminate the entire Downworld, to wipe every vampire, werewolf, warlock, and seelie from existence. That went beyond mere dislike. That was genocide.

“We left, obviously,” Maryse added quickly. “The reason we weren’t executed or imprisoned is that we turned on Valentine and the Circle, and helped the Council take them down.”

Alec stared, horrified. “That— That doesn’t make up for being a part of the Circle in the first place,” he told them. “What Valentine and his followers tried to do was horrific. I can’t believe you were a part of it, even for a short time.”

“Valentine didn’t start out a fanatic,” Robert insisted. “At first, his goals were noble. He wanted to protect Shadowhunters and mundanes from the demonic influence among Downworlders.”

“We did it because we wanted to make the world a better place,” Maryse said. “For our family. For our children.”

Alec shook his head. “No. No, you don’t get to say you did this for us. Your sins are your own. You leave us out of it.”

“Alec—” Maryse started, but Alec cut her off.

“That’s enough. You must have a reason for telling me all this, so get to the point. You aren’t going to be able to justify your involvement with the Circle to me. So, Valentine Morgenstern is still alive, the Circle is still alive and well, and you were involved in some conspiracy to take down the former Consul.

“Wait,” Alec realized. “Did you have something to do with Consul Dieudonné’s death?”

“That’s not important right now,” Maryse said, as good as confirming it. “What’s important is that I’ve been helping Consul Penhallow track the Circle’s movements for years, and I have it from several sources that Valentine now believes the Mortal Cup is somewhere in New York.”

Alec rubbed a hand down his face. “So, you’re telling me that there are going to be Circle members around New York.”

“Around New York, and possibly even already within this Institute,” Robert said.

“We didn’t want to get you involved in this, Alec,” Maryse told him, “but we couldn’t let you take over as Head of the Institute without telling you now that we know Valentine is sending people here to look for the Mortal Cup.”

“All right,” Alec said, needing to focus on what needed to be done and not on his parents’ confession. “Do you know anything about where the Circle thinks the Mortal Cup might be?”

Maryse shook her head. “No. Some of my sources aren’t even convinced the Cup itself is in New York. They think maybe Valentine is only looking for a person who knows the Cup’s location.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to find the Mortal Cup before the Circle does,” Alec said. Which should be fun on top of everything else he’d been dealing with.

“That would be for the best,” Robert told him, “and if you can keep an eye out for Circle activity in the area and report back to us, too, that would be a great help.”

“To you,” Alec said flatly. “Not to the Council.”

Maryse shook her head. “We still aren’t certain that there are no Circle members on the Council, and we can’t risk Valentine finding out that we have eyes on him. You’ll need to send your reports directly to the two of us, and to Consul Penhallow.”

“Not Inquisitor Herondale?” Alec asked. “Isn’t she a part of this, too?”

“Imogen can be...” Maryse tilted her head, considering her words, “a bit intense when it comes to matters involved Valentine and the Circle. Consul Penhallow has found it’s better to loop her in to information only when we have concrete facts and a course of action planned.”

“Great,” Alec said. “You don’t just want me to keep secrets from the Council, but from the people who are helping you keep your secrets.” He shook his head in exhaustion. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“There is one more thing,” Robert said. “Valentine’s return and Consul Dieudonné’s betrayal are the reason we pushed for updating the Accords. The four of us spoke about it at length and agreed that the best way to keep from having to face both the Circle and a Downworld revolt at the same time, which there undoubtedly would be if the Downworlders ever found out about the extent to which the Circle has managed to infiltrate the governing body of the Clave, was to solidify our relationship with the Downworld as best as possible.”

“The marriage written into the Accords,” Alec said, understanding dawning. “That’s why you were both so outspoken in your support of it.”

Robert nodded. “And now that Valentine is making a move to find the Mortal Cup, finalizing the new Accords is more important than ever. Which is why the Consul has convinced the Council that your marriage should take place next week, before the signing of the revised Accords.”

“Next week?” For the first time since he entered the office, Alec felt something besides anger. He couldn’t get married in a week. He’d barely even gotten used to the idea that he was supposed to marry Magnus, although admittedly, talking to Magnus had helped. There was something about having someone try to talk him out of a thing that made it so much easier for Alec to recognize why he wanted to do it. Still, a week was far too soon. “I thought we’d have more time. A month or two, at least.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re planning an actual wedding,” Maryse said with a wave of her hand. “This is a purely political transaction. It just needs to be a good show so that the Accords are solid once they’re signed.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? That this was a political transaction, but it was with Magnus, and Magnus had said...

“Fine,” Alec said. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” Robert answered. “But if you want to talk more about any of this—”

“I don’t,” Alec said, moving to his desk. “If you don’t mind, I have things to do, and I remember Jace saying something about the two of you needing to get back to Alicante.”

Maryse sighed. “All right, Alec. But we will talk about this again when you’re ready.”

“Don’t count on that being any time soon.”

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic

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