#banecourt

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“Love of my life, you have hurt me.

Broken my heart and now you leave me.

Love of my life, can’t you see?

Oh bring it back, bring it back,

Don’t take it away from me

Because you don’t know,

What it means to me.”

-          Love of my life by Queen

 Camille hadn’t changed at all.

Magnus knew it was physically impossible for a vampire to change with age but he had hoped that somehow time would have run its course and made Camille a little bit softer, a little less cynical or at least, a little less bitchy.

But even the unrelenting ravaging of time had not been able to chip away at any of those things about Camille and Magnus blamed himself for holding out hope even after everything she had done to him.

“Cozy little place you have here.”  Camille was eyeing his apartment with the idle curiosity of a visitor at a museum who was only mildly interested in what was around them. She was seated on one of Magnus’s sofa with all the ease and grace of a highborn baroness and cut a striking figure in her little red dress, all lithe limbs and alabaster skin. He noticed her eyes stop at the coffee machine on the island a little longer and a knowing smile stretched across her otherwise cold features and somehow managed to make her look even colder.

“Yes small talk this, small talk that. Now can you please tell me why you are here so we can get this over with?”

He felt bone tired as he stood near the kitchen counter, his third coffee for the evening in his hand. He had spent consecutive nights this week trying to discover a way to find Jace and consecutive days trying to convince Alexander that he had fair reasons behind everything he did. There had been an invisible barrier building up between him and the shadowhunter for a while now and he was too afraid to consider what it might result in. All in all, Camille could not have come at a worse time.

“Why Magnus it almost sounds like you are not happy to see me.”

Camille’s eyes flashed mischievously and for a moment Magnus was reminded of an evening long ago in the Sanctuary of the London Institute where the vampire and the warlock have had their share of fun tormenting stuck up shadowhunters with idle flirting. But that warlock had been young and naïve and easily distracted by shiny packages. This one right here, right now, thought he knew better.

“Just get to it Camille.” He sighed, leaning back against the counter and absentmindedly swirling what little coffee was left in his mug.

“Very well then,” The vampire smiled with a demented sort of glee like that of a cat about o knock a glass off a table. “Your shadowhunter boy, the blue eyed one, I have an inkling that he wants to murder you.”

It caught him like a fucking blow to the chest.

But he was four hundred years old and knew better. Knew better than to trust Camille. Knew better than to show her vulnerability.

“Okay. Thank you for your concern,” He spared a bright smile that conveyed nothing. “If that’s all, the door’s that way.”

Camille stared at him blankly for a moment and shook her head. “I’m serious, Magnus.” She said, standing up and moving closer to him, the expression on her face alarmingly honest.

But Magnus was not going to be fooled. Not again.

“So am I.” He said, “I’m not going to trust someone who’s petty and jealous and wants to see my relationship ruined.”

Camille sighed and shrugged but did not move away from him; Instead she leaned back against the counter next to him with a look of mild annoyance etched onto her features.

“Fine! Call me anything you want, call me all the names in the world but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m telling the truth.”

“I’m not calling you names, I’m describing you.” Magnus offered with another amicable but bland smile. “You have no proof; it’s just the word of a woman who had lied to me before against the word of a man who had never once lied to me ever.”

“A man who has had trouble dealing with the fact that one day his hair will turn gray and his skin would wrinkle and he’d wither away but you’d remain as young as ever.”

She added nonchalantly, without even sparing him a glance. And Magnus felt his heart freeze for one long, unending second.

“Look, I agree, I’m jealous and petty but I have never wished you ill Magnus.” Her voice was softer this time; the usual edge of disdain having disappeared into thin air. “And see, I did have proof.”

Magnus remained silent, his eyes focused on the mug in his hand but not seeing it at all. It felt as if someone was twisting a knife into his lungs. It was the worst news and Camille being the one to bring it to him was just the Universe kicking him when he was already down.

“How do you know?”

“He came to me.” She didn’t sound like she was lying. “Your pretty blue eyed boy, he wanted me to tell him a way to steal your immortality, he couldn’t bear to see himself aging when you remained young forever.”

“But there is no such way.”

“I told him that much.” There’s a hint of sympathy in her voice and Magnus recoiled inwardly at being subjected to pity by Camille of all people. “He was desperate, honestly. Offered to make a deal with me for the secret.”

“And?”

Camille shrugged. “Well you know me, I’m not above the occasional lie. I offered to help him find a way if he took care of something for me.”

He’s almost too scared to ask, but he wants to know all the same. “What?”

“I wanted him to kill Raphael for me.” Her voice didn’t waver or tremble. “And he agreed.”

The knife in his lungs felt as if it had caught on fire. He desperately tried to spot the lie in her story, but every aspect of it seemed to be perfectly true. If this was indeed a lie, it was so finely crafted that even Magnus could not detect a hint of fraud in it. Alec might be a soft and sincere boyfriend, but before that he was a headstrong shadowhunter and a desperate human. There was no limit to the lengths he might go to get what he wanted. It was a combination deadlier than the Serpent and the Forbidden Fruit.

“I’m sorry.” She offered without much feeling but there’s that softness to her voice again. He had known that from ages long gone, when they were still lovers and they had lain on smooth satin, in dark chambers whispering to each other of things he can no longer care to remember.  “I know how it feels to lose someone who means much.”

“Do you now?” He asked in a sudden moment of uncontrollable spite. She had come storming into his life again and ruined something perfect yet again. Some might call his anger and bitterness misplaced but Magnus had all the reasons in the world to say it.

“Yes.” She had the nerve to sound offended. “Yes I do, Magnus. You are not the only person who has loved and lost. Don’t look down on me from that pedestal you have put yourself on.”

“Oh if anyone in this room deserves a fucking pedestal it’s me alright.” He scoffed with a bitterness that seeped from his words like venom. “I have never broken a heart, I have never hurt anyone I have loved, even after everything you did, I’m still here listening to you. So don’t talk to me about looking down on you ‘cause I have every right to!”

“You are soft.” Camille sighs but there’s no insult in her tone. “Even after all these centuries your heart is still fresh and bloody and raw. I don’t think it will ever freeze over completely, maybe it should but I don’t think it ever will.” She turned to him, immersed in thought. “You are soft; Your Alexander is a shadowhunter. You and I both know they don’t know how to deal with fragility. They will ruin it even if they don’t mean to.”

Magnus swallowed against the uneasy knot forming in his throats and turned his eyes to the floor. She was right. He had seen this before countless times but he had hoped they could be different.

“You deserve better,” Camille smiled and stood on her tip toes to place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Remember that, Magnus. Remember your immortality is a part of you as much as mine is a part of me.” He understood what she didn’t say and she knew that he did. But neither of them found the need to confirm anything out loud. The silence ruled between them for one eternal moment before Magnus nodded, his eyes glued to the stained glass window in front of him.

Camille left. The sun sank over the city line.

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Is this Banecourt angst? Or is it Malec angst? Who knows?

Once Upon a Time AU

A long time ago we lived in a world much different from our world today. There was no magic. There were no heroes or villains. There was no “true love”. Long before you or I were ever born, the Wicked Queen Camille had the entire world changed so that she might be Queen of all. So she had the most powerful Warlock in the world make it so, for he was in love with her. 

So for her, he brought the entire world here, to a place where those with magic didn’t need to hide. To a world that was magic itself. He gave her great power, and every comfort she would desire. He loved her endlessly and faithfully, in this world just for her. But this world came with a catch. The world was free to decide a person’s fate. The world was made of stories, and the world would decide who played the heroes, who played the villains, and who lived to tell the tale. 

The life of a hero would be full of hardship, but would ultimately lead to a happy ending.

The life of a villain would be one of cruelty and self indulgence, but in the end, all villains would be vanquished.

The only thing that could change a person’s fate was true love.

200 years after the infamous Magnus Bane changed the world, and 100 years after the Evil Queen was vanquished and the Warlock disappeared, Alec Lightwood was content playing a secondary role in the stories all his family and friends led. Fate had other plans however.

With Imasu it tasted of Youth. The taste of thousand little unprompted and sudden adventures. The sun on your shoulders while you swim in a crystal cool lake. The taste of new alcohol tried at new places with old friends in older cities. Imasu’s Love was as sudden as the sparks that fly when two swords clash. Beautiful yet not there for longer than a moment.

With Kitty it tasted of Recklessness. The taste of little mistakes that taught you nothing about life but was made for the sole purpose of fun. Pulling a lover towards you by the belt loops and smashing your lips on them in a fit of passion. The taste of spicy food you ate only to win a bet. Kitty loved like an outlaw on the run. Fast and with only half her heart.

With Etta it tasted of Sunday. The taste of unwinding after a week of good honest work. Laying in bed until Midday with your lover’s arms wrapped around you while you place butterfly kisses on their forehead. The taste of homemade pie eaten on a daisy field while sitting on a red and white picnic blanket. Her love was a gentle summer rain. Healing yet never here to stay.

With Camille it tasted of Death. The taste of parting, something feared, yearned yet when actually confronted not exactly what you expected. Days spent in dark rooms on red satin amidst eager arms and Nights spent in dimly lit booths at places full of strangers. It was the taste of blood oozing from an absinthe drenched lower lip gently bitten by an eager lover. Camille loved like a goddess infatuated with a mortal. So grandly and greatly but only as a pastime, and at the end leaving a broken, pining lover behind.

With Alexander it tastes of Stars. The taste of everything new and undiscovered. Finding a new secret nook in a library to snuggle up with a blanket, coffee and a good book. It is the taste of the first breakfast at your dream home you built for you and the family you will one day have. Alec loves like a warrior. With a promise and a hope that one day everything will be what they want them to be.