#mhbs

--

The last thing Magnus is expecting is for Alec to show up back at the loft a mere two hours after he’d left for the Institute. But he waves him in the door anyway, heart sinking at the deep furrow in Alec’s brow.

He tries to make light of it, ease that tension. “Alexander! Am I really so lucky that I get to steal you away from work for another day?”

Alec doesn’t even crack a smile. “We need to talk.”

Those four words never bode well. And now that Magnus is paying attention, he can feel that Alec’s side of the bond is just roiling with frustration and anger. Not directed at Magnus, he hopes. “Very well. Come and sit down.”

“Is your apartment secure?” Alec asks, like the words are pushed from his lungs. He doesn’t sit down.

“Of course. I’m not a master wardsmith for nothing. Alec, what’s wrong?”

“This didn’t come from me,” Alec continues, and now Magnus is getting anxious, too.

He lays a hand on Alec’s arm, and that seems to settle a little of his nerves. “My lips are sealed. What is it?”

Finally Alec meets his gaze. “The Clave doesn’t have the Soul Sword.”

For a second, Magnus doesn’t know how to respond to this. It’s not entirely surprising, even if it is infuriating. All he can say, dumbly, is, “Well, where is it, then?”

“They don’t know. Someone working with Valentine must have grabbed it when they attacked the Institute. Maybe Valentine has it now that he’s escaped?” Some of Alec’s tension seems to have deflated now that he’s admitted this and Magnus didn’t… what, walk out of the room? Start hating him? “The Clave didn’t want the Downworld to know. Even though it affects you guys the most.”

It did, and Magnus isn’t sure he’ll be able to contain his rage the next time he runs into Maryse or anyone else. Alec must sense it, because he lays his hand on Magnus’s shoulder.

“They deserve to know,” he says, quieter now, “but it can’t come from me. Or you. As it is, the moment it gets out, they’ll think I leaked it. We can’t leave them any trail of evidence to prove it. Otherwise, they’ll throw me out of my position—to whatever extent I even have a position—and Angel knows who’ll they’ll install in my place.”

“I agree,” Magnus says. He doesn’t want to see Alec executed for treason, and he doesn’t want the Downworld to lose one of its few allies in the Institute. And, more selfishly, he doesn’t want to lose his husband. “I’ll find someone and create a plausible story. You shouldn’t be involved in this anymore. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

“As much as I hate being out of the loop, I know you’re right.” Alec’s hand is still on his shoulder, and he rubs his thumb along Magnus’s collarbone. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… furious,” Magnus admits. “Every time I think the Clave can’t stoop any lower, they still manage to surprise me.”

“You deserve better,” Alec says. Now that his anxiety about his secret has faded somewhat, Magnus can feel a spark of fear through the bond. “Whatever you do, please be careful. I don’t like the idea of that thing being out there. I almost lost you to it once.”

“I’m always careful,” Magnus says, and Alec shakes his head as if he knows that’s far from the truth. “And besides, I am extremely powerful and indestructible.” He swirls a plume of magic around Alec, and Alec smiles. He takes Magnus’s face between his hands and kisses him, just a gentle press of lips.

“Much as I’d like to keep you here for activities of a less work-related variety,” Magnus says as they separate, “I believe I have some messages that are definitely not about the Soul Sword to convey…”

Alec chuckles. “I’ll leave you to it. I should probably get back before they start to think I’m ‘selling secrets to the enemy.’”

“Well, they wouldn’t be entirely wrong,” Magnus says. “But I find it hard to consider it treasonous when your enemy is so handsome and irresistible.”

Alec kisses him again on the cheek. “Then I better get going before I get pulled into any more lustful and treasonous acts.”

Magnus opens a portal for him, and Alec turns to go, but before he can, Magnus calls out. There’s one more thing he has to say. “Alec?”

Alec turns to look at him.

“Thank you,” Magnus say, because not everyone would have done what he did, even if it was the right thing to do. “And be careful.”

Alec gives him a small smile, and then he’s gone, and Magnus just stands there for a moment, trying to wrap his heart around the unfamiliar feeling in his chest. He’s… happy, he realizes. It’s so strange to be able to find a brief moment of happiness in the midst of all this darkness and chaos.

But he doesn’t mind the feeling.

--

As Alec’s stepping through the doors of the Institute, his phone pings with a text.

Magnus: wow, I was beaming so hard from those kisses that for a second I forgot we were trying to avert a genocide

By the way, this text will self-destruct in 3… 2… 1…

And then, to Alec’s amusement and astonishment, the text actually disappears from his phone. He doesn’t know how Magnus does that.

You are completely insane, he texts back.

Magnus is insane, and insanely ridiculous.

But he’s also everything Alec wants.

--

Magnus waits several days before allowing the Soul Sword information to be released to the entire Shadow World. Alec sees how it kills him inside to keep it a secret, but they can’t allow anyone to make a connection between Alec receiving the intel and it being leaked. There need to be buffers—in time, in days, in people. No evidence trails.

Finally, five days after Alec first told him, Magnus sets in motion the careful series of events that will let the information out as discreetly as possible.

And then the Downworld erupts.

--

Alec returns to the Institute the next day with trepidation. Despite their safeguards, it’s inevitable that suspicion will fall on him. It will be difficult to keep up the act of ignorance.

He hopes this will at least be a wakeup call to the Clave that they need to take Valentine more seriously. And that they need to take the Downworld more seriously. There will be war if they don’t.

As expected, both Maryse and Robert are waiting for him in his office, arms crossed, matching dark looks on both of their faces.

“Rough morning?” Alec asks as he sits down at his desk.

“We know it was you, Alec,” Maryse says. “And I’m not even going to bother expressing my disappointment because I’ve said it already and clearly it had no effect.”

“You know what was me?” Alec asks, as if he doesn’t know.

“Don’t play dumb. You told Bane about the Sword,” says Robert. He doesn’t even look that disappointed anymore, and Alec wonders idly if telling him was meant to be a test.

“No, a vampire over in Long Island City overheard a patrol talking about it. We’re thinking the patrol picked it up from a visiting councilmember who let it slip. Didn’t you get the intel?”

Alec hadn’t been privy to any of Magnus’s planning, which was probably for the best, but it seemed that his husband had ultimately decided to throw some Shadowhunters under the bus in order to accomplish this. But said Shadowhunters were all but open supporters of Valentine, so Alec isn’t feeling too bad about it.

Maryse doesn’t seem impressed by this. “This is treason against the Clave, Alec. The Council will hear about it.”

Alec refuses to let himself be intimidated. Not anymore. And if they pull him before the Council, so be it. “If you can prove that, then by all means.”

They won’t be able to prove it. Magnus is extremely subtle when he needs to be, and extremely thorough. There’s no paper trail, and no witnesses.

“But before you do, you should consider the fallout,” he adds, leaning back in his chair. “Your oldest son convicted of treason? That doesn’t look very good. And after you worked so hard to improve your reputations too… Not to mention how the alliance we have with the Downworld will evaporate into thin air if one half of the partnership is executed. Not that it’s not already on its way there.”

This amount of theatrics isn’t usually Alec’s style. Magnus must be rubbing off on him.

It has the intended effect, though. Maryse and Robert look genuinely thrown.

“You might want to focus on more important things. Like making peace with the Downworld before they burn down the Institute. Getting Valentine and the Sword back will go a long way towards that.”

“Unbelievable,” Maryse huffs, and storms out.

Robert lingers for another moment, giving Alec a careful look. “You may want to think harder about giving so much trust to someone you barely know,” he finally says.

Alec gives him a bland smile. “Trust is important in a marriage, isn’t it?”

Robert flinches. But he seems to finally realize he’s not going to get anywhere with Alec today, and retreats from the room.

As soon as he’s gone, all of Alec’s flattened emotions come crashing back down on top of him. By the Angel, that was stressful. And he can’t believe it actually worked.

It still hurts, having to go against his parents like that. It still fills him rage that he should have to.

But what’s done is done. His parents made their own decisions. All Alec can do is try to be better than they were.

A distant question comes through the bond, and Alec realizes suddenly that his emotions are spilling all over the place and Magnus must have felt them. He tries to push some reassurance back so Magnus doesn’t think something went terribly wrong. And a moment later, his phone pings with a text that only has one character: a heart.

Despite it all, Alec’s own heart warms. Through all of this, at the very least, he has Magnus. That, alone, is worth fighting for.

--

He expects the Clave to make some kind of overture to the Downworld, at the very least to pacify them, if not to actively apologize. But the days tick by, and they don’t. They don’t say anything, they don’t meet with anyone. They’re still hunting for the Sword, of course, and for Valentine. But not to protect the Downworld, merely to save their own asses. Alec calls everyone he can think of—everyone who might have a chance of listening to him—to impress upon them the importance of taking action before things boil over into outright war. But no one acts. Alec tries to leverage his ‘position’ as a liaison to the Downworld to strengthen his argument, but it has no effect.

They don’t take the Downworld seriously. They don’t care about their feelings or opinions. And as long as they don’t, no action will be taken.

Alec makes overtures to the local Downworld leaders himself, because he can’t do nothing, meets with them all at a neutral location. They seem to appreciate it, but they all tell him the same thing: it’s not enough. This affects all Downworlders worldwide, so the Clave itself needs to take action. The New York Institute cannot stand alone.

Alec still goes home to Magnus every night, but his husband is agitated. Fearful. Angry. Every negative emotion Alec can think of. And Alec is, too.

He tries to just hold him as much as possible, even though it’s still a little unfamiliar to do so, in the hopes that it will help. The worst is when he feels Magnus sink into a boneless sort of tiredness, like all his hope has been sucked out of him. It never lasts long, as Magnus is relentless about bouncing back up and planning or fighting or simply raging. But it’s difficult to witness all the same.

They wait, feeling paralyzed. The Clave doesn’t act. Finally, the Downworld leaders reconvene one final time, deciding that if the Clave won’t act, then they will.

--

When Magnus returns from that meeting, he lingers in the doorway for a moment. He thinks he might be shaking a bit. Adrenaline crash. He feels like all the blood’s drained out of him. Finally, he manages to push himself upright, and heads for the living room.

Heads for his terrible fate.

“Magnus.” Alec stands as soon as he sees him. He hadn’t been privy to this particular meeting. Which means now Magnus has to convey the decision to him directly. “What is it? How did the meeting go?”

Magnus mechanically makes his way over to his drinks cart and starts pouring himself something, barely looking at what it is. “The Downworld leaders,” he finally starts, haltingly, “sans moi, were unanimous in the step they want to take. They believe—and this part I do agree with, I suppose—that the Clave lying about the Sword is evidence that the Clave isn’t upholding their end of our agreement. That they never had any intention of upholding it. Their inaction in the wake of that event is only driving that home.”

Magnus turns so he can half-watch Alec out of the corner of his eye. He can’t make himself meet his gaze entirely. He watches the apprehension grow on Alec’s face.

“And?” Alec finally says.

Magnus lets out a shuddering breath. “They want to annul the marriage.”

Time ticks out eternally between them as Alec internalizes this statement. Magnus wishes him luck with it. He still hasn’t internalized it.

“What?” Alec eventually ekes out. “Even— Maia and Raphael said that? I thought they were your friends.”

Magnus takes a gulp of his drink. “They were… ambivalent about it, but they eventually agreed. But it wasn’t just up to them. This was a broader consortium of leaders from across the region. Although, to be honest, I think Maia and Raphael would have agreed with the decision easily if it were anyone other than me involved. They agree that this alliance is hollow, they just don’t want to hurt me.”

“It probably is hollow, at least on the Clave’s end,” Alec says, and he sounds so upset that Magnus has to take another long sip of his drink. He’s going to burn through all of his whiskey in the next hour at this rate. “But that doesn’t mean we should just— what, give up? Break the Accords?”

If the Accords are really what Alec cares most about in this moment, Magnus will go sober.

“We are all very tired of continually putting in effort with the Clave and getting nothing in return,” he says. Magnus hates the idea of losing Alec, but he can’t say he entirely disagrees with the Downworld’s decision. There can be no more concessions. Not when so many lives are on the line.

“Magnus, this is our marriage we’re talking about, it’s not some tool they can just use however they want!”

“It is a tool!” Magnus snaps, and his heart pangs when Alec flinches. “It’s always been a tool, and we’ve always known that. Just because we never anticipated it being used in this way—” he presses a hand to his mouth. “Oh, I feel ill.”

Alec takes his arm and eases the now-empty glass from his grip. “Come on, sit down.”

Magnus lets Alec lead him over to the couch, and sits down heavily, resting his head on his knees. One should really not mix panic and whiskey on an empty stomach. Alec rubs the back of his neck. Magnus doesn’t deserve his comfort. If he’d just— just kept more distance the whole time, then this wouldn’t hurt so much. It would just be business, like it was always supposed to be.

“We don’t have to do it this way,” Alec says, quieter now. “I can— I can break with the Clave.”

Does Magnus really mean that much to him?

Magnus shakes his head. “They would hunt you down for treason. Derune you, or— or just kill you. I don’t want you to lose everything because of this.” Because of me.

“Well, there has to be some kind of middle ground,” Alec says, and Magnus can hear the threads of desperation woven through his voice. Woven through the bond.

“There isn’t one.”

“There has to be.”

“There isn’t,” Magnus insists. He pushes himself back up, but doesn’t meet Alec’s eyes, leaning his hands on his knees. “You think I didn’t try to change their minds? They were set on it. I tried everything I knew. But I couldn’t think of another solution. I don’t know any other way to make the Clave see reason, other than outright war. And because I couldn’t offer a viable alternative, I couldn’t sway them.”

“We can’t just give up,” Alec says.

Magnus thinks maybe he already has given up. He can feel that hopelessness making a home in his chest. Alec deserves better than that. But Magnus doesn’t know how to give him better.

“If I go along with what they want,” Magnus says quietly, “it could mean war with the Clave. If I oppose them, it could still mean war with the Clave, and I could lose the Downworld. Maybe forever. I can’t lose the Downworld, Alec. Not for anything.”

That, at last, finally seems to make Alec deflate. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Nothing about this is about what I want,” Magnus says, the words bitter on his lips. “Are you going to oppose me?”

“I’m not going to force you to be married to me, no.”

Magnus scrubs his hands through his hair. He hates this. He hates this so much. “I want to be with you,” he says. “I do want you to know that. Maybe in a different life…”

Unfortunately, they have to live in this life.

Alec wraps his arms around him and pulls him close. Magnus leans into his touch, even though he doesn’t feel like he deserves this grace.

“What will happen to the bond?” Alec murmurs into Magnus’s hair. His voice is numb now.

“I don’t know.” Magnus’s tone is flat, he can’t summon enough emotion for any inflection. Feeling it will probably break him. “It will be broken, I suppose.”

Alec makes a strangled sound, which Magnus can only echo internally. The bond is just ricocheting back and forth between them with anger and anguish and despair. Magnus feels breathless with it.

Alec releases Magnus after that. Magnus misses his touch.

“Why is it an annulment, anyway?” Alec asks, staring straight ahead. “Why not a divorce? Because we didn’t have sex?”

“Sex has nothing to do with it,” Magnus says. “A divorce would symbolize that we had an agreement that fell apart. An annulment signifies that there was never a true agreement in the first place. That’s how the Downworld feels about it.”

“The Downworld never liked this—” Alec starts, but Magnus cuts him off.

“They were suspicious. And rightly so, as you can see the Clave’s done little to uphold their end of the bargain. If you want to blame someone, blame the Clave for not dealing with Valentine. Blame the Clave for risking everyone’s lives by lying about the Sword.” Don’t blame me, he thinks but doesn’t say. He couldn’t stand it if Alec hated him.

“I do,” Alec says, “but at least let me try. Let me try to convince the Clave to make a genuine show of faith to the Downworld.”

“You’ve already tried—”

“Let me try again. I’ll figure it out. Just let me try.”

Magnus looks at him warily. But underneath his caution, there’s a glimmer of hope. If there is a chance, he has to take it, doesn’t he? “I can stall them for a few days. But, Alec, if this doesn’t work…”

“It has to,” Alec says. His desperation is so strong through the bond that Magnus feels like he’s going to be sick from it. “It has to.”

They just stare at each other for a long moment, the air heavy and hopeless between them. Magnus doesn’t know how it’s come to this. How a marriage that neither of them wanted in the first place could have come to mean so much, and then suddenly, when they’d barely had it, meant nothing.

“Alright,” Alec says, and stands up. “It sounds like I have work to do.”

Magnus doesn’t want him to go. He feels like if Alec goes now, he won’t come back. But still he says, “Okay.”

Alec gets up. He heads for the door. Magnus stumbles to his feet to watch him go. He feels unsteady. He feels the bond stretching thin between them.

Before he gets to the door, Alec stops, seemingly deliberating. Magnus’s heart thuds in his chest. Then Alec turns around and strides back toward him, and Magnus stays still, powerless to move away even as he senses an impending fatal collision. And Alec grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and kisses him.

It’s with such force that Magnus stumbles backward. But he finds his balance again, leaning into the kiss, hands falling to Alec’s hips to pull him closer, his eyes falling shut. Alec kisses him with the pain of a wounded man hemorrhaging blood, sharp teeth and desperation, and Magnus knows exactly how he feels. He tastes the salt of tears on his lips, and he doesn’t know if they’re Alec’s, or his own, or both.

Alec runs a hand along his cheek, wiping them away. He whispers against Magnus’s lips. “I’m sorry.”