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stabbydragon · 6 months

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Lights Out

Jesse awakes to find himself alive. However, his mother has bargained something he was not ready to sacrifice. How can he live when the brightest light in his existence has been extinguished?

*Don't worry guys, Lucie's not gone forever!

The first thing Jesse noticed was that he had been awoken by the sound of a sharp breath and the pounding of a heart. His own breath and his own heart. But that was entirely impossible. He was dead. Wasn't he?

Unless—what if Grace and Lucie had done something dangerous to bring him back and were now in trouble? He opened his eyes to look for them and opened his mouth to call their names, but what came out instead was a yelp of unpleasant shock. He sat up and scuttled back, squished against the top of his coffin.

The second thing Jesse noticed was that the breath and heartbeat might not have been only his own at all. His mother's eerily familiar poison green eyes were peering at him, too close to allow comfort. Her face had more wrinkles and her head more white hairs than when he last saw her six months prior. The whites of her eyes were tinted red. Whether with tears, sleep deprivation, some sort of substance, or simple madness, Jesse was not sure. Knowing his mother, the answer was most likely all of the above.

"Jesse," she said. "My son, I have finally found a way to bring you back. I have worked endlessly to find a way…"

She continued rambling, but Jesse took no notice, because the third thing he noticed was someone crying out for help. A voice he recognized all too well. Grace.

He leaned to one side to peer behind his mother and caught sight of his younger sister standing in the middle of Chiswick’s ballroom. She seemed to be struggling against something in the attempt to escape, only there was nothing there. It seemed as though she was fighting thin air. He dug his fingers into the lining of his casket, and that was when it occurred to him.

I have no voyance rune. The thing she was fighting must have been some sort of demon that was invisible to him. But if he couldn't see his enemy, how could he help Grace?

And why wasn't Tatiana doing anything? She had never been the most attentive parent, but Jesse never imagined that she would pay so little heed to her adopted daughter's cries. Was she truly so selfish as to ignore the fact that the life of the girl she brought into the family was in danger?

He shoved his mother away, ignoring her offended spluttering—

And he stopped in his tracks, because the fourth thing he noticed was Lucie—his Lucie—sprawled upon the floor, face down and unmoving. There was a large spot of blood on the back of her dress, and some on the floor around her. She looked as though she were dead.

His first instinct was to deny it. Surely Lucie was too strong, too clever, too powerful to die at sixteen. No, she must just be unconscious or something of the like. But then what had happened to her, and why was she not waking up? The panic pooling in his stomach was one step away from coming back up his throat.

His mother, noticing his staring, nonchalantly confirmed his worst fears: "The Prince of Necromancers would not accept just any payment. It had to be someone of his own blood." She spoke of Lucie with disdain, as though she was some disgusting, filthy, cursed object and not the most wonderful person he had ever met, the one bright light that made his dark, miserable existence worth it.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" Jesse demanded. He was not in the habit of cursing, as Tatiana well knew, but in this scenario, he felt he was more than entitled to swear. In fact, Lucie would probably highly encourage him to swear.

Tatiana raised her chin stubbornly. “It was a necessary sacrifice—”

She was shut up by the impact of Jesse’s fist in her jaw. She doubled over, hissing in pain, and glared at Jesse in shock and offence. She brought her fingers to her mouth, and when she drew it away, there was blood in her mouth and on her hand and face.

Jesse was about to hit her again for that facial expression, as though he had just betrayed her and not the other way around, when a metallic clink sounded at his feet. He glanced towards his sister momentarily. His brain was not exactly working at the moment, but he deduced that Grace had managed to kill her captor and throw him a knife. She was looking at him intensely, and he knew perfectly well what she meant. It was his choice what to do.

He shouldn’t. He knew that. It was against all of his morals to kill another human being, even if they were a terrible person.

But then Lucie came into his mind. His Lucie, who he had tried to convince so many times not to get herself hurt on his behalf. Well, it seems that all of his words were in vain.

Never once looking away from his staring contest with Tatiana, Jesse bent down to pick up the dagger. He had made his choice—was it even a choice, or his very fate, his duty?

Tatiana made no move to escape or defend herself as Jesse drove the knife into her heart. He and his sister watched as the life slipped out of their mother's eyes and she fell to the ground—no. Not his mother. She didn’t deserve to be considered his family after what she did to Lucie.

He supposed he must have assumed he was crying, as would be the expected reaction of someone who had just lost somebody they loved as much as he loved Lucie, but he had not quite realised how hard he was sobbing or shaking until his knees gave out. Luckily, by that time, Grace had reached him and was able to catch him before he fell. He gave her a small nod in gratitude, as that was all that he was able to manage.

Grace helped him for the few steps it took to reach Lucie’s body, then let him go. He fell on his knees, which was good because he desperately wanted to be close to her.

He took a hold of Lucie’s hand, stroked the back of it with his thumb, and brought it to his cheek, where a few of his tears fell on it. Dear God, she was so cold. He had never felt her temperature, but he had spent more time in the past four months than he would care to admit imagining how warm she would be, how her heartbeat would feel. Now he would never find out.

It took him a while to notice that Grace had her arm wrapped around his shoulders, and that she was shedding tears of her own. He had always been the only one to whom she would show her true emotions, but even he had not seen her truly weep since the few weeks after his own death.

The fifth thing Jesse noticed, albeit as though from afar, was the sound of a door opening, followed by a pair of screams. He recognised the voices, but unlike Grace’s, he was not familiar enough with them to be able to tell who it was until one of them spoke with a breaking voice.

“What happened? Is she alright? Who did this? Did you hurt her?” Ah. It was James. That meant that the other person must have been Cordelia.

Jesse tried to respond, but his mouth would not even open. Fortunately, Grace saved him the trouble by saying, “Of course not! We would never hurt her! But she–she’s…” The last word, gone, hung in the air, causing Cordelia to let out a muffled cry and James to grip his wife’s arm tightly.

Jesse could not help but tune out Grace’s explanation of whatever it was that Tatiana did to Lucie. Judging by the length of the monologue, she was probably also filling them in on Jesse and Lucie’s history so they would be less mistrustful.

He paid slightly more attention, though that was not much, when James and Cordelia took turns recounting in quavering, teary voices how Lucie was supposed to have dinner at their house with their friends. When she had not arrived for an hour, they assumed that she had lost track of time writing, but when they called the institute, Will and Tessa had said that she was not home. They had used a tracking rune to find out that she was in Chiswick, but the rune had vanished about ten minutes ago.

“That’s about when I woke up,” Jesse managed to say, unsteadily getting to his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

But neither of them were looking at him. Cordelia had her face buried in her hands, and James…

James was looking right past his shoulder, his eyes and mouth open wide. “Lucie,” he whispered. “You’re a ghost!”

With a gasp, Jesse spun around to face the direction in which James was looking. When one became a ghost after death, it meant that they were not at peace, as he was not at peace. What was keeping Lucie restless? Was she angry about how her life was sacrificed for his without a second thought? Of course she was. Nobody could be anything other than enraged and devastated at the injustice of what had happened to her. Perhaps it was a good thing that she was lingering for a little longer, Jesse thought selfishly, because he desperately needed to apologise to her.

“Lucie, if you can hear me, if you’re really here,” he somehow managed to keep his voice from breaking, though it was certainly shaky, “I am so sorry that it turned out this way. You know I never wanted this to happen to you. You have so many friends and family who love you. I only have you and Grace.” He shut his eyes as tightly as he could in a fruitless effort to keep his tears in. “I wish I were still dead.”

Suddenly, he felt an icy pressure on his cheek in the perfect shape of a hand, and then he heard her voice. “Oh, Jesse, don’t say that. You know I hate hearing you say things like that.”

His eyes flew open to look at her. God, she looked so ethereal, translucent and almost radiating light. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, hold her tightly to him, make sure she would not leave him, but he was stopped by his reflexes. She would be so insubstantial, and it would only take the slightest pressure for his arms to merely go through her. Even the mere touch of her palm was an agonising reminder that she was no longer alive because of him. He could not stand the thought of getting closer or pulling away, and thus he remained perfectly frozen.

“Trust me when I say that there is objectively no one in all the world who deserves to live as much as you do,” said Lucie.

Jesse made a face that was something like a smile, but too sorrowful to be described as such. “You say objectively, but I’m pretty sure you’re biassed.”

She moved as though to cross her arms, but Jesse frantically caught her hand as though he would die if she stopped touching him for a moment. He sighed internally in relief when she remained solid and didn’t pull away. However, she did shift so two of her fingers were pressing his pulse, smiling when she found that it was racing. As always, that damned smile of hers could brighten up the world.

"You once told me that I lived up to my name by being a light in your lightless existence," she said, "but you could be just as bright. Tatiana tried to dim you like a cloud. Take this opportunity to show the world what it's been deprived of for so long. I want to see what you become, Jesse, with a second chance. I want to see how brightly you burn."

He fought through a sob. "Lucie… I don't know how I managed to exist so long before I met you. The thought of losing you when we’ve had so little time, when I’ve only just come back to life…would it even count as a life?”

"You can live without me, Jesse." She stepped closer to him. "But you won't have to. I don't plan on departing for quite a while to come. Death can't do us apart, after all," she added with a smirk.

Jesse's breath caught in his lungs, which made him wonder if he was dying all over again. "Really?" he choked out. "You won't leave me? You promise?"

"I promise not to go anywhere until I can go with you," she said. "But please, Jesse, swear to me that you won't do anything to speed up that process, will you? Promise that we won't end up like Romeo and Juliet."

"I swear."

He didn't get it. He didn't get why she would choose to be with him over the choice of a peaceful rest.

Still, this time, when his soul screamed for him to embrace her, his body followed the command with fervour. He held her tightly, and she returned the hug with equal firmness. Her lips found his for a quick kiss.

“I get it now,” he said, caressing her gelid cheek, “why you and Grace did the things you did.”

“And I get why you were so insistent on us stopping.” Lucie reached up to wipe away the tear rolling down his face. “But I’m not like you, darling. I’m not in that same twilight state; I’m simply dead.”

“You can’t simply be all right with all of this.” Jesse shook his head.

Lucie brought a hand to run her fingers through his hair endearingly. “ Of course I’m not all right with it, but it’s simply what is. I cannot come back as cleanly as you have, and certainly not without murder. Besides, you have a life to live; necromancy would only complicate it.”

“I seem to recall telling you the exact same thing,” Jesse glared.

Lucie started to laugh in that adorable way of hers that made his previously nonexistent breath catch, but she was cut off by Cordelia’s interruption—which was louder than strictly necessary, in Jesse’s opinion.

“Necromancy?” Cordelia exclaimed, her voice a higher pitch than usual. “Lucie, what is happening? And why did you never tell me about…whatever this is?” She was trembling.

Right. Jesse had forgotten that she, James, and Grace were still in the room, hearing their conversation. Only then did he consider how odd it must be for the couple to see the ghost of someone they were so close with talking with and embracing an unfamiliar boy who had been dead for seven years as though they had known each other for ages. In fact, he was surprised that neither of them had spoken up earlier. Perhaps they had, and he and Lucie were too focused on each other to notice.

Lucie stepped away from Jesse and towards Cordelia, though she deliberately entwined her hand with his, for which he was grateful.

"I'm sorry for keeping things from you Daisy." she says. "I want to tell you everything, but it’s a terribly long story.”

“I have time.”

“I don’t. I’m starting to understand why Jessamine hates making herself visible. It’s exhausting. I swear it’s not an excuse to get out of telling you the truth. I’ll tell you everything if you come to the institute first thing tomorrow morning, so my parents can hear it too. But I can’t show myself for much longer right now.” She sighed.

Cordelia stepped forward towards her friend. “Lucie…”

Lucie, glancing back, let go of Jesse’s hand and glided to her friend. The loss of contact with her made Jesse’s heart plummet, but he fought the urge to rush back to her side. Lucie wrapped her arms around Cordelia’s shoulders, and the latter hesitated before returning the gesture.

“I wish we could have gotten the chance to become parabatai, Daisy,” Lucie said, "but you'll see me again.”

“Lucie…” It was clear that she wanted to say goodbye, but instead she settled for, “I’ll see you later.”

Lucie, with a sad smile, turned back to her lover. She placed one hand in his and another on his shoulder as though they were about to dance the waltz. Jesse mirrored the analogy by putting a hand on her waist.

"I'm about to stop being visible," she told him. "You won't be able to see me. Only James and my father will be. But I'll still be here, right next to you."

"I love you, Lucie."

"I love you too." She vanished, and his arms dropped to his sides.

He had pictured her slowly fading from view or dissolving into the air, but instead she simply flickered out like a light. One moment she was clearly there right in front of him, and the next, that space seemed too empty. However, judging by the frigid temperature of the air around him and the way James' eyes anxiously followed a spot right next to him, he knew that Lucie had kept her promise.

There was a stretch of silence which was interrupted by Grace clearing her throat.

“Excuse me, I hate to interrupt your moment, but do we have a plan for Jesse? We can’t just waltz in and tell the whole Clave that a boy who’s been dead for seven years has just been resurrected by illegal means—”Jesse flinched. “And he’ll need a place to stay. It can’t be here, and it can’t be Bridgestock Manor.”

James wearily replied, “He can come to the London Institute. It’s where Shadowhunters usually go when they’re in need of a place to stay. In the morning, my parents, the Lightwoods, and the Fairchilds can figure out what to do with the Clave.”

“I doubt they’d be too pleased with me after what just happened,” Jesse said, looking at the ground.

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think they’ll hold anything against you for what happened to Lucie, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“She’s right,” James nodded. “They’ve all been wanting to meet you for a long time and were devastated when you died. They love you even though they don’t know you, and they’ll be glad to finally get that chance. Besides, they’re reasonable. They won’t blame you.”

Jesse did not think that James made a particularly convincing argument, but then he added, “Also, Lucie says that she will speak on your behalf against anyone who does.”

Jesse looked to where he hoped Lucie’s eyes were with a grateful expression.

“So,” Cordelia said,” shall we head to the Institute?”

***

Will and Tessa were devastated, of course, at the death of their daughter. They cried the whole night while Grace recounted the tale of Lucie’s death and Jesse’s resurrection. Lucie also added some commentary to Will, who repeated it for his wife’s sake. She saved the story of how she and Jesse met for the morning when she had enough energy to tell it herself, but she did summarise the story of the golden locket.

Despite the Herondales’ grief and anger towards Tatiana, James and Cordelia were right. They were nothing but warm and welcoming towards Jesse. They expressed their gratitude for saving their son’s life by offering him housing for as long as he wanted it, for which he thanked them profusely.

James and Cordelia ended up staying at the Institute for the week. They wanted to be close to James’ parents during their time of grief and to hear Lucie’s explanation first thing in the morning. Grace stayed as well to keep her brother company in the room directly next to his.

That night, Jesse slept for the first time in seven years. However, with that sleep came his first nightmare in seven years. In it, Tatiana was holding a knife that was aimed towards his heart. She kept on lunging and just barely missing. Then her face morphed into Lucie’s. “I’ll never forgive you,” she said before striking him directly in the heart. He fell through a pitch black void. He called Lucie’s name, but no light penetrated the darkness.

He woke up bathed in sweat with the sounds of his own screams ringing in his ears. His eyes flew open, his pupils dilated in their eagerness to find light. His racing heart immediately calmed once he spotted the light of his life.

Lucie was sitting at the edge of his bed—how very improper—with her hand in his hair. She was humming the tune to some children’s song that Jesse didn’t know, then stopped. “I’m right here, Jesse,” she said. “I will never leave you.”

@ghostwriterfest

#the last hours #tlh #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #jesse blackthorn #lucie herondale #grace blackthorn #ghostwriter #blackdale #heronthorn #jesse x lucie #juice #lucie x jesse #luciejesse #ghostwriterfest #tlh fanfiction #tsc fanfiction

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i-have-not-slept · 7 months

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Animalec Fest 2023

September 21: Treasure

@animalecfest

Read the whole thing on Ao3: Animalec Fest 2023 - Chapter 1 - i_have_not_slept - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

"But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more."

― Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid

Although it was a bright day, the ocean seemed dark and bleak to Magnus as he swam. Since the day that he’d left Alec on the beach, his every waking thought had been occupied with the prince. Even in his dreams Alec came to him, wrapping his arms around Magnus’s and laying his warm cheek against Magnus’s cool one, until the warmth of his body seemed to consume Magnus.

Magnus had never known it was possible to miss another person this much.

Thankfully, his father hadn’t managed to learn about Magnus’s meeting with Alec. He’d told his best friends, though, and listened as they tried to talk him round.

“You have to forget about him.” Catarina said, her face ceased with regret. “I’m sorry Magnus, I know you care about him, but humans and mers can’t be together.”

“There’s plenty more fish in the sea.” Ragnor had added. “Literally.”

Magnus knew they were concerned about him. He was concerned about himself. He’d never felt so strongly about another person, and it scared him how quickly and deeply he’d fallen for Alec. But the thought of a lifetime in the ocean, wasting away year after year in a listless daze… it was too much.

Sitting in his grotto, Magnus looked around at the items he’d collected, representing a lifetime of work. A lifetime of fascination with the land above the waves.

He opened the wooden box where he’d hidden the prince’s ring, and slipped it back onto his finger. Then he turned in a slow circle, looking around at his cave for probably the last time. There was a lump in his throat as he swam away. He swam not towards his father’s palace, but away from it, into the open wastes of deep water where few merfolk ever went.

Out here, the water was darker, murkier, and much colder. The coral here was bleached a sickly white, and the ground was covered in the broken pieces, looking like a carpet of chalky bones. Magnus looked a little closer, and shuddered as he realised some of it was bones, mixed in with the coral. Here and there were more complete skeletons, the remains of people who had drowned in shipwrecks. Magnus swam faster, not wanting to look at them.

Magnus swam through a tangle of grasping polyps, shaking them off when they tried to drag him down. On the other side was a bare plain of black sand. The only feature in the dead landscape was a house built from dead coral-- or maybe it was more bones. Magnus swam towards it, heart thudding.

A figure emerged from the house. White as the coral itself, with ink-black hair and eyes. She smiled as Magnus approached, revealing sharp and needle-like teeth.

“Hello, Magnus dear.” she said. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“You know what I want?” Magnus asked quietly. He supposed it made sense. She had spies everywhere.

“Of course.” Lilith’s smile widened. “And I can give it to you. Come inside so we can talk.”

Magnus followed her inside warily. Many years ago, Lilith and Asmodeus had fought over this part of the ocean. Now, an uneasy truce existed between them. Lilith was allowed to remain out here in the wastelands, but all of Asmodeus’s subjects— which included Magnus— were expressly forbidden to make contact with her. Magnus was breaking his father’s laws by being here. But then, he’d broken them the second he’d decided to save Alec. There was no going back from this.

“I heard about that prince nearly drowning.” Lilith said conversationally. “Pity you saved him. I would have had his eyes for my collection if you hadn’t.” She pointed to the corner of her house, where dozens of human eyeballs floated in a pool of greenish water. Magnus flinched at the sight. He wanted to turn and swim away as fast as he could, but the thought of Alec made him braver.

“You said you could give me what I wanted.” Magnus said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Lilith trailed her fingers across the shelves lining her walls. “I can.” she mused. “You want me to turn your tail into legs, so you can go onto the land and be with your prince.” She gave Magnus a keen look. “What makes you think he even wants to be with you?”

Magnus swallowed. “I think— he likes me.” he said hesitantly. “When we met, I think he was holding back, because he was scared of— of feeling too much. If he wasn’t scared I think things would be different.”

Lilith laughed. “So sweet, Magnus.” She smiled at him. “I can give you legs, but it will cost you. I can give you a potion to drink, which will cause your tail to change into human legs. But once on land, I can make no guarantees that the prince will love you, legs or no legs.

“You will have five days, and five days only, to win the prince over. If he rejects you, and marries another, your heart will break and you will die, and your body will dissolve into seafoam. Do you understand all this?”

“I understand.” Magnus whispered.

“And then there’s the matter of payment.” Lilith went on. “In return for my services, I want just one small thing. A trifle, really. I want your voice.”

Magnus flinched back, one hand instinctively going to his throat. “My- my voice?”

“Yes, your voice.” Lilith said. “I’m not going to make this easy for you, Magnus!” Her eyes gleamed at him. “True love must be fought for, not just given away without a second thought. If you could speak, well, you could just walk up to your prince and explain everything, and he’d just kiss you straight away. No, it must be genuine true love, or the charm is worthless. Now that you have heard all the risks, are you still willing to go through with this?”

Magnus swallowed. But he had already made his choice, hadn’t he? He could die if he went through with this. But the alternative was to waste away in the ocean, year after year, while his heart withered inside him. And that was a sort of death as well.

“Yes.” Magnus said, and his voice didn’t shake. “I am willing, and I would still be willing if you had asked for much more.”

“Brave little merman.” Lilith purred. “How devoted you are.” She turned away from him and pulled out a large scallop shell from under the table. This she placed on a shelf built into the coral wall. She began to open the stoppered shells around the room, pouring ingredients into the potion. Magnus watched her work, heart thudding. The mixture in the shell turned from murky grey, to black, to blood red.

“Your voice now.” Lilith said, turning to face him.

Magnus nodded. He lifted his chin, trying to not feel as if his throat was about to be cut. Lilith reached towards him, her hand closing lightly around his throat. She drew it back, and Magnus felt a harsh tugging sensation, like his vocal cords were quite literally being ripped out. He choked, pressing a hand to his throat. For the first time in his life, he understood the sensation of drowning.

Then it was over, and Lilith opened her cupped hand over the shell. Her hand looked like it was empty, but there was a white flash, and the potion became clear as water.

Magnus tried to speak, but no sound came out. His voice was gone. There was a weight of despair threatening to crush him, but he forced it away, thinking of Alec. Don’t look back.

Lilith poured the draught into a thin spiral shell and snapped on the lid. She handed the vial to Magnus, lips drawn back to show her sharp teeth. “Swim to the surface tomorrow before sunrise, sit yourself down and drink this. But remember, Magnus,” she said, eyes glinting, “five days, and no more.”

Magnus nodded. With the vial clutched to his chest, he swam away from Lilith’s house as fast as he could. The waving polyps shrank back from the potion he held and didn’t grab at him as he swam past them. He sped over the white coral and bones, and up into the clearer water.

He paused for a moment to gaze at his father’s palace, with its windows lit by glowing mosses. His heart ached at not being able to farewell Cat and Ragnor, but they would only try to stop him if they knew his plan. Magnus kicked towards the surface, ignoring the weight on his heart and staring resolutely ahead.

The sky was the chilly grey of pre-dawn as Magnus surfaced. He swam towards the palace and crawled up onto the beach nearby. Opening the vial, he stared at the liquid inside, shimmering alluringly.

Without hesitating, Magnus drank it in a single draught. Then he dropped the vial, gasping as a burning pain went through his whole body. It felt a sword was passing through his heart, like his tail was being slashed to ribbons on the sharpest coral. He wanted to scream, but his voice was gone, and he could only gasp, pressing his forehead against the sand as the pain rose up in waves.

Everything went black for a moment. When Magnus came back to consciousness, the first thing he was aware of was the sand prickling his scales. No, not scales. Skin.

He looked down and saw two long legs stretched out in front of him. Smooth brown skin, so much more sensitive than his scales. Magnus held one out and wiggled his toes in fascination.

Legs. He had legs.

Magnus touched the sides of his neck gingerly and found that his gills were gone. He was human. He was human, and the next thing to do was to find more humans.

He pulled himself up on a rock, took his first step, and promptly fell over.

Lying full length in the sand, Magnus realised that walking was going to take some time to master. He felt annoyed at the idea. Humans had always made it look so easy.

He pulled himself up again and tentatively tried another step, this time concentrating on his balance. This time, he managed half a dozen before overbalancing and tumbling to the ground.

Magnus scrambled up again, and then froze. There was a person coming towards him along the beach. His heart leapt wildly as he realised it was Alec. His eyes were downcast and he hadn’t seen Magnus yet. Magnus tried to call out to him, forgetting that his voice was gone. It didn’t matter, for at that moment Alce, now quite close, looked up and saw him.

He froze, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. For a long moment they just stared at each other.

“Magnus?” Alec said, in a shocked, strangled voice. “Why— how—” His face was burning, eyes darting back and forth between Magnus and the ground. “Why are you here? How do you have legs? ” His face, if possible, became even redder. “Why aren’t you wearing anything?”

Magnus was so overjoyed to see him he forgot everything else, forgot the pain and his fear and the fact that Alec was getting married. He started towards Alec, but in his eagerness his still-shaky legs wobbled and he lost his balance. Alec lunged forwards instinctively and caught him before he hit the sand.

For a moment, Magnus found himself cradled against a warm, solid chest, with strong arms around him. Then Alec seemed to realise what he was doing and leapt back, shoving Magnus away. He stumbled and would have fallen again if Alec, looking ashamed, hadn’t caught his arm. He steadied Magnus, very pointedly looking anywhere except his body. Alec pulled off the blue coat he was wearing, wrapping it firmly around Magnus. It was long enough that it reached his knees, and he pulled it closer around him, relishing the warmth of the fabric, the lingering smell of Alec. Alec hadn’t seen the ring he was wearing, and Magnus quickly worked it off his finger, letting it drop into one of the coat’s deep pockets. He wasn’t sure why, but something told him to hide the ring from Alec, at least for now.

“Why are you here?” Alec asked again. His breathing was a bit slower, but the flush remained in his cheeks.

Magnus stared up at him, trying to say with his eyes what he couldn’t with his voice. As the silence dragged on, Alec’s face creased in concern. “Magnus, what’s wrong?” A gentle hand turned Magnus’s chin up and Alec studied his face worriedly. “What’s happened? Can’t you speak?”

Magnus shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. A look of pain crossed Alec’ face at the sight of him crying. For a second, it seemed as though he would embrace Magnus. Then his eyes darted around the beach, as if remembering where they were, and his arms dropped. He looked around helplessly.

“I guess you’d better come up to the palace.” he said finally. His voice was heavy.

Magnus nodded, fighting back tears. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured their meeting going. He hadn’t exactly expected Alec to sweep him off his feet and kiss him right away, but he’d been picturing something slightly warmer than this. Alec looked as if he just wanted Magnus to go away.

Three days, he thought, the words settling like stones in his mind.

Alec began to walk up the beach, indicating with his head that Magnus should follow. He took a few unsteady steps, but seeing Alec had made him feel shaky all over and his new legs refused to cooperate. He stumbled and Alec steadied him again.

“Is walking difficult?” Alec asked. Magnus nodded, staring at the ground.

Alec hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. He scooped Magnus up, sliding an arm under his back and the other behind his knees, and set off up the beach. Magnus was too surprised to race for a second, then he carefully put his arms around Alec’s neck and leaned against his chest. Alec tensed up but didn’t flinch. He carried Magnus toward the palace, moving easily despite the uneven sand. Magnus started up at the imposing building as they approached.

Alec carried him over the sand dunes and onto the grass, and set him down as they reached the stone path leading to the palace gates. The guards at the door let them in at a word from Alec, and then Magnus found himself entering a human dwelling for the first time.

For a moment, he was dazzled by the high painted ceilings, the gleaming polished floors and the corridors that seemed to stretch off in every direction. Then Alec was pulling him off to the side, and speaking to some people who had appeared as soon as they had entered— palace servants, Magnus guessed. Then he was whisked away, and before he knew what was happening he found himself in a warm bath in the middle of a luxurious marble bathroom.

Magnus stretched out in the bathtub and considered his next move. Things were not going quite as well as he’d hoped. Alec sort of seemed like he wanted to get rid of Magnus as quickly as possible. At every moment of their brief conversation, Magnus had sensed Alec teetering on the edge of a cliff of sheer panic, like he was afraid of his own feelings. Still, he had carried him up the beach, which was something.

Magnus stared up at the ceiling, trailing his fingers through the water, which was warmer than anything he’d ever felt before. He would win Alec over somehow. He had to.

The servants had left out clothes for him. Putting on the human garments was a complete mystery to Magnus, and it took several instances of trial and error before he figured out what went where. There was a soft linen shirt, and a pair of trousers made of a thick red material, plus a pair of boots. He put Alec's coat back on as well. Staring at himself in the mirror, he decided that he looked more or less presentable.

Magnus left the small room he’d been shown to and moved quietly through the corridors, trying to orient himself with the palace. He heard voices and followed the sound to a wide room looking out over the sea. He recognised the sound of Alec’s voice before entering the room, and stepped inside cautiously.

Alec was standing with his back to the door, talking to someone— someone Magnus recognised. It was the blonde woman Magnus had seen on the ship several days ago. Also in the room were a dark-haired woman with black eyes who looked so much like Alec that Magnus guessed she was his sister. She was sitting on a settee with a blond man who looked about Alec’s age. They both looked up and seemed to start at the sight of him. The blonde woman also caught sight of Magnus over Alec’s shoulder and stopped talking, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

Alec turned. When he caught sight of Magnus, he froze for a split second— so quick that Magnus wouldn’t have seen it if he’d blinked. A look of panic crossed his face for the briefest instant and was gone, smoothed over by an expression of forced calm.

“Magnus.” he said, and there was only the slightest tremor to his voice, barely noticeable. He took a step towards him. “Are you feeling better?”

Magnus smiled and nodded, hoping this was a good start. A smile flickered across Alec’s face and he took another step towards Magnus, then seemed to realise everyone in the room was watching him. He hastily stepped back and quickly turned to the woman beside him. “Magnus, this is Lydia, my— my fiancée.”

Magnus wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the dark-haired woman across the room give a small sigh. He also hadn’t missed the way Alec had stumbled over the word ‘fiancée’. Nor, it seemed, had Lydia. Her eyes cut towards Alec for the briefest second, a look of— regret?— on her face. Then her smile returned. “Magnus, so nice to meet you. Alec’s told us how he found you on the beach. Were you shipwrecked?” She touched his arm sympathetically. “That must have been terrifying.”

Magnus looked over at Alec. So, he thought, you’ve let them think I’m a shipwreck survivor. Alec wouldn’t meet his eyes, staring fixedly at the ground.

If Lydia noticed the tension in the room, she ignored it. “Magnus, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. We’re happy to have you.” She smiled brightly at him, then turned to Alec. “I’m going to go check that the musicians have all the music they need. Can you talk to the captain and confirm the route we’ll be sailing?”

Alec smiled at her. “Of course.” It was a very forced smile, but she pretended not to notice. Alec and Lydia both left the room, leaving Magnus alone with two complete strangers.

“Jace, shut the door.” the dark-haired woman said instantly. The blond man complied with her order, and then they both turned to Magnus. The woman advanced on Magnus, and he took an involuntary step back. He wasn’t scared, exactly, but she was an intimidating presence.

“So,” she mused, studying him. “Magnus, is it?”

She surprised him by throwing her arms around him in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Magnus hugged her back, feeling stunned. She pulled away and looked at him. “We need to talk. I’m Isabelle, by the way. Alec’s sister. That rogue over there is our brother Jace.” The blond man waved at Magnus.

Isabelle led him over to one of the plush chairs and gestured for him to sit. She took the seat facing his and Jace leaned over the back of her chair. Both of them were watching him intently.

“So, Magnus.” Isabelle started. “Three days ago, my brother Alec was washed overboard in a storm and nearly drowned. He showed up on a beach claiming to have no memory of what happened to him. Now you show up, possibly shipwrecked in the same storm, and Alec brings you straight to the palace. He also somehow knows your name, despite you being unable to speak or write, as he tells us.”

She leaned forward, looking at him keenly. “I’m thinking there are a few things Alec is keeping from us. Am I correct?”

Magnus nodded emphatically. Isabelle looked up at Jace triumphantly. “I told you so”. She turned her attention back to Magnus. “Have you and Alec met before today?”

Magnus nodded again, feeling a sense of relief at being able to tell someone. Isabelle raised her eyebrows. “Intriguing.” Her expression became more serious. “You’ve probably figured out that Alec and Lydia are getting married.”

Something struck at Magnus’s heart. He nodded again, keeping his eyes downcast so they didn’t see the glimmer of tears.

“The wedding’s in five days—” Isabelle began.

“ Supposed to be in five days.” Jace cut in. “You’re forgetting the ring.”

Magnus looked between them quizzically, and Isabelle explained. “The wedding’s scheduled to be in three days, but there’s a bit of an issue with the rings. See, the tradition is to swap family rings when there’s a royal wedding. So our parents had a ring with our family symbol specially made for the wedding. But they gave it to Alec to look after, and he….well….”

“He lost it.” Jace said bluntly.

“Lost it.” Isabelle said. “Or got rid of it deliberately, we don’t know. He’s being cagey about it. Won’t tell us for sure.”

Magnus’s stomach swooped. He wondered what Jace and Isabelle would say if they knew that the ring in question was currently hidden in the pocket of the very jacket Magnus was wearing.

“Without the ring, no one’s really sure what to do.” Isabelle said. “Everyone’s still working on the wedding preparations, but if we don’t find the ring in time, the wedding will probably be delayed. So as you can imagine, our parents are not pleased that Alec’s lost it.”

Magnus kept his features still, but his mind was racing. He had the ring-- the ring that Alec had thrown away. What would happen if he produced the ring? Would Alec be angry that Magnus had hidden it? Or would he be angry at Magnus for finding it and allowing the wedding to go ahead? Did Alec want the wedding to go ahead?

“It’s an arranged marriage.” Isabelle went on. “Neither of them particularly want it, but our parents arranged it, and it’s a strong political move. I know Lydia would rather not— she told me she’s in love with a man back in her kingdom, but he’s a commoner. They’d never be allowed to get married. And Alec is….well……”

“Alec’s not really into women.” Jace supplied helpfully.

“We think.” Isabelle added. “I mean, we’ve never really discussed it. He’s never really let us discuss it.” There was an unmistakable sadness in her voice, and Magnus instinctively reached out and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, giving him a sad smile. “But now you’re here. When you came into the room just now…. I’ve never seen Alec look at anyone like that before. Ever. It’s like you’ve unlocked something in him.”

Magnus looked up at her, feeling a spark of hope. Maybe he hadn’t made a mistake by coming here.

Isabelle squeezed his hand again. “I think Alec likes you, Magnus. Really likes you. Loves you, even. And that’s why I’m happy you’re here, because I think having you around might help him realise what a horrible mistake he’s making. This marriage is our parent’s idea, but Alec hasn’t put up any sort of resistance to it. He’s just going to be miserable all his life, and so will Lydia. It’s not fair on them. Or you.”

She gave him a long, searching look. “Do you love him, Magnus? Do you love Alec?”

Love him? Magnus thought. I gave up my tail and my legs for him. I gave up my home and my family. I’d do anything for him, and even after all that, he might not even want me around.

But he couldn’t say any of that, so he only nodded again.

Isabelle’s face broke into a bright smile. “I knew it.” She looked up at Jace. “I think if we keep talking to Alec, he’ll realise he’s making a mistake and that he really wants to be with Magnus.” She squeezed Magnus’s hands, giving him a reassuring look. “I can’t promise it’ll work. But at least we’ll have tried.”

And if it doesn’t work, I’ll die, Magnus thought. But he couldn’t say that out loud, so he only smiled back at Isabelle with all the hope he could muster. The next few days would decide his fate. Either he would win Alec’s love and be free to live his life beside the man he loved. Or he would die, broken-hearted, unable even to explain what had happened to him.

Four days later, Magnus was in despair. He’d taken every opportunity he could to be alone with Alec— in the hallways of the palace, out on the balcony, on the beach. Every time, Alec had steered clear of him, citing some sort of wedding preparations he needed to oversee. He’d made sure Magnus was fed and clothed, and had told the head housekeeper, Elisa, to give Magnus anything he needed. But he’d otherwise done everything he could to avoid Magnus.

It was as if Alec had decided that, having committed to an arranged marriage, he needed to ignore Magnus’s presence, or else he would call off the engagement with Lydia.

Time and time again, Magnus felt a surge of frustration that he couldn’t speak. If he could have just confessed his feelings to Alec, told him how he felt, he was sure he could bring the prince round to him. But he couldn’t speak, and two days was not enough time to learn to write, or to work out anything but the most rudimentary of sign language.

After every botched meeting, when Alec pushed past him, or pretended not to see him, Magnus’s heart sank lower and lower. The design of the palace was such that Magnus could hear the noise of the sea from every room, and the sound made him shiver with the thought of turning into foam on the waves.

On the evening before Alec and Lydia’s wedding, Magnus could stand it no more. He ambushed Alec in the corridor, grabbed his hand and forcibly dragged him into an empty room. Alec seemed too surprised to resist. Magnus shoved the door shut and turned to face Alec, looking at him with, he hoped, everything he wanted to say on his face.

“Magnus.” Alec said, in a sort of weary exhale. “You can’t— you can’t be here. I don’t know why you came here, and I’m sorry I can’t— can’t give you what you want. But I’m getting married tomorrow, and seeing you— I mean, I can’t— ” He broke off, jaw working as he stared off into the distance. Magnus waited.

“I know you’re hurt.” Alec said in a more controlled tone. “It hurts me too.” There were two bright spots of colour burning in his cheeks, and Magnus could see how much it cost Alec, how much shame it caused him, to say even that. “But I’m going to be the king one day, Magnus, and I have— obligations— I can’t just throw my whole life away for you.”

Throw my whole life away for you. Magnus’s eyes stung. That was exactly what he had done for Alec. If only Alec knew.

Magnus tried to speak then, his throat burning as he tried to force a single sound out of his vocal chords. He mouthed the words desperately, trying to say something. Anything. A plea, a supplication. Alec’s name. One word. That was all he wanted.

No words came. The only sound he could make was a desperate, wheezing exhalation.

There was shame and sorrow in Alec’s eyes as he looked at Magnus. “I-” he began, and for a wild second Magnus thought he might be about to say I love you.

“I’m sorry.” Alec said softly. He blinked hurriedly, and left the room without looking back, walking like someone in a daze.

Magnus sank to the ground, putting his hands against the cool marble floor. Tears, hot as blood and salty as the ocean, splashed onto the cold stone. Merpeople didn’t— couldn’t— cry, and this was the first time in his life Magnus had ever shed tears. He shook with silent sobs, unable even to make a sound while he cried.

Later, after he’d cried himself out, Magnus sat quietly in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. He’d got it all wrong. Coming here had been a mistake, the worst mistake of his life. A mistake that would now cost him his life, because of his foolishness.

Magnus pulled Alec’s ring from his pocket and sat looking at it. The small gold circle was heavy in his palm, winking softly in the fading light. Magnus closed his hand around it as another tear spilled down his cheek. Looking out the window, he could see Alec out on the beach, staring at the ocean with his back to the palace.

Magnus got to his feet and walked slowly through the hallways until he reached the heavy oak door of Alec’s room. It was opposite the one Magnus had been given and he didn’t know if that had been deliberate on Alec’s part or just a cruel twist of fate.

Magnus slipped inside the room, cool and silent in the encroaching twilight. He crept to Alec’s bed, veiled by blue silk hangings, and pulled them aside. He knelt beside the bed, and for a single moment pressed his face into the silk pillow and breathed in the scent of Alec. Then he slipped the ring under Alec’s pillow and stood up. He walked away, trying to ignore the grief that magnified with every step he took. If Alec couldn’t— wouldn’t— love him, Magnus wasn’t going to fight it anymore. He would stand by and watch Alec get married, and accept his fate quietly.

Magnus went back to his own room, so cold and silent, except for the soft lapping of the waves. The sound of the sea, always so soothing to him, now sounded like a death knell. He thought he could already feel his body dissolving into foam.

Magnus curled up on his bed, wrapping his arms around himself. He closed his eyes and tried to savour what little time he had left.

When he woke the next morning, Magnus simply lay there and stared at the wall. He felt like there was a two-tonne stone pressing on him, weighing down his entire body. The whole world looked bleak, like a grey curtain had been thrown over everything.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, huddled under the blankets, but after a long time he heard a noise of footsteps outside. Then the door was roughly flung open and someone hurried over to the bed.

“Magnus.” Isabelle hissed. She shook him, not exactly gently, and Magnus rolled over and glared at her.

“Alec found the ring.” Isabelle went on. “The wedding’s going ahead.”

When Magnus didn’t react, she crouched down, trying to look into his eyes. “Magnus, we have to do something.”

Magnus shook his head, turning his face away. He’d given up, and he didn’t want to be dragged back into the agony of false hope.

Isabelle was staring at him like she’d realised something. “Magnus, did you…. did you have the ring all along?”

Magnus glanced up, then away, trying not to meet her eyes. Isabelle gasped. “You did, didn’t you? You had the ring and then you put it where Alec would find it.”

There was no use trying to deny it. Magnus nodded.

Isabelle threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t believe this. You can’t just give up, Magnus.”

Magnus made a dismissive gesture with his hands. It’s over. He wished Isabelle would just leave him alone and let him die in peace.

She crouched down, getting right in front of Magnus so he couldn’t ignore her. “Listen, Magnus," she said. “I’ve spent all morning arguing with Alec, telling him to call off the wedding. He won’t listen to me. But he loves you. I’m sure he does. The only thing holding him back is fear

Magnus tried to ignore her words, but something stirred inside his chest. It was the faintest glimmer of hope-- weak and flickering, but alive.

And suddenly he believed Isabelle. He couldn’t give up. Maybe he would still die, but he’d die knowing he’d done everything he possibly could to save himself and Alec.

There was a knock on the door, and Jace poked his head in. “They’re loading supplies onto the ship. We need to go, Iz.”

Magnus gave them a confused look, and Isabelle explained. “The wedding is being held on one of the royal ships in the middle of the ocean, just like the engagement party was a few days ago. Which seems irresponsible considering that said engagement party was interrupted by a storm that nearly destroyed the ship, but whatever.”

“It’s tradition.” Jace said. “And it’s not supposed to storm for the next few days. But it means that we have to move fast.” He looked at Magnus. “The ship is sailing in two hours, and you need to be on board when it does.”

“Our plan is to help you sneak on board and hide until the wedding starts.” Isabelle added.

Magnus looked between their faces. Jace looked serious, Isabelle determined. They meant it. They were serious about helping him. He felt a wave of unexpected gratitude, followed by resolve.

This wasn’t over yet.

The ship was impressive, even larger and more ornate than the last one Magnus had seen. It was moored in the palace harbour and people were hurrying up and down the gangplank, carrying trays of food, chairs, musical instruments and flowers. Magnus was reminded, oddly, of the coral reefs he’d grown up around, with shoals of fish swarming over the reef.

In the end, getting onto the ship turned out to be surprisingly easy. There were so many people rushing to get everything done before the ship sailed that Magnus simply blended in with the confusion and slipped aboard. He followed the directions Isabelle had given him and headed below deck, into the ship’s hold.

It was quite nice down there, among the wooden beams of the ship, with light filtering in through the slats of the planks above him. Isabelle had promised she would come and tell him just before the ceremony began, so all he had to do was wait.

Magnus found a comfortable spot amongst the ship’s cargo, where he was well-hidden from anyone who might come down unexpectedly. He pressed his back against the hull of the ship, feeling it rock gently. It was peaceful, soothing, and eased some of the tension in his body. He settled down to wait, hoping he wouldn’t be discovered.

He was woken, some hours later, by someone calling his name. Rocked by the motion of the waves, he’d fallen asleep, slumped against the ship's hull.

“Magnus!” Isabelle called again, and Magnus got to his feet, stumbling for a moment with the movement of the ship. Isabelle was at the entrance to the hold, evidently having come down to look for him. She had changed into a dark red dress for the wedding, her hair intricately threaded with pearls.

The wedding. The thought sent another stab of fear through Magnus. This was his last— his very last— chance. It was getting close to sunset. If Alec turned him away again, it was all over. He had nothing to lose.

Magnus held out his hand and let Isabelle lead him up the stairs, into the tiny corridor that led out onto the main deck. The door at the end of the corridor had a wooden grille set into it to let in light, and Magnus moved closer to it and peeked through.

The main deck of the ship had been set up with rows of chairs, most of them already occupied by wedding guests. The space had been decorated with white banners draped from the rails and flowers wreathed around the mast.

“The wedding’s starting in a few minutes.” Isabelle whispered to him. “Wait here until Alec and Lydia are both at the altar, then come out.”

Magnus nodded to show he understood, and Isabell gave him a quick hug before slipping out the door to take her place at the front of the deck.

Magns waited, heart pounding and palms sweaty. He heard music begin, from the quartet of musicians in the stern of the ship, and then the guests were taking their seats and a priest in a white robe was opening his book at the front of the deck. Then Magnus's heart skipped a beat, because Alec was there, taking his place in front of the priest. Magnus drank him in, dressed in a white military suit and looking every inch the prince of Magnus’s dreams. Alec looked beautiful, but caged, like a cornered animal searching for an escape route. His eyes kept darting around, like he was looking for something— or someone. Magnus’s heart lifted, hope buoying him up like a wave.

Lydia appeared, beautiful in a shimmering pale gold dress, and swept up the aisle to join Alec. He took her hand, with only the slightest tremble of his own, and the priest cleared his throat. The music died away, and the guests leaned forward expectantly.

Magnus took a deep breath, steeling himself with every scrap of courage he had left. He pushed open the door and stepped out onto the deck.

There was a split second when no one noticed him. Then Alec’s head snapped up, staring at Magnus with a look of absolute shock on his face. Magnus could literally see the blood rush to his cheeks in a blush, the way his eyes widened. Magnus was dimly aware of the guests murmuring and exclaiming, Jace putting a hand on Alec’s shoulder, Isabelle’s fingers twisting nervously as she watched. But he saw all of them in periphery only, his focus never leaving Alec. He was staring at Magnus, face frozen, unblinking.

Come here to me, Magnus thought, trying to somehow reach Alec’s mind through the turmoil of the moment.

Come on. I know you feel what I feel.

You can be happy. We can be happy.

Lydia dropped Alec’s hands and leaned in to speak to him, but Magnus was too far away to hear what they said. She cupped the back of his neck, smiling at him reassuringly, and Magnus’s stomach twisted with uncertainty.

Alec turned to face him, his expression unreadable. They were separated by nothing more than a dozen metres of wooden planking, and yet Magnus couldn't bring himself to take a single step.

He didn’t have to. Alec was moving towards him, every step firm and sure. The Queen, his mother, rose to speak to him, but he pushed past her and kept going. And then he was reaching out to Magnus and catching the front of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss, and Magnus’s world shattered into a thousand bright beautiful pieces. He gasped into the kiss, his first kiss, unlike anything he’d ever imagined. Alec’s mouth was sure and strong and so warm, kissing Magnus with an earth-shattering intensity. Magnus’s legs felt weak all over again, and he clutched at Alec’s shoulders in an ecstasy of love and gratitude and relief. He kissed Alec back for all he was worth, his heart singing.

Finally, Alec broke away from him with a gasp. He looked dazed, hands still clutching Magnus’s shirtfront, soft pink lips— Magnus now knew how soft— parted.

“Magnus.” he breathed.

Tears filled Magnus’s eyes, and this time he didn’t try to hide them. “Alec.” he whispered, voice cracking.

Alec’s eyes widened. “You can talk again.” His eyes darted around, like he was only just becoming aware of the dozens of people staring at them. Magnus glanced around. It was eerily silent. Isabelle and Jace were grinning widely, Lydia smiling. Everyone else seemed to be in a state of shock.

“What did I just do?” Alec murmured, glancing around.

Magnus cupped the back of his neck, caressing gently. ‘You saved my life.”

“Unfortunately,” said a voice behind him, “he wasn’t quite quick enough.”

Magnus’s stomach dropped as he realised the wedding guests' looks of horror weren’t only because they’d seen him and Alec kissing. They’d also been staring at something behind them.

“Hello, Magnus dear.” Lilith said. “How lovely to see you again. And is this you prince? How sweet.”

Magnus turned slowly, his stomach sinking. Lilith had curled herself along the foredeck, like the carved mermaids that adorned the front of some ships. She must have hauled herself up out of the sea while Magnus had been distracted by the kiss. Her eyes were full of a terrible, vengeful glee.

“Who are you?” Alec demanded. Without seeming to realise it, he’d put himself between Lilith and Magnus, shielding him with his body.

There were murmurs and small cries of shock from the assembled guests as Lilith smiled down at Alec. “Ask Magnus.” she purred. “Ask your brave little merman.”

Magnus suddenly gasped and fell to his knees, his throat burning. A scalding pain shot through him and he cried out, hands clawing at the deck.

“Magnus!” Alec’s horrified cry cut through the pain as he rushed to Magnus’s side. An arm slid behind his shoulders, steadying him, and Alec eased him into a sitting position. His eyes were wide, terrified. “Magnus, what’s happening?”

“I made a deal.” Magnus gasped out. “I bargained with her…legs in exchange for my voice…” Another wave of agony washed over him and he slumped against Alec, dizzy with pain.

Alec’s head whipped round to stare at Lilith. “Whatever you’re doing to him,” he hissed, “stop it.” Jace and Isabelle were at his side now, the three of them forming a barrier to shield Magnus.

“I’m not doing anything.” Lilith said silkily. “Magnus did this to himself.” She pointed to the horizon, and Magnus’s heart sank as he saw that the sun had disappeared fully beneath the horizon.

“Too late.” Lilith said, with fake sympathy. “Didn’t I tell you, Magnus, you only had five days?” She laughed openly at Alec’s expression of horror. “You were too slow, little prince. If you’d made your mind up only a few seconds sooner, Magnus would have been fine.”

Alec turned white. “No.” he whispered. He clutched Magnus’s hands, and Magnus could feel him shaking. “No, please — Magnus, I’m so sorry — I didn’t know— please be alright—”

Magnus wanted to say something to comfort him, but another rush of pain had him nearly screaming. His vision blurred as he slipped out of Alec’s arms, writhing against the deck. Was he turning into seafoam? He could barely see, all his nerve endings burning.

Everything was hazy and confused. Alec was bending over him, trying to soothe him, his tears falling onto Magnus’s face. “Magnus, please don’t go, I’m so sorry— I only just found you, don’t leave me, please—” He pulled Magnus into his arms again, cradling him, rocking them back and forth. “Tell me what I can do. Tell me how I can fix this.”

“Marry me.” Magnus choked out, lips pressed to Alec’s ear. “Marry me right now.” He didn’t know where the words had come from, but an instinct deeper than the sea rose up inside him, telling him that this was somehow what he needed.

“Okay.” Alec whispered. He lifted his head, calling out to someone. Then the priest who had been officiating appeared at their side, looking rather ruffled. “Your Highness, this is extremely irregular-”

“Just do it.” Alec hissed. He propped Magnus up against his chest, holding him while the priest read from his book. Magnus’s head swam and he only caught a few words— do you take…your lawfully wedded husband… He managed to gasp out “Yes” at what he thought was the right time and felt Alec’s arms tighten around him. He heard the priest ask Alec the same question, heard him answer. Then Alec was holding his hand and sliding a ring— his ring, the one that had started everything— onto his fourth finger.

“I love you.” he breathed into Magnus’s ear. Magnus tried to say it back. He listed sideways, now barely able to see, the pain rising. Tiny lights were blinking out inside his head. He tried to say Alec’s name but his voice faltered and cracked. He thought he could feel his flesh dissolving, becoming foam on the waves.

The last thing Magnus heard, before the darkness took him, was Alec pleading with him, his voice breaking. “Magnus, no, please don’t go, I can’t lose you, stay with me, stay with me —

Magnus woke on a bed of soft silk cushions, to the sound of gently lapping waves. He peeled his eyes open, the lids feeling sticky and sore. There was a silk canopy above him, shielding him from the sun, and when he turned his head he realised that he was on the marble deck at the back of the palace.

“Magnus,” said a familiar voice, and then Alec was kneeling down in front of him, his face a mix of relief and concern. “How are you feeling?”

It was so similar to how they’d first met that an involuntary smile touched Magnus’s lips. “I thought I died.”

There were tears in Alec’s eyes. “So did I. You went limp in my arms….It was the most frightened I’ve ever been.”

“Then how—” Magnus tried to sit up, and that was when he realised that his legs, still a novelty to him, weren't quite working properly.

Because they were gone. His legs were gone, and his tail had returned. Magnus stared down at himself in shock. Numbly, he touched the side of his neck, and found that his gills had returned. He was a mer again.

His voice sounded weak and thin to his own ears. ‘I don’t understand.”

“Allow me to explain.” said another familiar voice, and Magnus nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Hello, Father,” he said weakly.

Asmodeus, who had apparently just surfaced from the water, raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised you even acknowledge me as your father, after that stunt you pulled with Lilith. She told me everything— came right into the palace and just told the whole story. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was almost pleased with how things have turned out.”

Alec’s hand came to rest protectively on Magnus’s back. “Um, Magnus, who is this?”

Asmodeus glared at him. “I’m your father-in-law, boy. Show some respect.”

“Oh.” Alec said. He glanced between them, appearing to make the connection. “It’s very nice to meet you, uh, sir.”

Asmodeus rolled his eyes, then resumed glaring at Magnus. “As for your query, Magnus, I can explain why you’re not dead. In all probability, you should have died—”

“Thank you, Father.” Magnus muttered.

“—but for an unexpected magical loophole.” Asmodeus continued. “Something neither Lilith or I could have predicted, for all that we know about magic.” He steepled his hands, looking between the two of them. “You two got married. It was a rush job, and I doubt the wisdom of your decision—”

“Father, please.” Magnus said wearily.

“But nonetheless, you were married.” Asmodeus went on. “Your souls were bound together.” He gave Alec a disdainful look. “By tying yourself to this…. human, you were protected from the curse which Lilith laid upon you. The magic couldn’t work.”

Magnus felt an enormous lifting of hope in his chest. “Truly? I’m not going to die?”

“It would seem not.” Asmodeus said. He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re free, Magnus. Free to stay with this land-dweller, if that’s what you want. I would call it inadvisable, but you never did listen to me.”

It was the closest thing he would ever get to a blessing from his father. Magnus nodded, his face breaking into a smile. “Thank you, Father.”

“Yes, well.” Asmodeus sniffed. “If it all goes horribly wrong, don’t come complaining to me.” With that, he dove underwater and was gone.

There was a few seconds of awkward silence, then Alec cleared his throat. “Your father seems— nice.”

Magnus snorted. “You don’t have to lie to me, Alec.” He looked over at him, and caught Alec’s smile. Then, unexpectedly, they were both laughing, the sort of laughter that only comes from a huge release of tension. Magnus went to crawl closer to Alec, then remembered his tail. The laughter died on his lips.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asked, instantly concerned.

Magnus looked down at his tail, feeling sorrow well up in him. All that effort, and he was back where he started: a merman. Not human like Alec was.

“Magnus.” Alec said softly. He turned Magnus’s face up to look into his eyes. “Are you worried because you’re a merman again? Do you think I don’t love you?”

Magnus dropped his eyes. “You said yourself you were going to be king,” he mumbled. “How are your subjects going to react if you’re married to a mer? I mean, I’m half fish. There are probably a few people who wouldn’t like that.”

“I’m not going to be the king anymore.” Alec said, and Magnus’s head snapped up. “My parents and I had a long talk while I was waiting for you to wake up.” He winced, and Magnus suspected that this conversation had not been entirely pleasant.

“They’re not happy, exactly,” Alec went on, “but there’s not a lot they could do. We did get legally married.” He took Magnus’s hand, thumb brushing the ring on his finger, and Magnus smiled.

“Anyway,” Alec said, “I’m officially abdicating. Isabelle’s going to be the queen one day instead. It’s what she’s always wanted, and she’ll be a lot better than me at it. And Lydia’s gone back to her kingdom with her parents. She told me she’s not getting married until she’s the queen, so she can change the law and marry who she likes.” He smiled. “I hope it works out for her.”

“What did she say to you at the wedding?” Magnus asked. “I was too far away to hear.”

Alec’s smile became fonder. “She told me that it was okay. That she’d seen how I looked at you. That I was allowed to be happy.” He took Magnus’s hand in both of his and kissed it, and Magnus’s heart melted.

“So…?” he began, hardly daring to hope.

“So I’m free.” Alec said. “I’m free to do what I want. And I want you.” His cheeks flushed as he realised how he’d phrased the last statement, but us eyes never left Magnus’s.

Not scared anymore, Magnus thought. He clasped Alec’s hands, pressing them against his chest and feeling the warmth flow through him. “I want you too.” he breathed. “Now, today and forever. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you, my Alec.”

Alec’s face lit up. He leaned in, tentatively, and Magnus met him in the middle. He didn’t know how it was possible, but their second kiss was even better than the first, quieter and gentler and comforting. Magnus broke the kiss and slid his mouth from Alec’s lips to his cheek, then his ear.

“Can you take me into the water?” he whispered, and Alec wasted no time in lifting Magnus up again, just as he had when they met on the beach. He carried Magnus down the marble steps and into the ocean, and joined him without having to be asked. His wet shirt stuck to his chest as he swam towards Magnus and wrapped his arms around him again, settling comfortably into his embrace.

They held each other in the water, soft ripples around them from the movement of Magnus’s tail. One of Alec’s hands was at the small of his back, the other wrapped around his shoulders. Magnus had never felt so safe, or so loved.

“I can’t believe we got married.” he whispered, stroking Alec’s hair. “You saved me.”

Alec kissed the juncture of his neck, making Magnus’s chest feel fluttery. “You saved me first. I can’t believe how brave you are, my treasure." His eyes were wet, and looking at him made Magnus’s heart feel so full he could hardly stand it.

Magnus kissed him again, and Alec gave a little groan against his mouth. Their first kiss had been desperate and brimming with emotion, their second sweet and comforting. This was neither. It was hot and wet, and salty from the sea, and Magnus opened his mouth wider, trying to drink Alec in, revelling in this new way of kissing.

Alec gave a low gasp, burying his face in Magnus’s neck. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

“In a minute.” Magnus murmured. “Just want to stay here with you for a bit.”

Still holding Alec, he swam them out a little further, out to where the coral reefs glittered underwater like jewels. He turned them in a slow circle and Alec leaned against him, solid and warm and real, everything Magnus had ever dreamed of. They drifted together, two small figures wrapped up in each other, in a love as vast and deep as the sea that surrounded them.

#malec #alec lightwood #magnus bane #tsc #shadowhunters #cassandra clare #magnus lightwood bane #alec lightwood bane #the shadowhunter chronicles #malec fanfic #malec fanfiction #animalec fest 2023 #isabelle lightwood vibes #jace herondale #tsc fanfiction #merfolk #man this chapter was a struggle to write

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imherongraystairstrash · 1 year

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you’re fics are my fav and im feeling absolutely empty after chot so im BEGGING for a charlotte and matthew fic…literally anything i would read about them sitting in silence at this point im desperate

Ahh thank you so much! I'm so honored that you enjoy my fics so much <3

I'm sorry it took me a while to finish the fic, I had a bunch of random ideas and I had to figure out how to thread them together, but I'm happy to finally present this fic to you and I hope it helps mend your heart, just a tiny bit :)

**Major CHOT spoilers; Don't read this if you haven't finished Chain of thorns!!***

Open your heart

"What happens when people open their hearts? They get better."

-Haruki Murakami

...

It felt strange sleeping in his old house with his parents again, but Matthew couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his flat alone.

No. Matthew couldn’t sleep in his flat alone. He’d realized this at Kit’s funeral when the sudden realization of Christopher’s death had finally sunk. Before, with all of the trouble Belial had stirred up, there hadn’t been time to mourn. To truly process what had happened; Matthew and James were in literal Hell, trying to find a way to save their world. To save their loved ones.

But, on that cold winter’s day, dressed in all white, the sudden wave of pain threatened to suffocate him. Matthew realized that he would never see Christopher again. Kit, who had been a friend since before Matthew could remember. Matthew didn’t know how to live in a world where Kit wasn’t there, in constant need of supervision and protection. Memories flooded his brain, memories of Christopher collected by Matthew throughout the sixteen years they had known each other.

Matthew felt his world crashing before him. His palms began to sweat, despite the cold, as he watched the fire rise high. Suddenly, he felt his mother’s hand find his own. She held it tightly as they both watched the pyre burn.

“Come stay with us for a while, Matthew.” She whispered. “Just until you’ve had time to grieve, if you’d like. But I’m worried for you, and I want to be able to help you.”

Matthew thought of James and Thomas. He knew that if he stayed by himself in his flat, his friends would want to help and stay with him so that he could slowly stop drinking. But he didn’t think that was fair to them, especially since they were greatly suffering as well.

So Matthew nodded, leaning towards his mother, ever so slightly, as if she might protect him from the pain he felt in his heart.

Since then, Matthew was slowly remembering what it was like to let himself be loved. After telling his parents his secret, he felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Of course, he still felt guilt over what he’d done to his unborn sister; he didn’t think there would ever be a day in which he didn’t feel that pressing guilt on his conscience. But knowing that his parents still loved him, even after he’d told them what he’d done, made it easier to start forgiving himself. Moreover, getting through every day was significantly easier: he’d train with James and Thomas, spend time watching Henry work in his crypt, help him mother with daily tasks, even though she kept insisting that just because she was pregnant, it didn’t mean she was incapable of doing something as simple as going down the stairs.

“Might I remind you that I fought in the Clockwork war while I was pregnant with Charles,” Charlotte said, throwing Matthew a fond look.

“And might I remind you how he turned out.” Matthew pointed out.

Charlotte scowled, “Don’t be cruel towards your brother.”

Matthew should have known that if his mother could still love Charles, despite all of his flaws, she would have loved him, even after she found out about his secret.

Tonight, however, Matthew was not all right. He’d been laying in his bed when all of a sudden he’d begun feeling as if he were suffocating. He’d thrown open the window, breathing in the icy winter air in between gasps. He stood there until he was shivering and covered in goosebumps. Even then, he still felt destabilized. He looked around his room, dread filling his lungs. It seemed his mind wouldn’t stop replaying every horrible memory he’d ever experienced. He was drowning in the past, each image coming sharper than the last. He wanted nothing more than to drink and numb the pain. To make it fuzzy and unrecognizable so that he could tolerate it. Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw tightly as if he could shut the world out if he tried hard enough. He ground his teeth together so tightly he felt his jaw crack.

Suddenly, he felt a soft tuft of hair on his fingers. Matthew opened his eyes to find Oscar, who had been laying in Matthew’s bed, beside him. As he looked at Matthew with his big round eyes, he managed to calm the boy down, just enough for Matthew to slowly make his way to the parlor.

Matthew sunk down on the couch, Oscar laying down by his feet. Matthew already felt calmer at the change of scenery, no matter how small that wave of calm was. He leaned over, letting his head hang as he rested his elbows on his knees.

You don’t need to drink, he told himself. You’re all right. You do not need to drink.

Matthew clenched his fists, feeling the bite of his nails against the sensitive skin of his palm, hoping that the pain was enough to bring him back down to earth.

Matthew clenched his fists even harder, digging his nails deeper into his palms when he heard a thumping sound—Oscar tail wagging against the wooden floor—accompanied by light footsteps sounding from the hall. Matthew looked up to find Charlotte standing by the doorway, a hand resting lightly on her lower abdomen, her face worried.

“Matthew,” She said, making her way towards him. “Are you all right?”

He heard her gasp as she put her hands over his arms. “Matthew, Matthew darling, stop.” He could hear the desperation in her voice as she begged him to stop, to unclench his fists. Matthew looked down and saw that his hands were full of blood. Slowly, he opened his fists, looking at the blood caked under his nails and at the deep grooves they left behind on his palms.

He was vaguely aware of his mother taking his head on her arms, holding him tightly as she whispered words of endearment in his ear. He knew she was crying from the slight tremors in her voice and the occasional soft droplets weight that fell on his hair, which he knew were teardrops. Charlotte pulled away slightly, holding his face in both of her hands. It was strange to see his mother with tears in her eyes; she hated crying in front of others.

“Darling, why would you do that?” She asked, her voice cracking.

Matthew shrugged, even though his eyes were full of tears. He tried to turn his face away from her so that she wouldn’t see him crying, but Charlotte only sat beside him and put a hand on his back, knowing perfectly well that something was bothering him.

“What’s the matter, darling?”

A single tear slipped away from Matthew, which was a catalyst of sorts for an entire waterfall of tears to flow. Charlotte put her soothing arms around him and he clung to them as if he were a child again, his tears came in large waves that pulled at his heart. He didn’t want to get his blood on his mother’s nightgown, so he kept his hands in front of him, his wrists on his knees.

“It’s difficult, Mama,” he said finally, “It’s so incredibly difficult to stop. All these years I’d been running away from my pain by drinking and now I have to confront them and it’s harder than I could have possibly imagined. But I know I owe it to Christopher, to Jamie and Thomas, to you and Papa to stop and—”

Charlotte pulled away, grabbing hold of Matthew’s head in between both of her hands. “Matthew, you owe it to nobody but yourself. You deserve to be loved. You can do things because you want to be healthy, not because you want to please others.” She kissed his forehead. “I wish you thought yourself deserving of happiness.”

Matthew bit his lip. “Kit also deserved happiness. And instead, he’s gone.” Matthew wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “It’s not fair, Mama,” He said in between tears, “He didn’t deserve to die. He had so much to live for.”

“I know, darling,” She said, rubbing circles into his back, “Nobody should die so young. And no mother should have to bury her child. But if there’s one thing I will never forget about Christopher is that he was always happy.” Charlotte said to a watery smile, “It was infectious really. He reminded me a lot of your father.”

Matthew nodded, putting his head on her shoulder.

“Christopher lived a full life, Matthew. He did everything he had set out to do and, unfortunately for us, the Angel decided that that was enough, that his life’s purpose was fulfilled and that now he could rest both his mind and spirit.”

Matthew huffed a laugh, “Kit is incapable of resting his mind.”

Charlotte smiled, “His form of resting is by learning. And he’s slowly discovering the secrets of the universe, I’m sure. We can only learn so much on Earth. Imagine all that he must be learning in the afterlife.”

Matthew managed a wobbly smile. “He’s probably jumping out of his skin at some rainbow fungi he found somewhere.”

Charlotte laughed. “And in between each of his discoveries, he’s probably watching over us.”

Matthew turned to look at his mother, and smiled at her. Charlotte’s eyes softened and she pressed a long, soft kiss on his forehead.

“Stay here, darling,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

…

Charlotte rushed to get a water basin, a clean rag and a stele. She relaxed when she saw that Matthew was still in the parlor, smiling softly at a sleeping Oscar. She quickly set everything down and wet the rag. She sat down beside Matthew once more and motioned for him to give her one of his hands.

As delicately as she could, Charlotte began cleaning away the dried blood caked on his hands. Matthew winced as she dabbed as lightly as possible over his wounds from where the blood had come from.

Once she finished with his left hand, she rinsed the rag in the basin before starting on the other.

Matthew watched her placidly as she cleaned, his expression blank.

“All done,” Charlotte said, setting the rag in the basin and reaching for her stele. She drew up Matthew’s sleeve, trying not to despair over how thin he’d gone these past few weeks due to his alcohol withdrawal.

She was about to draw an iratze rune when she suddenly froze. Across Matthew’s arm there were thousands of tiny scars, many of them overlapping. She glanced up at her son in surprise. Matthew, confused, looked down at his arm, catching sight of what caused Charlotte’s reaction.

“Oh,” he said, as Charlotte ran the tips of her fingers over the new scars that trailed up Matthew’s arms. “Those are new.”

“When did this happen?” She asked, her voice coming out soft. The unasked question hung in the air between them: did you do this to yourself?

Matthew shook his head, even though Charlotte didn’t ask a yes of no question.

“I got them in Edom,” he said. “James was trying to heal me.”

Charlotte put a hand on his cheek. “From what?”

Matthew told her, each word piercing Charlotte’s heart like a million little needles.

Matthew seemed to notice this. “You don’t have to worry, Mama,” He said, “I’m getting better.”

Charlotte looked down and drew two quick but careful iratzes on his forearm. “I know, darling. But I’ll always worry, for I love you.” She finished off the iratzes and kissed Matthew’s cheek. “And because that is simple what mothers do.”

She stood and straightened her nightgown. “Now then, I think it’s high time we go to bed.” She held her hand out to Matthew and smiled at him when he took it.

...

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