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Captive Angels; Victorious Demons

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Remember to read the author notes above for chapter warnings! Read the prequel "Tales from Idris" for details on some of the events described here

Chapter 1: Preface

“The scars are made, they're changing the game. You learn to play it hard.” ( Whole World Is Watchin, Within Temptation)

Alexander Lightwood had been only two years old when Valentine Morgenstern had first rose to power within the Clave. Valentine had created a group, a political movement, called the Circle. The Circle believed fanatically in the superiority of the Nephilim race due to their angel blood and sought the complete destruction of all demon-blooded creatures and thus all Downworlders. The Circle viewed Downworlders as inferior, pests that had infected this world, and considered it their Holy mission to ensure they got exterminated. At first Valentine’s stand against Downworlders had by the majority been seen as radical but the Circle had gained more and more members, including Alexander’s own parents.

An attack on Shadowhunters, allegedly carried out by Downworlders, turned the tide and Valentine ended up being a majority voice within Idris. His political opponents started to disappear and rumors of inappropriate behavior, some substantiated, some not, regarding his opponents helped clear the way for him to become ruler of Idris and thus all Shadowhunters. A handful of Shadowhunters remained in opposition against him; a secret rebellion within the highest ranks of Idris itself. The rebels were hunted mercilessly and brutally tortured to death for their betrayal if they got caught.

Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, accepted an invitation from Valentine to try one last time to find a peaceful solution to the growing conflict and increasing skirmishes between Shadowhunters and Downworlders all over the world. The invitation had been strongly initiated by Jocelyn Fray and Lucian Graymark, Valentine’s wife and parabatai. They still believed in and hoped for peace between Idris and the Downworld. However, things hadn’t gone as planned. Valentine would later claim that Magnus had tried to kill him, leaving him no choice but to capture him and the men he had brought with him. Magnus himself had become Valentine’s personal plaything. Valentine had become obsessed with finding out who was plotting against him in Idris and was certain Magnus would know the names of these traitorous Shadowhunters as well as the location of the Warlocks who had gone into hiding. Of course, as matter would have it he was right on both accounts. Finally, he wanted to exploit the dark powers of Edom and believed Magnus, a Prince of Edom, would know these secrets…also true though Valentine would never know it.

Months passed and Valentine tried all manners of torture, including killing the men Magnus had brought with him one by one. Just when Magnus had been about to break a young Shadowhunter child had accidently come by his cell and the boy’s kindness and purity of spirit had helped Magnus to carry on, not to break. He had never known the boy’s name but the way the boy had found his cat eyes lovely as he himself loved cats had been endearing. Unknown to Magnus this young boy had been none other than Alexander Lightwood, a Shadowhunter who would grow up to become one of the most cunning and thus dangerous generals in Idris’ army in the war against the Downworld – his military genius rivalling only by Magnus’ own.

After five months of pure agony Magnus Bane had been rescued but at a high price; hundreds of Downworlders had been killed. The rescue had only been made possible by two high ranking Shadowhunters revealing themselves to the world as being a part of the rebellion; none other than Jocelyn and Lucian.

Jocelyn and Lucian had escaped with Magnus and the surviving Downworlders who had come to Magnus’ aid, together with Clarissa, the young daughter of Jocelyn and Valentine. To avoid Valentine tracking them and to gain the trust of the wary Downworlders Lucian had been turned into a werewolf and had quickly defeated the ruling alpha to become the new leader. Jocelyn had undergone the same transformation and they now ruled the werewolf community together. Magnus had cast a spell on Clarissa to hide her from Valentine and she would be turned as soon as she reached 18 years old; until then living as a Mundane though with full knowledge of the Shadow World and her own past to ensure she was ready and could defend herself. Jocelyn had ensured the continued survival of the Downworld by bringing with her the Mortal Cup. Magnus had seized the cup and had chosen to keep it safe; it could control demons and create new Shadowhunters and being on the brink of a war that would likely result in the devastation of either Idris or the Downworld it was somehow comforting that should the Downworld win there was always a way to give the Nephilim race another chance should Magnus so choose at some point in the distant future.

To this day Magnus Bane was the only prisoner Valentine had never broken. However, the months of physical and mental torture at Valentine’s hands and the hands of his military personnel ended up serving Magnus well – he now understood his enemy better. Magnus had quickly gained a reputation for being ruthless and cold-blooded, cunning and cutthroat in his approach to the war against Idris in a way he hadn’t been before his ordeal.

Alexander Lightwood grew up in Idris, a realm now tainted with darkness and hatred where anything different was feared and loathed. Yet Alexander was an unusual boy – curious, insightful, questioning and maybe most surprising of all – sensitive and compassionate. He was the only one to question the instructors and ask why: Why do the Downworlders need to die? Why are they not worthy? Why are we at war? Why do they have to suffer? Why do we treat them so poorly? Why can’t they have the same rights as us? For each why he would get punished, his father and his instructors wanting to bleed the insolence out of him. Each time he bore it and kept wondering, kept questioning.

When he was 12 years old Alec’s curiosity made a hard life much much harder. He had been with a boy he had been growing up with, sparring with during training, Andrew Underhill, a boy who, like him, had a softness, a kindness to him, that hadn’t yet been broken. Alec had known for a long time he wasn’t like other boys; girls held no interest for him. He also knew being interested in boys was considered wrong and forbidden – harshly punished as Valentine needed soldiers and saw same-sex relations as weakness and against the will of Heaven. Alec and Andrew had been sparring when Alec had covered for a mistake Andrew had made, earning him the punishment that should have been Andrew’s. No one had ever done that for Andrew before; his family had been killed fighting the Downworld army and only his family name had kept him on the officer track for Valentine’s army. Alec had long considered if Andrew also held no interest in girls and got his answer when Andrew had visited Alec at his home and, thinking they had been alone, he had surprised Alec by giving him a quick kiss on the lips. They kiss had been chaste and innocent and had not been sexual in any way. Simply Andrew saying thank you in a manner he knew by now he could do with Alec and only Alec. Sadly Alec’s mother had seen them and that had been when everything had changed. Maryse Lightwood had needed to save her family name and had found a solution for Alec’s “problem”; binding him to Valentine’s son as his parabatai was sure to beat the softness out of him. Andrew, on the other hand, had had no one to cover for him. While Alec’s sexual preference had been hidden to save his family name Andrew had been publically shamed and his life had been forfeited since then. Shadowhunters considered him less worthy than Downworlders, a traitor to his own kind, and beatings and rapes became common place for Andrew. Only his name and skills ensured he still maintained a role in Valentine’s army – though technically a part of the same unit as Alec he officially held no rank and no insignia; he had no say in anything and would again and again be shown just how little his life was worth. He was the expendable one; the one sent out ahead to scout for the enemy. He was the one anyone was free to take their frustrations out on. After all…with a steele he could be broken over and over again and still be used again the next day.

Andrew and Alec, being of the same age, had never known anything other than war and the war lasted for another 16 years; until they turned 18 and everything changed again.

Andrew never spoke about what had happened between Alec and himself but kept the few moments he still got with Alec, the kindness in his friend that somehow had still survived, those moments kept him going. Everything else broke for the young man until there was nothing left of him, but those moments of kindness with Alec kept him from giving up. Right after they had been caught there had been months of torment, being broken and then healed again, where no one spoke Andrew’s own name to him and if he said it himself he would be punished. After months he was in doubt what his name was. If Alec had not risked everything to sneak into his room, help him heal and tell him his name until they were both crying in relief and agony, he would till today not be sure what his name really was. Alec’s kindness over these years, the only kindness anyone ever showed him, prevented Andrew from giving up and as a result there was absolutely nothing Andrew wouldn’t do or suffer for Alec.

Valentine raised a boy, Jace, with brutality and cruelty. The boy was literally beaten to become the perfect mirror image of Valentine; punished severely for any sign of weakness until the boy understood never to show compassion, mercy or kindness of any kind. Jace was at his 10th birthday gifted a parabatai by his father – Alexander Lightwood. Jace had from the start been able to expertly close off his end of the bond so Alec could only sense and feel the slightest hints at very rare instances from his side of the bond. On the other hand, Alec wasn’t very good at closing off his side of the bond and his feelings of compassion and warmth presented Jace with quite the dilemma; either try and force those feelings out of Alec himself to spare him from Valentine or let Valentine discover them and unleash the same amount of brutality on him as he had on Jace. Jace would try to teach Alec to adapt his own disregard for feelings but all Alec learned was to hide his feelings better – play pretend. He never managed to learn to kill those ‘weak’ emotions called love, compassion and concern.

Valentine would call Alexander falcon. Not because Alexander was a skilled archer, which he was, but as Alexander would painfully learn, because he had replaced a pet Falcon Jace had had. Whenever Jace did something wrong, Alexander would be punished. Whenever Alexander failed he would be punished. Valentine had no tolerance for mistakes or weakness and demanded perfection of his son – and the same from his parabatai.

However, it was simply not possible for the brown-haired boy to keep up with the pure angel-blooded warrior. The worst was when Valentine wanted to show his son how a specific torture method or assault worked; showing it on Alec would ensure Jace could see how it was done and the parabatai bond gave him information on the effectiveness of the chosen method; the pain and humiliation his opponent would suffer – all the while leaving Jace in perfect physical shape to go out and carry on Valentine’s war for him.

After Alec had become Jace’s parabatai it was rare Valentine punished Jace physically anymore – Jace was Valentine’s son and as such an extension of his power. Having him walk around bruised now he was considered of age, ten being the age one could engage in active combat, would not bore well for his powerbase. Thus Valentine had accepted Maryse’s deal of silence regarding Alec’s sexual orientation in exchange for Alec being Jace’s parabatai – and personal whipping boy. Valentine was a cruel and demanding leader even at the best of times and the war effort had increasingly gone poorly, putting Valentine in an increasingly foul mood and needing someone to punish for his own failings. Over the next six years Alexander learned how to take a beating like he had never thought possible.

There were few bright moments for Alexander – when he saw his sister he could smile, when he saw his little brother he could laugh. When in public Jace acted like the son Valentine wanted; brutal, cold and cruel, also towards Alec. He would belittle him, punish him if he failed, laugh at his shortcomings. But despite all that whenever possible Jace would choose the lightest punishment or punish someone else instead of Alec if it was doable without it being seen as weakness or mercy. When they were alone Jace would sometimes allow himself to be a different person. Never open about his feelings, he would see that as weakness, but…softer, almost considerate towards Alec. It was very rare but there had been a handful of times where, after Jace or Valentine had punished him, he would come to him afterwards and would heal him, comfort him, even allow Alec to embrace him or comfort him in turn if Valentine had said something particularly spiteful to Jace if he hadn’t performed up to standard. However, Jace had been raised to believe compassion was weakness so many a time when Alexander had tried to reach out for him he had instead been met with a fist.

During his years living in Valentine’s household the only kindness Alec ever got was when Jace choose to heal him after he had been punished. Sometimes Alec would miss that comfort so much he deliberately failed or spoke out of turn in public, knowing Jace would be forced to punish him, just in the hope Jace would come to his room late that night to offer to heal and comfort him. Alec had over the years come to care deeply for Jace, taking the beatings in stride in return for the little comfort he was able to offer him. It was a complex and unique relationship but Alexander had convinced himself of the merit of the bond between them and was mostly just happy he wasn’t alone.

16 years of war had not been kind on Magnus Bane. He had lost friends and for each victory he gained, he lost a little bit more of his soul – to fight a monster he had become a monster. Heavy is the head that wears the crown and no one felt that more keenly than Magnus Bane.

Magnus had known early on he would need to ally the Downworld if not Valentine would succeed in annihilating them all. The power vacuum left by the Clave had meant infighting among Downworlders and that was not an option if they were to survive. Being a Prince of Edom he had quickly gained control of the Warlocks; the community was ruled through bloodlines and none matched his father’s blood. Lucian, now called Luke, owed him for saving his lover and her child. With a little help Luke had defeated the ruling alpha and become leader of the werewolves as the community was ruled by strength and whoever was stronger than the ruling alpha was the new ruler and thus Magnus had gained the support of the Lycans. The vampires had been taking advantage of the chaos and none more than Camille, the current leader; Mundanes and werewolves as well as vampire enemies seemed to die like flies around her. Camille was ruthless; Magnus could use that. Sadly for her, she was also uncontrollable and refused to ally under him. Thus he had helped set a trap for her so Raphael, his adopted son and one of the few people Magnus trusted explicitly, could take her out and thus Raphael had become the head of the vampires. The Warlocks would fight for a piece of the war spoils, the werewolves would fight for territory, to protect their young and their pack and the vampires fought for their leader and their way of life. The most challenging to convince had been the Seelies. For years the Queen had played both sides and Magnus’ army had suffered great losses and hardships but had managed to stand their ground but with limited advancement. However, Valentine had forgotten that Downworlders thrived in the darkness; the more he tried to break them with the suffering of their loved ones the more enraged the survivors became. And how Valentine did try to break them; his prison camps were a living hell where death was a mercy. Valentine experimented on select prisoners, adding to the agony, torture and pain they were already put through. No one were spared the camps if captured alive by Valentine's army; even Downworlder children were experimented upon, tortured and eventually killed when they were no longer useful. The thirst for revenge had united vampire, werewolf and warlock and the Allied Downworld army had gained ground, painfully, slowly, paying for each victory in blood and death but they had advanced. The tide of the war had started to turn ever so slowly and the Seelies had started to realize that they were running a huge risk if they kept offering help to Idris. However, the Queen had wanted to play things out, to wait as long as possible with choosing sides. Magnus didn’t have the time or patience for that. He had helped a young knight, Meliorn, seize power and kill the Queen (or rather ensure she got killed as Seelies never outright killed their own). The new King now owed Magnus a debt, a huge debt, and Seelies always paid their debt. Thus, the Seelies had joined the Allied Downworld army.

Then, finally, after 16 years of bloodshed, murder, pain, death, torment and agony on both sides the war seemed to be about to reach a conclusion. Slowly, agonizingly so, Magnus’s forces had conquered more and more Shadowhunter Institutions until only a handful were still standing – as well as Idris itself.

Magnus had waited till Valentine had sent his elite forces from Idris to protect the New York Institute, one of the last Institutions still standing, before he had made his move. He had surrounded Idris and started his siege, having his Warlocks bombard the capital city of Alicante constantly, over and over and over. The assault was merciless and continued for three full weeks. Now, at the start of the fourth week, there was no doubt Alicante was mere days away from falling as the magic holding the Allied army out was fading more and more, starting to fail and give.

The elite forces sent from Idris to New York had been under the command of Jace Morgenstern as Magnus had expected. His forces had been good, in no small way thanks to his officers, in particular Alexander Lightwood whose military genius was the only one that even remotely could match that of Magnus Bane. However, luckily for Magnus Alexander didn’t call the shots – Valentine did – and Magnus had been outmaneuvering him for years as the man always underestimated Downworlders whereas Alexander never did. Jace, like his father, suffered from a similar affliction of arrogance and superiority when it came to his military decisions. After defending the New York Institute for three weeks the Institute finally fell. Magnus had given orders he wanted as many officers captured alive as possible for questioning but most of the high ranking officers from the elite forces and from the Institute itself chose suicide over capture. This was not uncommon as Shadowhunters preferred death to being at the mercy of a Downworlder, the inferior race, and they believed in Valentine’s vision completely; not wanting to live in a world where his vision could not be realized. Furthermore, the Shadowhunter officers knew well the painful fate awaiting them if they were captured; a small retaliation for the genocide, torture and torment Downworlders had been subjected to since Valentine had started his war. However, the Allied Downworld army still managed to return to Magnus’s mansion and the absolute seat of power for the Allied Downworld forces outside of New York, with 13 captured Idris officers. Among the captured officers were some of the most high-ranking officials the Allied forces had yet captured alive – well, at least until Alicante’s expected fall. The list of prisoners were impressive and Magnus wanted to see these prisoners for himself. The list included, among others, Jace Morgenstern, Isabelle Lightwood, Alexander Lightwood and Andrew Underhill.

Chapter Text

See the author's notes for chapter warnings

 

Chapter 2: The deal

 

“Take your breath til nothing's left. Stars of life upon your chest.” ( And We Run, Within Temptation)

 

Magnus’s mansion outside of New Year was glamoured from Mundane eyes and lay surrounded by forest and with a large open plains with horses nearby, all of the land belonging to Magnus. It was a huge estate with a main wing and multiple side wings, all built in 18 century Victorian style. The main building had several stories and several balconies on the top floor overlooking the courtyard; one from the main living room, one in Magnus’s huge bedroom and another balcony was attached to his private study.

The prisoners had had all their weapons removed, including their steeles and had all been bound with magical bindings on their hands and feet. The wounded had been scantily bandaged and the more severe wounds had been magically sealed. Using portals the prisoners had arrived at the courtyard within a few hours of being captured and tended to. A red ring like magical fire around two meters tall had been erected around the prisoners to ensure they couldn’t escape.

Alec had given his sister a loving hug, Andrew a warm heartening embrace and his parabatai an encouraging smile before he had insisted, quite forcefully, that he needed to be taken to the leader of the Allied Downworld forces to discuss terms of surrender in private with him, ignoring Jace’s protests that only he could conduct such a discussion. Magnus Bane had been surveying the prisoners from the balcony of his study and he instantly recognized the handsome general who stubbornly insisted on seeing him, repeating the request over and over though the guards in the courtyard were ignoring him. His loving gestures towards the other Shadowhunters were not only unusual for Shadowhunters but also in sharp contrast with the death and devastation the man had caused his army, making Magnus intrigued despite his better judgement. He called for Raphael and asked him to bring Alexander to him in his study, ignoring the vampire’s warnings and protests.   

“My Prince, the prisoner you requested,” Raphael said formally as he came to a stop around two meters from him as he pulled the prisoner with him to Magnus’s study by a firm grip on his arm.  The prisoner wasn’t fighting it though but was instead looking around the study curiously. It was kept in Victorian style with heavy wooden panels, paintings of landscapes and people Magnus had known back in the day. There were floor to ceiling bookshelves, a trolley functioning as a bar, an old globe made in wood, a heavy wooden desk with a huge elaborate chair with a red leather seat and a huge balcony behind it with large double doors, facing the courtyard. Four guards were standing against the wall in the study, one in each corner. Two were Seelies, one werewolf and one vampire. Magnus himself was seated in a large leather chair in the corner of the room, a martini cocktail in one hand, his outfit dark but glittery with multiple necklaces and he wore makeup and nail polish. While Magnus looked relaxed and leaned back in his chair with his cocktail there was a dark look in his eyes.

Raphael knelt on one knee the way knights would do for a King. Alexander remained standing, unsure what to do until Raphael gave him a harsh pull by the nearest elbow, an warning look in his eyes, as he pulled him down on one knee next to him.

“Thank you, Raphael. You may leave us,” Magnus said with a smile but his eyes never left the prisoner, looking at his battle worn uniform and how he now kept his eyes on the floor, folding his hands over his bended knee.

“Estas seguro [Are you sure]?” Raphael asked with worry, not trusting Shadowhunters one bit. He asked in his native Spanish, thinking the prisoner wouldn’t understand and also to let Magnus know this was not him as a general doubting his prince but him as an adopted son worrying for the man who was like a father to him. Well, being tortured by them would certainly explain Raphael’s wariness around the Nephilim race. Magnus didn’t trust them either for much the same reasons and then some but he wasn’t worried; he knew he could defend himself.

“Sí, y trae a los guardias contigo y hazlos esperar afuera de mi studio [Yes, and bring the guards with you and make them wait outside my study].” Magnus’ voice left no room for debate but his eyes were kind, showing how grateful he was for his concern.

Raphael nodded, “Yes, my Prince.”

Raphael gave the prisoner a warning look as he rose even though he wouldn’t see it as his eyes were downcast. Then he walked towards the door and nodded to the guards as he passed them. They followed him out of the study at once.

Silence filled the room after the door had closed. The prisoner remained unmoving, still looking down. Magnus studied him; he was battle trained and there were strength and purpose in his posture despite his otherwise compliant position.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood,” Magnus finally spoke, using his full given name to let him know he knew who he was. “I was told you requested, quite adamantly I might add, to be given a private audience with me,” Magnus said with something between humor, curiosity and annoyance in his voice and expression, playing with the glass between his fingers before taking a sip.

“Yes, Prince Bane,” Alec replied respectfully, looking up at him. “Is this the correct title?”

Magnus tried to hide his surprise at his question; unusual for Shadowhunters to bother trying to follow Downworlder customs of any kind.

“Well, at least you are better mannered than most Shadowhunters I have met,” Magnus admitted curiously, searching Alec’s face but only found mild expectation and curiosity there as he awaited his answer. If he was nervous or afraid he hid it well but then Magnus expected nothing less of a general from Idris; they were after all taught to be warriors from birth and emotions were considered weakness. Well, unless those emotions concerned any kind of hatred, disdain or disregard towards Downworlders. In that case they seemed more than OK with them.  

“Yes, it’ll do,” Magnus responded. He paused as he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t normally grant such requests but I wanted to talk with you regardless so it works out rather well.”

Alec gave him a curious look, taken back by his words.

“Why?” Alec couldn’t keep himself from asking. Curiosity had always been a weakness of his but at some point if you get punished enough for something, like he had been when he had asked questions, you either give in and let it go or you wear that weakness like a cloth, refusing to tame those desires. Alec had done the latter and that combined with a dark sense of humor – and no small amount of rational thinking - had enabled him to survive Idris with some sense of self, something very few Shadowhunters could claim. 

Magnus raised an eyebrow at him, taken back by the question. To beat Valentine the Downworld had used the social structure and customs well known to all Downworlders; a system not dissimilar to what the Mundanes had used for hundreds of years built on respect, hierarchy and honor. To beat Valentine Magnus had to ensure he had the support of all the Downworlder races and strength in his powerbase was essential to achieve that. Magnus frowned at Alec, not sure if the Shadowhunter was rude on purpose or just ignorant of the customs with the Downworld.

“I can see the issue of manners haven’t been resolved completely.”
Alec noticed the frown on the Warlock’s face and tried to back step; this was not a good start to this debate. In an attempt to make amends he deliberately chose one of the words Shadowhunters were told never to use, in particular towards Downworlders, as it was seen as a sign of weakness.

“Sorry…” Alec began, not sure what he had done wrong. Thinking he knew it he rephrased his question, adding the Warlock’s title, “Why, Prince Bane?”

Magnus shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Alec asked confused.

“No, that’s not why,” Magnus elaborated, not willing to take pity on him to explain his mistake. If he couldn’t figure it out on his own then Magnus would have to rethink his evaluation of the man’s intelligence.

“Hmm…I…” Alec began, thinking. Magnus gave him a piercing look but didn’t seem inclined to add anything else to his statement. “I spoke without permission?” Alec guessed. Damn; he had been punished enough for that in Idris; he should have known better and kept his mouth shut but when had he ever had good at that?

“I can see not all Shadowhunters are dimwitted.” Magnus said humorously with a small smile, nodding when he finally got it. He did a small wave with the hand which wasn’t holding his drink. “Anyway, to answer your question then I owe you for saving little Madzie Loss. I know what you people do to Warlock children who refuse to be used against their own kind.”

At the name Alec looked more intensively at him. Worry and concern again made him speak without thinking, “How is she?”

Magnus was surprised at the question and the real concern for a Warlock child he saw in Alec’s eyes. Magnus was caught between annoyance and amusement when the young man before him again forgot proper protocol. “We will have to work on the whole speaking when allowed to I can see but to make things easier you have my permission to speak freely here.”

Alec bit his lower lip when he realized he had done it again but then smiled a little at the words. “Thank you, Prince Bane.”

Magnus nodded at his words, accepting them in the manner they were given. “She’s fine by the way.”

Alec gave a small smile. “Good.”

Magnus looked at him curiously. Why this concern when he had partaken in the capture and killing of hundreds of his people? He was an unusual one, this one. It was intriguing but also infuriating; it was much easier to deal with their kind when they acted like the brutal, self-righteous and spiteful mini-clones of Valentine he normally dealt with.

“It’s rare to hear a Shadowhunter care,” Magnus said evenly, stating it simply as a fact and not yet passing any judgment on it either for or against the man before him.

Alec shrugged, looking up at him with a neutral expression. “I am a soldier. I follow orders.”
Magnus’ face became dark with memories of all those Shadowhunters who had done just that, resulting in the brutal torture, experimentation and violent death of his people, all his people, all of the Downworld had been plagued by this.

“Yes…convenient excuse, that one, isn’t it?” Magnus said darkly.

Alec thought it best to try and change the topic before Magnus started remembering just how little reason he had to show mercy to Shadowhunters when they had shown none.

“What about me saving Madzie did you wish to talk to me about?”

“First, I am curious, why save her?” Magnus paused, giving him an intense look. “It’s not like your kind have ever minded killing children before,” the words held all his hatred and disgust for the Shadowhunter race; he had few rules for his army to follow; two of the main ones being no killing children and no sexual assault. Valentine though, seeing Downworlders as a plague that needed to be wiped from the face of the planet, had no such problems.

“I saved her because I could,” Alec responded calmly.

Alec had accepted long ago he couldn’t change things in Idris; the majority was for Valentine and any hint of rebellion was severe punished. He had gotten a unique opportunity to save this one child and had taken it. She had been with a group who had been surrounded by Jace’s elite troops while they had done battle to defend the LA Institute. She had not yet been registered or accounted for so no one would notice she was missing. It had not been easy as Valentine had a clear distaste for him, knowing what he was, but he had managed to keep the child hidden within Idris for a few days before he had managed to smuggle her out and into New York, having to leave her on the streets with instructions to use her magic to find another Warlock to look after her. When Alec had returned from New York to Valentine’s mansion he had known Jace would have had to report his unauthorized visit to New York and he knew he would have to punish him for it but it had been worth it. Valentine had decided on the punishment for his unauthorized visit and he had chosen canning and had ordered Jace to carry it out. If Jace had known what Alec had done he had never let on and had never asked; he had simply carried out Valentine’s order with an expressionless face. Alec’s back had hurt for weeks but he had smiled inwardly; this had been his own private victory against Valentine. His silent ‘fuck you’ that he could never voice aloud. 

“And you couldn’t save the others?” Magnus questioned suspiciously. He had seen the broken bodies of Warlock kids; there was always a choice even if that choice meant death then it was always there. Many Warlock kids made that choice instead of being used by Idris to create portals and weapons to be used against the Allied Downworld forces. If they could make that choice then so could Nephilim soldiers.  

Alec shook his head. “Not unnoticed, no.”

“We always have a choice, Shadowhunter. You simply chose wrong regarding the others then,” Magnus said darkly, not willing to believe him.

“You would have saved Shadowhunter children?” Alec asked doubtfully. Valentine’s propaganda machine worked overtime in Idris and painted a picture of the Allied forces as brutal and twisted, engaging in all kinds of horrible and despicable acts.

“Your race barely allows children so it’s quite the hypothetical question,” Magnus gave back, his eyes narrowing at his tone. “But depending on your definition of save then yes, for the most part.” Magnus took a deep breath to calm himself; maybe he really didn’t know what the rules were for Downworlders when it came to the children of their enemies.

“We are not barbarians. We have rules; we obey them. Children would be kept alive, either made a Downworlder or de-runed, memory wiped and left a safe place for Mundanes to find so they can live out their lives as Mundanes,” Magnus explained.

Alec gave him a shocked and suspicious look, doubtful it could be true. “That is indeed a greater kindness than Valentine would ever show.”

Magnus could only nod grimly in agreement to that before he got the conversation back on track. “But regardless of what you should have done then you did indeed save Madzie and for that I owe you a debt and Warlocks always pay their debts.”

Alec raised an eyebrow at him, questioning. “What do you mean?”

“You are one of the top generals of the Shadowhunter armies. I know from my reports on you that you probably didn’t commit any of the war crimes your breed is known for but you never stopped it either. Furthermore, I am well aware that it is your military genius that has propelled Jace’s elite troops to success; hundreds of my people dead, captured, tortured or worse as a consequence.” Magnus took a deep breath to try and stay calm. To aid in that he finished his drink and magically refilled the glass.

“Normally that would mean your life in captivity would be painful to put it mildly,” Magnus continued honestly, no hint of regret for this fact in his voice. The war had been brutal on both sides but the level of cruelty Valentine had installed in as many of his soldiers as he could was chilling. He had made his army believe Downworlders were not people, not worthy of humane treatment, but instead saw them like rats or other pests –to be used as much as possible and then eliminated. The Allied forces had ironically been known to show far greater mercy than the Shadowhunter army; none-combatants were turned into either a vampire or a werewolf or de-runed and left in the Mundane world. Torture was only for officers; common soldiers had no useful knowledge and were either killed instantly or offered to turn and join the Allied forces as a werewolf or a vampire.

“I would offer you a quick and painless death,” Magnus offered as way of payment for him having saved Madzie. It was a better deal than a general who had played such a huge role in securing ground for Idris’ forces rationally deserved but Madzie was the adopted daughter of his long time friend Catarina and thus he was willing to make a grander payment. He had captured enough high-ranked officers should he need to extract information from anyone and baring a miracle the war would be over soon; the last Institutions were predicted to fall within weeks or at latest months and Idris as well, Alicante expected to fall as well within a few days, if they were lucky.  

Alec looked shocked at him at the offer, bewildered he would offer something so merciful to an enemy.

“Thank you, Prince Bane, that is indeed…” Alec paused, trying to find the right word, “generous of you.” It was actually surprisingly generous of him; Valentine would never had offered that to a Downworlder general.

Magnus smiled beneficently as he took a sip of his drink. “Isn’t it?”

Alec took a deep breath to steady himself, knowing it was now or never to try and get what he wanted; why he had asked for this audience. “However, I myself want to suggest a deal.”

Magnus looked surprised at him. “A deal? What can you possibly have to barter for…or with?”

“About what I want….” Alec paused, feverishly hoping he could make this deal. If he had had any faith in the angels he would pray but he had lost his faith years ago. “I was captured with several other high ranked officials. Isabelle and Jace…”

Magnus tried to recall the officers brought before him today; Jace and Isabelle’s names had been on the list, together with around 11 other names. Most Shadowhunter officers, even some of the common soldiers, preferred death over capture, knowing or at least thinking they knew what awaited them were they captured.

“Yes, they are still here,” Magnus acknowledge, unsure where precisely the Shadowhunter wanted to go with this conversation.
Alec drew a relieved breath, afraid maybe they had already been moved elsewhere since he had been taken from them in the courtyard. However, quickly his relief turned to worry. “Are they still safe?”

Magnus was surprised at his obvious concern; not precisely something Shadowhunters were known for being encouraged to do.

“Relatively. Since Raphael got you I could see that Jace seemed quite determined to aggravate my soldiers but luckily for him they fear me more than him,” Magnus said with clear annoyance in his voice; capturing Jace alive had turned out to be a greater headache than he had predicted; likely due to the added strength his rumored pure angel blood gave him. “He is quite a handful; my officers had to dose him with demon blood to get him to calm down,” Magnus explained, having observed the spectacle from his balcony.

“He’s ok?” Alec couldn’t help but ask with concern. He didn’t feel much from him through their parabatai bond other than the fact that he was alive but then Jace mostly had it closed so that didn’t really tell him anything. He flexed his right leg a bit as it was starting to ache slightly from him bending the knee. Magnus could have allowed him to rise but Alec hadn’t expected him to; it would be a sign of weakness to allow him to be standing during this debate and Magnus as Alec knew well from when they had fought over strategical plans on the battle field for their respective men, was anything but weak.

Magnus let his displeasure show; the comfort of Valentine’s prized heir wasn’t really a high priority for him. “Weakened and in slight pain but much less than he should by any rights be.”

Alec didn’t respond to that; there wasn’t anything he could say that would make a difference anyway. Instead he simply looked Magnus straight in the eyes and calmly, politely but in a strong voice said, “I would ask you let them go free.”

Magnus looked shell-shocked but then laughed. When his laughter died he gave him a disbelieving look.

“Are you insane?” Magnus hissed, almost spitting the words out, anger clear in his voice. He had offered the Shadowhunter a quick and painless death and this was how he repaid that offer?! Such insolence!

“She is the daughter of one of the highest ranked families in Idris; your parents’ close involvement and connection to Valentine is well known. They helped plan and organize several of the slaughters your people instigated almost 20 years ago when this war started. They have the blood of my people, of all Downworlders on their hands. In fact, they could bathe in it!” Magnus was yelling now, his voice having risen considerably. Lesser men would have shrunk away from that voice but Alec just looked calmly at him, unflinching. Magnus paused and took a deep breath to calm himself. “And for Jace…He is the son of Valentine. He has personally tortured and killed hundreds of my people. He will under no circumstances go free.”

Alec had known this would not be easy so he wasn’t discouraged. Instead he continued with his plan, his voice calm and not betraying his fear that maybe this wouldn’t work.

“You are winning this war because you have managed to sway the Seelies to your side but you need to solidify that alliance. King Meliorn has been to Idris while they were still our allies and has met my sister. He is quite taken with her. Offer him her as part of his war contribution on the condition he treats her well,” Alec suggested calmly, thinking the easiest one to get Magnus to spare would be his sister.

Alec had met Meliorn a few times when he had visited Idris; he remembered him as a sensual and thoughtful person without any real temper, acting mainly on logic and to advance himself. He would not be needlessly cruel and under the circumstances it was the best solution he could think of for his sister. Magnus was indeed right; their upbringing and involvement with the highest levels of Idris’ society singled them out and from here on out every breath taken, in particularly taken without pain, would be a gift granted to them by someone else. To the victor went the spoils after all. 

Magnus was thoughtful for a moment; not a bad idea actually. He owed the king some of the spoils of war and if he indeed had a liking to this Shadowhunter, one who was a prized possession given she was a high ranked captured enemy…However, he wasn’t stupid. He trusted no Shadowhunter and not this one either.

“She is still a Shadowhunter,” Magnus said matter of fact.
“You could de-rune her; just leave her memories intact,” Alec suggested, putting a hint of pleading in his voice. Without her memories Izzy could just as well be dead; it was her soul that bound them as siblings and not blood.
“It can be done, magically,” Magnus agreed. Mostly after de-runing prisoners, they were also mind wiped before leaving them in the Mundane world, thinking they were Mundanes too. It was safer that way for everyone involved. But it was not a necessity; the runes could be removed without taking the memories. 

“Painlessly,” Alec added hastily, his worry making his tone sharper than he had intended.

Magnus narrowed his eyes at him; he was dangerously close to impertinence. “That is possible but I don’t see why I should do that.”
“Gifting her to Meliorn would help you strengthen your bond with him and his realm,” Alec reminded him. “As I am certain you have thought now too,” he added. He had never underestimated Magnus; the Warlock was as least as good, if not better, a strategic leader as he was.
“True,” Magnus admitted. He looked intensely at the young man bending the knee before him. Amazing how much strength he managed to maintain while doing that. “Now I understand why you were always such a formidable enemy.”

“Well, if Valentine had listened to my plan we wouldn’t have been captured today either so probably don’t get too happy about it,” Alec said evenly, matter of fact, looking him straight in the eyes as he spoke.

“True. Valentine’s weakness has always been his overconfidence.” Magnus took another sip of his drink before looking intensely at him. “I can concede there is some interest in your suggestion regarding your sister but how do you propose to convince me regarding Jace?”

“Jace is my parabatai….” Alec began to explain, having known this would be the most difficult part.
“And I care about that because…” Magnus interrupted him, raising an eyebrow at him while fiddling with his drink in his hand, trying to keep his temper in check. Jace had been a formidable enemy and he owed him nothing but pain; in particular for what he had done to his dear friend Ragnor.
“You don’t. I am simply explaining,” Alec said evenly.

“Alright, go on. So he’s your parabatai so you care what happens to him. Touching. Now explain why I should spare a man who left my friend Ragnor unable to walk after torturing him for weeks; if I hadn’t rescued him he would have killed him. Ragnor would never have betrayed me.” Magnus’s voice was filled with repressed fury and certainty.
Alec nodded grimly. “I know. I told Valentine as much but he still insisted Jace carried on. It is not like Valentine ever gave Jace a choice.” Alec paused, fighting to find the right words. “Jace is not an evil man; he has just been raised in a manner where he learned that any kind of mercy or compassion was weakness.”

Magnus gave him a cold stare. “You are not persuading me by telling me the man is without such qualities.” Not that Magnus had ever thought otherwise; that basically described the whole Shadowhunter race as far as he was concerned.

“But there is some of that still left in him though Valentine tried to force it out,” Alec insisted. He was silent for a moment, thinking about how to explain to best convince him. He settled for honesty and hoped his vulnerability and admittance to weakness would sway the Warlock.

“Valentine would often use me against him. He also did that when your friend Ragnor was concerned,” Alec said quietly, looking down in embarrassment for a moment before looking back at Magnus.

“Use you how?” Magnus asked, intrigued despite himself.
Alec took a deep breath, trying not to let memories overwhelm him. When he spoke his voice almost didn’t shake, it almost, almost, didn’t hold a note of remembered pain and agony. “He would have me tortured, healed then tortured again until Jace did what he wanted. Making us parabatai was his way of controlling him better; parabatai share emotions so Jace would be able to feel what I felt.”

Magnus tried to hide his surprise at this; he really shouldn’t be surprised at Valentine’s level of torturous genius by now. “So your parabatai was Mother Theresa towards you?” He asked skeptically. He didn’t buy that.

Alec hesitated, not wanting to talk about it but he could see Magnus wouldn’t let it drop.

“He punished me when he had to,” Alec admitted. The words brought his more conflicted feelings towards Jace to the forefront; a part of him hated him for the pain he had endured at his hands but he also loved him for the comfort he had offered. It was a confusing mess in his head and he preferred not to think about it.

Magnus took a sip of his drink, enjoying that he had gotten Alec to admit this. He wanted to twist the knife a bit further, make the Shadowhunter himself realize why any deal for Jace was out of the question. “Like what?”

Alec blushed in remembered pain and embarrassment but forced himself to maintain eye contact when he replied, “When I failed or was disrespectful.” From Magnus’s questioning stare he forced himself to add more details, “Normally he would just hit me, break my fingers. He broke my arm once. He also used a whip or a cane a few times; it was a favorite of Valentine’s.”

Magnus shook his head; and this was the man he wanted to be spared! This Shadowhunter was delusional…it was clear someone had really made a mess of his mind and heart. If not the man had been a mortal enemy with his people’s blood on his hands he would almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

“So to get your undying loyalty all I would need to do is beat you?” Magnus asked sarcastically, his words harsh and cruel to make the man realize how ridiculous his plea for Jace’s life truly was.

“What? No!” Alec protested hotly. “What I mean is that Jace would heal me, take care of me afterwards…after the punishment.” At Magnus’ disbelieving look he added, “When he could.”

“Really?”

Alec gave him a stubborn stare. “It wasn’t like he enjoyed it. It was just how he was raised. He was trying to spare me from Valentine; knowing his punishment would be much harsher.” Alec paused before he added, “It wasn’t like not getting punished was ever an option.”

If that was true then it was really rather brilliant; force Jace to torture someone he cared for to spare him even worse torment.

“I must say…Valentine’s evil genius rivals that of most Greater Demons,” Magnus admitted darkly as he turned the scenario Alec was painting over in his mind. He wasn’t sure he believed it but with Valentine it seemed likely. 

Alec nodded grimly. “Indeed.”
“Oh? Not fond of your lord and master?” Magnus asked with glee.
“It’s hard to love someone who seems to take pleasure in seeing you tortured as a way to manipulate his own son,” Alec said honestly.

“Hmm…” Magnus replied, thoughtful. “Well, I guess that makes me a little more partial to you.” He paused. “However, the reasons for Jace’s actions doesn’t excuse what he did and my people would expect justice.”

Alec’s brain was fighting to come up with solutions and his words came tumbling out, “Tell everyone he died in an escape attempt. Then let him go stay with one of the people you trust to watch him…” at Magnus’s raised eyebrow he added, “after de-runing him. He would then be no threat to you but I ask you to leave his parabatai rune and his memories.”

Magnus stared at him in disbelief. “You sure are asking a lot! Are you sure you won’t want my palace now you are at it?” he asked sarcastically.
Alec gave a small smile and his reply showed a sharp mind and dry wit when he replied, “It’s not my style.”

To both of their surprise Magnus actually laughed out loud at that. Then he sobered and gave him an intense look. “You are certainly brave…and intriguing.”   

Alec simply nodded at that, hoping that meant Magnus would consider the deal. “Could it be done?”

“Your idea for Jace? Sure, it can be done. The leader of the werewolves, Lucian, can take him in. His wife and step daughter have been through the same procedure.” Magnus was thoughtful for a while. “I am only entertaining this idea because I am quite certain Jace is not Valentine’s blood relation. I can’t and won’t leave any male heir to the Morgenstern name survive,” Magnus said harshly. The Warlocks were ruled by bloodlines; letting an enemy live with their bloodline intact would be unforgiveable by his community. Valentine’s blood relation, Clarissa, was spared this as she had been turned into a werewolf and had grown up as Lucian’s daughter; only Lucian, Joselyn, Magnus and Clarissa herself knew her true father.

 “Why would you think that?” Alec asked surprised.

“I saw him in the courtyard from my balcony when you were all lead in. His uniform tunic had ripped by one of his shoulders and I saw a birthmark on his shoulder blade I remember Will Herondale had. I am quite certain he is instead the lost Herondale heir.” Magnus was silent for a moment before adding darkly, “Not that it matters much. Imogen was a spiteful bitch back when she was fighting me, during her captivity here and up to and including the moment I had her executed when I believed she would be of no further use to me.”

Alec fought to clear his head; it didn’t matter what relations Jace really had; all that mattered was that he was safe. “Will you agree to it then?”

Magnus was thoughtful. “Given he isn’t the Morgenstein heir I will entertain the idea but only on one condition.”
“What?” Alec asked eagerly.

“As you know we always offer the Shadowhunter foot soldiers a chance to get turned into a vampire or a werewolf and fight on our side instead of being killed when they are captured. Lucian lost a lot of soldiers during the battle with your troops, no small thanks to Jace – your best warrior as I recall.”

“Yes?” Alec prompted, not sure where this was going.

“Well, if I am not to kill him why hide him away and waste a great warrior? I would instead demand he gets turned into a werewolf and joins Lucian. Having him turn and having Lucian be his alpha I can be surer he won’t betray me,” Magnus thought out loud, formulating his plan as he went along.

“I would still lose our parabatai connection then,” Alec said with a frown. He had only survived living in Valentine’s mansion because of Jace, because of the strength from their connection. He needed him if he was to survive now.

Magnus shook his head, not understanding why that would be such a huge loss but went along with it anyway as he saw no harm in it; maybe he could even somehow use it to his advantage that they had a connection.

“I am a Prince of Hell….I can ensure it remains so you can keep the connection,” Magnus simply explained.

Alec nodded and gave a small smile at the thought. “Then it is acceptable.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow at him, his expression between mild amusement, annoyance and shock. “Your arrogance is truly intriguing; no one has dared to speak to me like this for ages. I have not yet decided if it angers or amuses me.” Magnus paused and looked at him with something between amusement and curiosity. “So, is this the part where you tell me what I get out of this deal?”

Alec knew he had to keep his interest a little longer. “Almost. How’s the siege at Idris going?”

Magnus gave him an annoyed look at his avoidance of the question but decided, for now, to play along.

“We will have captured Alicante within a few days. I expect all of Idris to follow soon after.”

“My parents and my little brother are trapped inside the city.”

Magnus shook his head sharply in denial.

“I will make absolutely no deal regarding your parents! If they are smart they will do what most of the Institute leaders did – take poison so they are dead when we enter,” Magnus said darkly.

“And if not?” Alec questioned. He had no love for his parents – they had been cold, distant and cruel towards him growing up – but they were still his parents as weird as that sounded.
Magnus’ eyes narrowed and his voice was cold, making it clear this was not up for debate. “Then I will have them tortured to death, publically, together with Valentine.”

Alec nodded; he wasn’t going to fight him on that. He was aware he was reaching the limits of the Warlock’s patience. “And my little brother?”

“How old is he?”

“He’s nine.”

“My soldiers are forbidden to harm anyone under the age of 10 unless it’s for self defense. I will ensure that if he is alive after we capture Idris he gets de-runed,” at Alec’s look he added, “with his memories intact, and sent with your sister to the Seelie realm.”

Alec nodded in gratitude, smiling relieved. “Thank you.”

“Any other demands?” Magus smirked, making it very clear from his tone of voice that Alec shouldn’t consider adding just one more thing to his list.

“You know…this is the first time I have ever had a prisoner dare to tell me demands….it’s either infuriating or very intriguing. I have not yet decided which,” Magnus said with precisely a look between amusement and annoyance.

Alec hesitated. He had wanted to include Andrew in the deal but was aware he had pushed as far as he could. He feverishly hoped that Andrew would be spared; while he had arrived with the officers as he wore an officer uniform he wore no insignia so hopefully he would be given the same fate as common soldiers and be turned into a vampire or a werewolf and then…then Alec feverishly hoped that fate would be kind to him for Heavens knew; that had not been the case so far.

“No, and those are not my demands,” Alec hurried to clarify. “What I am requesting is a deal with those as my terms.”
Magnus looked frustrated at him, his patience at an end. “So you keep saying. What do I get from all of this?” Magnus could not imagine the Shadowhunter could offer anything that would make him accept this ridiculous deal.

Alec looked him straight in the eye as he replied, “Me.”

Chapter Text

Please read the author's notes for chapter warnings! This chapter contains a sex scene so be warned

 

Chapter 2: I offer me

 

“You were never free, and you never realized.” ( And We Run, Within Temptation)

 

Magnus almost chocked on his drink. “You?” He asked, giving Alec a disbelieving look.

Alec nodded. “Yes, me,” he repeated calmly, his voice even and strong. This wasn’t an impulse decision; he had thought this through and had concluded this was the best scenario, the best way to ensure his family was safe. He had studied Magnus Bane intensely when they had been enemies and his belief, based on how the Warlock had acted during the war, was that Magnus wasn’t cruel or sadistic like Valentine. He wasn’t weak by any means but he wasn’t cruel and Alec could live with that. It would in fact be a huge improvement from living in Valentine’s mansion; it wasn’t just that Valentine was indeed both cruel and sadistic but he also made rules he knew Alec couldn’t keep, knowing he would then be severely punished, he would play mind games with him and Jace and in general every day had been like walking on eggshells; you never knew what might anger him and nothing was ever good enough.

“In what way….you?” Magnus asked slowly, turning the idea over in his head while looking at the Shadowhunter as if inspecting a new horse he was considering buying. “You are handsome, true, but you are asking me to put things in motion which could damage my power base if it’s not done very carefully. Why would I risk that?”

Alec took a deep breath; this part of the deal he was more unsure about but he knew he had to offer more than himself; more than his body. He wasn’t important enough for Magnus to run the risk; he wasn’t stupid. Magnus would need something substantial to take the risk of creating enemies within his own ranks by letting the three of them live; most of all Jace.

Alec looked him in the eyes as he replied so Magnus could see he meant it. “I offer my soul.”

Magnus stared at him in shock for a moment; had he heard correctly? Nephilim souls by default went to Heaven; selling it meant it went to Hell – forever – after death. Once spoken those words were binding and the deal could never be unmade; only transformed. He quickly got over his shock to claim the prize.

“I will take it; souls are the bargain chips of Hell as I am certain you know since you made this offer and no soul is more precious than a soul with Angel blood.” While his voice was calm, Magnus was still in a state of shock and disbelief that he now owned such a prize. It was intoxicating.  

Alec nodded and had to swallow a lump in his throat; how easily he had just condemned himself to eternal damnation. However, his gaze remained strong despite his fear; for his family such sacrifice was worth it.

Magnus gave Alec a curious look. “What about you then?”

Alec shrugged slightly as if the answer was obvious which of course it also was. “I would be yours.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow at him and felt how those words went straight to his cock. Damn, it had been too long since he had had sex if just those words from a Shadowhunter, his enemy, could get such a reaction from him, no matter how handsome that Shadowhunter might be.

“To do with as I please?” Magnus asked with a hint of disbelief and a growing sense of arousal he wasn’t sure he wanted to fight any longer now that it seemed instead of death the kneeling angel would be getting a completely different ending to this day. 

Alec nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Magnus couldn’t held but press with a look daring Alec to back down.

Alec didn’t waver, his gaze was steady, knowing that Magnus was trying to rattle him and not allowing him to. He wanted this deal and he knew the implications of it and he would see it through.

“Yes, to do with as you please,” Alec repeated calmly.

Magnus was silent for a moment, thinking seriously about the offer Alec was making.

“Well, I can’t deny it would be quite a thrill and strengthen my position if everyone saw that I had the oldest Lightwood child kneeling at my feet willingly, bent to my will,” Magnus said thoughtfully and saw Alec look back up at him with hope in his eyes, hope that his deal would be accepted.

Magnus paused, frowning, suspicious. “Is this truly what you want though? I offer you a quick and painless death, with your honor intact which is something I understand you Shadowhunters value quite a lot.”

Alec shook his head. “I want to make this deal,” he stubbornly insisted.

“Why?” Magnus didn’t even try to hide his confusion and suspicion. Offering this deal instead of the offer he had made was contrary to everything he knew about Shadowhunters. Shadowhunters were fanatics; they would never do anything they felt would bring them dishonor, ever. They were after all the race that would often poison their own children instead of letting them be captured by the advancing Downworlder army and raised as either Mundanes or as a Downworlder.

“I value family more,” Alec said evenly, truthfully. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the people he loved and his only regret regarding his offered deal was that he had felt unable to include Andrew in it but he was already trying to consider ways where maybe he could still help him, could ensure he would be safe - finally. After the life Andrew had had almost any fate would be kinder than the daily torment he had suffered back in Alicante. 

“And you would kneel?” Magnus questioned, not believing him. Shadowhunters never knelt before Downworlders. They saw themselves as the superior race, the master race. They would never bow before or serve someone belonging to a race Valentine had claimed to not only be inferior but little better than pests than needed to be exterminated. Painted as evil, demonic and untrustworthy it had been a very long time since any Shadowhunter had ever shown Magnus cause to believe the Nephilim race was anything else than racist, cruel and vindictive. 

Alec had expected Magnus to test him; he would have wanted to do the same had their roles been reversed. His offered deal depended on Magnus believing him, believing his word mattered, that it wasn’t a trick, that he would and could carry through with it.

Alec maintained eye contact as he went from bending the knee, a subservient position that held dignity and strength, a position worthy of the general he had once been while still showing Magnus respect as the conquering party, to fully kneel on the floor before him. When he was down on both knees he folded his hands in his lap, lowered his eyes to the floor and bowed his head; the perfect sign of submission.

Magnus took a deep breath; damn! He hadn’t expected Alec to actually go through with it nor had he expected he would look so breathtaking like this. His demonic half was feeling a growing arousal and need to dominate the kneeling angel; his runes, the sign of his status as a defeated enemy, making the demon in him want to fuck him further into submission until he wouldn’t be able to stand or think of anything else than the fact he now belonged to him. 

“I guess you do know how to kneel,” Magnus conceded, his voice slightly hoarse from growing desire.

Instinctively, unable to help himself Magnus rose and with a wave of his hand his glass disappeared as he walked over to Alec. He was expecting the Nephilim to move or flinch as he got closer but he didn’t. Experimentally he reached out a hand and stroked his brown hair in an almost feather light touch. He had never touched a Nephilim like this before; he had only ever touched them to torture them for information or to kill them. He was surprised at how much the demon in him was enjoying this; enjoying having his enemy kneel before him like this. Again he had expected Alec to move away from his touch and again he didn’t move at all. Hmm….maybe there was possibilities in this. He took a bruising grip on Alec’s hair and pulled his head backwards so he could look at him. Alec allowed the movement without as much as a flicker of discomfort, his hands stayed folded in his lap. Magnus scanned his face, trying to see if there was any trickery. Alec looked up at him, calm, even, nothing but acceptance in his face. Pushing further Magnus leaned down and planted a brutal kiss to his lips. Alec seemed surprised but didn’t pull back. However, he didn’t participate either but simply endured it, not moving, not flinching. Magnus bit into his lower lip, drawing a little blood, wanting to see if he got a reaction; any reaction. Again, nothing. The lack of response made anger fight for dominance over his growing arousal.

Magnus stood up and released his grip on Alec’s hair with a violent movement that had Alec having to catch himself with his hands to prevent himself from falling and hitting the floor. He quickly managed to retake his kneeling position, his eyes, filled with question and hope, again going to the floor.

“It’s an interesting deal, Shadowhunter, I have to admit,” Magnus mused as he looked down at him. “I can see you know how to kneel but if we went through with your deal I would expect you to belong to me in all ways.”

Alec looked up at him expectantly, hopeful. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to spell it out for you? I mean sex,” Magnus said frankly, laughing when Alec blushed.

Alec was quiet for a few moments, turning it over in his head. He had expected as much but still hadn’t really come to terms with what it really meant.

“Ok,” Alec said, nodding, fighting to control his blush but the more he tried the more he blushed.
Magnus raised an eyebrow at him. “Ok, what?”

“Ok also to…to the…sex,” Alec got out, annoyed that he had difficulty even saying it and even more annoyed that he was now stammering and blushing. He had been a general, reknowned for his strategic mindset and now he was acting like a schoolboy because the discussion was on sex and not war.

“Darling, look at me,” Magnus demanded, almost kindly. When Alec did so he continued, “You can’t even say the words. I am not lacking willing bed partners. I have no desire to force myself on you or anyone.”

Alec paled; fearful Magnus was starting to back out of the deal.

“You wouldn’t have to,” Alec quickly reassured him, trying to recapture the moment. He had known Magnus had been sexually interested in him before; he had felt it in his touch and his kiss; he had seen it from the bulge in his pants.

“Have to what?” Magnus asked, wanting to be certain they had clear lines of communication here. He had few rules but those he had he never broke. One such rule for himself and the entire Downworld was that sex was never to be forced; it could be traded, gifted and given away but it could never be forced.
“Force me,” Alec clarified, saying the words Magnus wanted to hear but he remained doubtful of the sincerity of his words.

“Really?” Magnus asked disbelieving. “Last I checked the Clave was very much against same-sex relations. I doubt Valentine made any changes to that law.”

“No, he didn’t,” Alec confirmed and took a deep breath. “But I have known for a long time that I’m…” he paused, blushing.

“Years of repression are hard to forget, aren’t they?” Magnus asked knowingly, a smirk on his face. Alec was the one insisting he wanted this; he would have to be the one to say the words or he wouldn’t go through with it.

“I’m gay,” Alec blurred out, all at once before his courage left him. He didn’t want to feel shame or embarrassment at saying it but he still did; a consequence of growing up in Idris and having heard nothing else than scorn and damnation at being what he was.  

“Good for you, darling, but that’s not quite the same thing, now is it?” Magnus asked sarcastically as he with a hand movement made a new drink appear in his hand and took a large sip. “Besides,” he started to say, giving Alec a piercing look, “What makes you think you can satisfy me sexually?” The Shadowhunter couldn’t even speak of sex; that didn’t bode well for his ability to perform well. He had no desire for a bed partner who was unable to respond or take an active role in what they were doing.
Alec blushed again, not used to people talking this freely about sex.

“I can learn,” he insisted.

Magnus was thoughtful for a moment, turning it over in his head. It wasn’t a bad deal; true, it had risks but he could manage them. His powerbase was strong; the Downworld basically owned its survival and victory to him. He could sell this; Jace was the most difficult part of the deal but he could force it through. In particular if Alicante were to fall in a few days, hopefully giving them many more high ranked prisoners which could be used to satisfy his people’s need for justice and vengeance. If they were lucky they might even capture Valentine alive and with him available for punishment the perceived mercy towards his son could be overlooked; after all no punishment could ever be too harsh for Valentine and his senior staff! 

“Very well,” he said slowly, nodding.

“Yes?” Alec asked hopefully, his eyes lighting up. “We have a deal? You will save my family?”

“Your sister, Max and Jace…as agreed. Yes,” Magnus granted and Alec drew a relieved breath. “On one condition,” he added in a warning tone.
“Yes?” Alec’s voice was hesitant, fearful he would lose the deal so close to victory.

“You prove to me that you can do something other than look pretty on your knees,” Magnus demanded. He wasn’t going to go through with this if Alec couldn’t live up to his end of the bargain. As he had already told Alec; he had plenty of willing bed partners and while Alec was indeed handsome and spoke to the demon in him Magnus was also a man who needed more than that from his sexual partner.

Alec got a determined look on his face. “What do you want me to do?”

Magnus sat back down in the chair he had just left moments earlier and looked at Alec expectantly. He took another sip of his drink and spread his legs slightly, an invitation and a challenge.

“Let me see how good you can be with your tongue and month,” he said and the words alone made his cock twist in interest as the demon in him relished in the idea of having this pretty angel, this defeated enemy, on his knees before him. 

With a resolute look Alec got to his feet and walked the short distance towards Magnus. Magnus considered for a few seconds to have him crawl to him, the demon in him liking that idea entirely too much but before he could decide on that Alec had reached him and looking him in the eyes, he sank to the floor between his knees, a hand on each of his thighs. The movement as he sank to his feet before him was so graceful, so submissive, so breathtakingly beautiful Magnus had to take a deep breath as his arousal increased and he forgot what it was he had been thinking about.

“No teeth,” Magnus warned as Alec looked him in the eyes for permission as he reached with slightly unsteady hands towards the fly in his pants. While his eyes and face showed his resolution to do this he was still unsure how to do it and he was well aware the stakes for failing would be high; it would mean no deal and thus no salvation for his family.

Alec nodded at Magnus’ words, suddenly very much aware he didn’t know how to do it. But how difficult could it be? Women had done this for ages, right? He just had to think about what he himself might like and be careful of his teeth. He could do this.

Alec unbuttoned Magnus’ pants and with a clear blush he managed to find Magnus’ cock with one hand and pull it out from its trappings. Magnus was quite big; bigger than he himself was and he was slightly hard already. He had never seen another man’s cock before, not really. Sure, he had showered together in shared washrooms with other soldiers but the rule of not looking was very well enforced. With Alec’s hand around the base of his cock Magnus began to stiffen further. 

Alec fought to not consider what he was doing, not to overthink this but just do it. Unsure how to proceed Alec tried to cover his teeth with his lips and leaned down to take the tip into his mouth. He wasn’t sure how to do this; he had never done this before – he hadn’t even ever gotten a blowjob before. He had heard of it from soldiers bragging about it but he didn’t really know what to do. Determined to make the deal, to save his family, he decided to let go and commit himself to this task, recalling what the soldiers had told him felt good and had impressed them when they had gotten blowjobs from prostitutes or girlfriends. He forced all thoughts from his mind except what he had to do and opened his mouth wide, taking Magnus into his mouth as far down as he could; being able to take a cock all the way down was something he clearly recalled had impressed his soldiers and thus he hoped it would also go over well with Magnus. Magnus’ cock hit the back of his throat and he could hear Magnus make a moan of pleasure which made it worth it as Alec fought against his gag reflex before pulling back up. He looked up at Magnus to see if he seemed to be doing it right, fighting not to cough. The Warlock’s eyes were half-open and he leaned further back in the chair, scooting further down a little more, his expression showing his pleasure and his eyes shining with lust.

Years ago something like this would have had Magnus lose control of his glamour but the war had taught Magnus how to use his powers to a level that was unmatched and thus he never lost control of his glamour any more, unless he desired it. Magnus looked down at Alec with lust and challenge reflecting in his eyes. Alec stayed where he was and simply lowered his eyes and his mouth to take Magnus as far down his throat as he could yet again. He had one hand around the base of Magnus’ cock to keep it straight and balanced and was unsure what to do with his other hand so he kept it on Magnus’s inner thigh. Magnus was making very faint noises as Alec kept going up and down the length of his cock, trying to alternate between adding licks and just using his lips. Already feeling a bit tired, his throat starting to ache, he pulled off and instead used only his tongue on the tip, drawing more moans from Magnus. He hoped this meant he was doing it well; Magnus was certainly rock hard and if he had thought the Warlock Prince was big before it was nothing compared to now that he had swelled to his full size. As he went as far down on him again as he could, going up and down in a faster rhythm he started to taste something on his tongue – a white fluid different from how he himself tasted – Magnus tasted a little salty and with a hint of…sulfur?

“Lick my balls,” Magnus demanded, his voice hoarse with desire as he used the hand he wasn’t holding his drink in and fisting it in Alec’s hair for leverage but otherwise not moving.

Alec did so, taking them into his mouth and running his tongue over them. Having done that a few times he went back to take Magnus’ cock into his mouth, going up and down on it. Magnus released his hair and snapped his fingers, making his drink disappear before he put his right hand around Alec’s where it was resting at the base of his cock and guided it so he was pumping up and down in times with him going down on him with his mouth, tightening his grip so their combined hands created a tight friction. He put his other hand in his hair again, using it to guide him slightly in his rhythm.

He’s helping me do this, Alec realized in surprise and shock.

Magnus seemed to have realized it at the same time because something dark flashed over his face and he released his hold on Alec’s hand and instead put it around his neck. His eyes became darker as he remembered clearly what he had suffered at the hands of Valentine and his people, how his people had suffered…all by people with runes such as Alec’s. And here he was helping with such a simple task; something this Nephilim had asked for himself! Furious with himself Magnus used his hand around Alec’s neck to hold him in place and began to thrust into his mouth fast and deep, in a brutal pace. Alec braced himself against his thighs, trying to keep up, spit slipping from the corners of his mouth. He tried not to gag as Magnus hit the back of his throat repeatedly, tears coming to his eyes. A forceful thrust that hid the back of his throat had Alec try and tear himself off forcefully and he was grateful when Magnus released his grip on his neck and let him pull away, gasping for breath and coughing. He would have fallen to the floor if he had not managed to catch himself with his hands. He looked up at Magnus with questioning eyes, angrily wiping the betraying tears away with the back of a hand as he sat back on his knees. 

Magnus’ cold expression softened somewhat. Why didn’t he just accept the deal he had offered? It would be easier for them both. Magnus didn’t like losing control and this Nephilim was clearly able to push him into acting on his demonic urges, acting on his desires and lust. He didn’t like to lose control.

“My offer still stands, darling. We can stop here,” Magnus offered, his voice soft and almost kind.

Alec shook his head, his eyes determined. His lips, mouth and throat felt raw and aching but he was not backing down. He could do this; he knew he had been doing it well before; he had heard Magnus’ moans of pleasure, he had felt it, tasted it, on his tongue. “No.”

“No what?” Magnus questioned, his voice harder and colder now.

“I want to continue,” Alec said determined and pushed himself closer so he was back to sitting between Magnus’s thighs. The Warlock gave him a challenging look. Alec kept eye contact as he took his cock back into his mouth. Having gotten a bit of an idea of what Magnus liked he put one hand around the base and combined an up and down tight pumping movement with moving his head up and down. He ignored his gag reflex and the tears coming to his eyes from the strain as he took Magnus all the way down to the base, letting him hit the back of his throat. He could hear Magnus try to strangle a moan of pleasure and if he hadn’t had his mouth full he would have smiled at the sense of victory this brought him. He increased his actions, combining his hand and his mouth until Magnus took a hard grip on the back of his neck and forced his head back. Alec knew what was to come this time and tried to force himself to relax when Magnus started to pump forcefully in and out of his mouth, hitting the back of his throat at each thrust. Just when Alec thought he couldn’t take it any longer he could feel Magnus was about to come. He had a flash of panic as he wondered if he would manage to swallow everything without gagging. However, instead of the expected taste on his tongue and down his throat Magnus pulled out just when he was about to come.

Caught up in his emotions Magnus felt a need to claim, possess and mark the Nephilim as his own, the demon in him loving the sight of the kneeling man with cheeks still slightly wet from tears, his lips swollen from abuse but his eyes firm and his movements eager in his desire to please. With a hand behind Alec’s neck he kept him in place and pumped himself with the other.

“Ahh!” With a loud yell and his head leaned back he came over Alec’s face in large splashes of white.

Surprised and feeling humiliated yet unsure why considering what he had just done Alec barely managed to close his eyes and did an instinctively backwards motion before he stopped himself and stayed put. He looked up at Magnus searchingly, hoping to see a look of satisfaction there which would mean the deal had gone through. When Magnus looked at him again, forcing his breathing to stabilize his eyes and face showed the endorphins running through him, his eyes shiny and a tiny smile curved his lips without he seeming to realize it. It made Alec’s lips curve just a little too, taking it as a good sign.

 “Lick me clean,” Magnus ordered hoarsely, sounding spent and moved his cock up to Alec’s lips. Unsure if this meant he had done good or not Alec opened his mouth and did as ordered. Magnus tasted slightly salty, and a bit like sulfur. Like putting a match on your tongue. It wasn’t bad just…unusual. Weird.

“That’s enough,” Magnus said as he pulled back, pushing Alec off him with a light shove at one of his shoulders, feeling over-sensitive. He stood up, making Alec draw back from the chair to give him space. He rearranged his clothes with a thoughtful expression, looking down at Alec who in turn looked expectantly up at him.

Alec was about to wipe his face with his sleeve when Magnus’ voice stopped him.

“No, I haven’t given you permission to wipe it off yet,” Magnus warned with a smirk as he was again fully dressed. Seeing the other man so put together while he looked like this made Alec blush in embarrassment. Unsure what to do with himself now he leaned back on his knees and put his hands in his lap, looking at the floor.

“You look gorgeous like this, covered with me, my essence,” Magnus said softly, almost like a whisper, his voice almost holding reverence.

Alec wasn’t sure Magnus had intended for him to hear that and he didn’t think he was supposed to reply, at least he hoped not. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Weirdly enough though the praise made him feel better, less embarrassed.

“You have never done that before, have you?” Magnus asked knowingly.

Alec considered lying as the words made him feel like someone had thrown cold water on him. He had really tried his best; he hoped it had been enough.

“Don’t lie to me,” Magnus warned, guessing his thoughts. “You would not like the consequences.”

“No,” Alec admitted, his voice hoarse from the abuse to his throat. He really longed for a glass of water but didn’t think it was his place to ask for anything now after having already asked for this deal. “But I can learn to do it better,” he promised, aware he was sounding desperate but not caring.

Magnus nodded and a smile spread over his lips. “I am sure.”

He was in fact sure of that; if this had been Alec’s first time he had no issues with this deal. Alec had clearly wanted to please him and had tried his best and had learned quickly. He was certain sex with Alec would only get more interesting as time went by and he learned to relax more and give up control. 

“Do we….do we have a deal?” Alec asked softly, still looking at the floor, his voice small, hopeful.

Magnus nodded, the sight of the kneeling angel at his feet making him both want to ravish him, fuck him into submission and protect him – the latter being the most disconcerting feeling for him to deal with when he had an enemy at his feet. But his desires won out and thus he said, “Yes. We have a deal.” 

Chapter Text

Please see the author's notes for chapter warnings

Please read the sequel "Tales from Idris" for details on Magnus, Alec, Andrew and Jace: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21396760?view_full_work=true

 

Chapter 4: What fate awaits

 

“You're in my blood from the cradle to the grave” ( Mercy Mirror, Within Temptation)

 

Magnus looked down at the kneeling Shadowhunter who looked calmly up at him. He was amazed how he managed to look strong despite kneeling, despite him still being covered in his essence, flashes of white on his nose and cheeks. Magnus couldn’t deny that the demon in him was enjoying this sight, seeing his enemy like this, way too much.

“This is the last time I will ask you this. You are sure you want this?” Magnus asked one last time, unsure why he kept asking, why he kept giving him so many chances to get out. It was a good deal; just owning a Nephilim soul alone was a good deal and then owning this beautiful creature too…He was unaware of how important Alec’s answer was to him until the Shadowhunter spoke and he hung on every word. A part of him wanted Alec to regret the deal so they could just both take the easy and safe option, which was the deal he had offered, but the rest of him really wanted Alec to keep wanting this…it was frightening to put it mildly how much he wanted to own this exquisite man, how much he wanted to claim him as his own.

Alec nodded, his voice strong and his eyes calm as he replied, “Yes, I am sure.”
“Good,” Magnus said with a smile when he got the answer he wanted. “I will have to brand you now. It will hurt,” he warned, surprising himself at the hint of compassion in his voice as he said it.

Alec seemed unfazed by this; having grown up under Valentine’s rule it took quite a lot of pain to frighten him.

“Go ahead,” Alec said calmly, his eyes showing only acceptance and a hint of curiosity as he wasn’t quite sure what he meant by branding him. Knowledge about Downworlder culture and customs in Idris had been scarce and, as he was started to realize more and more by now, also grossly inaccurate.

“Stand still. It will be over soon,” Magnus added in a more gentle voice than he had intended. He wasn’t sure why he said that; it wasn’t his place to reassure him.

Alec nodded in gratitude at the reassurance and clashed his jaw tightly together, bracing against the coming pain. His eyes were watchful and uncertain, unsure what Magnus was going to do to him to brand him as his.

Magnus moved slowly so not to frighten him needlessly and laid a hand on Alec’s neck, on his deflect rune, choosing this spot specifically so as to overlay his claim on the mark on his body that had previously showed his allegiance to Idris and Valentine.

Suddenly the runed skin under Magnus’ hand felt like it was burning, like he was indeed being branded. Alec winced, fighting not to flinch, not to move. The burning sensation had tears coming to his eyes. He didn’t want to scream but at the end it was torn from his lips, “Ahh!”

Almost as soon as Alec screamed the pain started to subside and Magnus removed his hand. Alec suddenly could breathe again and he took a sharp breath, his throat now feeling even more abused than before as a single tear or two from the pain ran down his cheeks. On instinct, Alec wanted to wipe the tears away only to remember that Magnus had forbidden him to clear up his face so he instead took a hand to his neck to feel the brand.

“What did you do?” Alec asked hoarsely, somewhere between fear and curiosity. He winced when he touched his own flesh; it felt warm and tender and there was clear lines in the skin – he had definitely been branded with something.

“I branded you,” Magnus explained, the brand coming from his magic, from his demonic self, leaving the design and choice of it out of Magnus’ conscious decision. This was one reason he had never before kept prisoners in this manner; it spoke too much to the demon in him. Another, and maybe more truthful reason, was that he enjoyed the feeling of power and dominance over an enemy that had hurt him and his people so brutally, he enjoyed knowing what he owned was his and would always stay his.

Magnus conjured up a handheld mirror and held it up for Alec to see. “See for yourself.”

“MB…Discreet,” Alec said dryly but without any heat as he looked in the mirror and saw the red burn mark left on top of his deflect rune. He had chosen this deal himself and he accepted the consequences of it; he was a Lightwood after all.

Magnus shrugged but a proud smirk was covering his lips; his demon was very happy with the resulting brand and how good his mark looked on Alec. He waved the mirror away again. “You said you wanted this,” he reminded him.

“I do,” Alec insisted quickly, not wanting to have the whole discussion about their deal yet again. He paused, looked down for a moment before he looked back up, “Thank you…for the deal. For doing this.”

Magnus shook his head, wanting to have clear lines of communication between them.

“Don’t thank me, I won’t be doing you any favors. I won’t go easy on you,” Magnus warned. He needed Alec to really know what he had agreed to; this was not a summer camp; he had given him his sense of self; everything that was him would from now on belong to Magnus. This was why Magnus had been convinced Alec would choose his offer of a quick and painless death so he could die standing, die as a warrior, as a Shadowhunter. It was unusual to see this level of sacrifice, of commitment, from someone of his race. In fact, Magnus couldn’t recall having ever seen it before. Dying for someone was easy and that was normally what a Shadowhunter would offer; to die or kill for someone. But to offer to live on your knees for someone….to give up that sense of self for someone else…few would be able to offer that and even fewer would be able to actually do it.

Alec nodded calmly, having expected nothing else. “I know,” he said matter of fact.

“You know?” Magnus asked puzzled.

“You need to prove to your people you are the man who stopped Valentine. You can use me to do that; show your dominance over a Shadowhunter – a Lightwood. As you said; everyone knows of the close affliction between the Lightwood name and Valentine,” Alec clarified as he looked up at him with eyes filled with intelligence and strength. This reason had been why he had known Magnus would agree; he could use him to strengthen his powerbase, he could use his submission to gain further support.

Magnus was thoughtful; Alec was turning out to be every inch the strategic mastermind his reputation claimed he was. It made this deal more dangerous…and more interesting.

“You are more than just a pretty face, aren’t you?” He said half-jokingly. Alec was indeed pretty and even more so when he looked like this; steel in his eyes, strength in the tightening of his jaw yet on his knees, blushing now at the complement and casting his eyes down, still covered in his essence on his face. Like innocence and sin personified.

“I wasn’t aware I was a pretty face but yes; I understand what you want which is why I brought this deal to you,” Alec said truthfully as he looked up at him again.

“Very well,” Magnus said with a smile. He did a wave with one hand and a bracelet appeared in his other hand. The bracelet was quite wide, white gold and covered in small red rubies.

“You will wear this,” Magnus ordered matter of fact as he handed Alec the bracelet.

Alec took it carefully with both hands and looked at it in astonishment and shock. He had expected to more or less be treated like Shadowhunters treated Downworlder prisoners which meant little food, horrible living conditions, poor clothes and in general bad conditions in every single way imaginable. He had not expected to be given a piece of jewelry as beautiful as this.

“It’s beautiful. What is it?” Alec asked softly as he turned the bracelet around in his hands carefully.

“The bracelet is enchanted. It will send out a warning to anyone predisposed to magic and warn them you belong to me so an attack on you is an attack on me,” Magnus explained and frowned a little. It seemed Alec knew very little of Downworlder customs. He mentally made a note that he would have Alec read up on the customs, cultures and rules governing the Downworlder after the Alliance between the Races to defeat Idris, as well as teach him the history of the Downworld.

“Oh. Ok,” Alec said with relief, shock and surprise. Downworlder prisoners in Idris were not protected in any sense or form and had no rights at all; any Shadowhunter could treat them as they pleased, hurt them as they pleased unless someone of higher rank had marked the given Downworlder for a specific purpose. He felt a weird sense of gratitude that Magnus would not let others harm him. Had had not expected that.

“Put it on,” Magnus ordered impatiently.

Alec put it around his right wrist and the bracelet seemed to almost attach itself to his skin; it wasn’t painful but just tight, like it had become an extension of his flesh. He looked at it for a moment before looking up at Magnus, unsure of what was expected of him. He had gotten the deal he had wanted; he was unsure what would happen now.

“Is there anything else I should know moving forward?” Alec asked instead, starting to realize he knew very little about Downworlders and their way of life.

“Speak only when spoken to, do what you are told, don’t make trouble,” Magnus said, sticking to the simple and easy version for now until he could have Alec read about the customs and rules in detail.

“That’s it?” Alec asked surprised with a hint of disbelief. That sounded almost too easy.

“That’s it,” Magnus said with a small smile. Alec might think those rules were easy to follow but he had a feeling that having been a general, a man of power and position, they would be hard for him to carry through. Though it would likely aid him that he had had to live under Valentine’s repressive rules when he had lived in his mansion and had, by his own admission, been taught how to obey and the consequence of failure.

Magnus was thoughtful for a moment as he looked down at Alec before he added, “Oh, I should clean you up now. I don’t want to share this side of you.”

“Thank the Angel,” Alec mumbled under his breath. He had really preferred not to walk around like this all day but he had been prepared to carry that humiliation if he had to; Valentine had been fond of humiliation as part of punishments and though they had obviously never been sexual in nature they had been just as challenging to survive. However, his past experiences would have made this one easier to carry.

Magnus snapped his fingers, Alec was suddenly clean, and his hair neatly combed after Magnus’ mistreatment earlier.

“I shall look forward to seeing you covered in me like that again soon,” Magnus said with a lustful smirk as he tipped Alec’s face up to look at him.

Alec’s eyes fell to the floor. His eyes darkened and his cheeks colored in embarrassment.

“Thanks,” he whispered softly as he felt Magnus was expecting an answer. If Magnus wanted to be the only one to see that side of him then Alec was also relieved to hear it sounded like Magnus would ensure he only belonged to him, which he found to be a huge relief. The more he got to know about Magnus the more he realized just how well he was treated, a defeated enemy, Magnus by all rights should want to punish and humiliate. Angels knew that Valentine and his people would not have hesitated for a moment to make life as painful as possible in every way imaginable if it had been Magnus or one of his generals who had been captured and taken to Alicante.

Magnus smiled at how cute he looked, all shy and innocent; it made him look more like a boy than the warrior general and enemy combatant he was. He released his grip on Alec’s chin.

“We can’t have you walking around like this – in an enemy uniform, all torn and bloody,” Magnus mused aloud, walking around him like he was a priced race horse. Alec forced himself not to follow him with his eyes but kept his gaze at a spot on the floor in front of him.

Magnus snapped his fingers and Alec’s clothes changed to an elegant outfit, middle eastern inspired, with lose pants and a long sleeved tunic – all held in dark, almost black, colors but with shiny pale stones, likely diamonds given the bracelet Magnus had just handed him, around the edges, making the outfit more prominent but not flashy in the way Magnus’s outfits were.

“There. Much better,” Magnus said with a smile as he looked at Alec’s new outfit, his clean features and neatly combed hair. He looked beautiful. “You may stand,” he allowed graciously.

Alec smiled a little despite himself, feeling much better now he was cleaned up and had clean clothes. He had barely been out of his uniform since they had left Idris three weeks ago. His legs protested a bit with the strain of kneeling on the wooden floor when he finally got up and stood before Magnus.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
“What for?” Magnus asked, raising an eyebrow questioning.
“For not showing me off like…that,” Alec ended with a heavy blush, his voice soft, knowing Magnus would know what he was referring to.
“Don’t worry, darling; that look is only for me just like you are only for me,” Magnus replied with a possessive edge, smirking when Alec blushed again.

The words made Alec smile inwardly and sigh in relief; Magnus would protect him. If he played his cards right this whole deal might turn out to be much more bearable than surviving living under Valentine’s roof for the past many years had been.

“Kiss me,” Magnus demanded but his voice was soft and had an edge of desire. Alec hesitated for a fraction of a second before pressing his lips against his in a chaste and careful kiss. He was about to pull away, blushing at actually kissing another man like this, but Magnus put a hand behind his neck and forced him to stay put. He made the kiss more possessive; forcing his tongue into the Shadowhunter’s mouth and Alec, after a short initial resistance from the surprise, opened his mouth and allowed the intrusion. When Magnus drew back they were both short of breath though how much of Alec’s were due to his anxiety and fear of the newness of the experience and situation and how much of it was a physical reaction was difficult to tell.

“Come, I want to go inspect the prisoners,” Magnus said when he managed to get his growing arousal under control, turning to the door.

Alec didn’t reply; he couldn’t. He hadn’t been asked to. He followed after Magnus as he opened the door he had sent his guards out of earlier and started walking down the hallway outside, fully expecting Alec to follow behind him. Alec ignored the curious looks from the guards posted outside Magnus’ door as he hurried to keep up with the Warlock.

“My Prince,” the young Latin American vampire who had taken Alec before Magnus came towards them from one of the side rooms, joining Magnus as he walked through halls and down stairs, aiming for the courtyard. Raphael gave a respectful nod of his head to add to the title when he reached him but his smile was familiar and warm.

“Raphael, any news?” Magnus asked with a soft smile. Alec stayed silent and avoided eye contact as much as possible, keeping his head bowed but he was listening and watching everything intensely, wanting to learn as much as he could of this new world he found himself in. Knowledge was power and what got you killed was the things you didn’t know.

“Lorenzo dropped the flyers regarding our surrender terms on Alicante,” Raphael informed him, his eyes flashing a warning at Alec when he spotted the Shadowhunter and clearly tensed, not at ease with having a Shadowhunter walk around the mansion unbound. While Alec’s body language said submission there was a strength to him that made Raphael worry; Shadowhunters simply could not be trusted. They had no honor.

“Good,” Magnus said, nodding. While Alicante’s magical defenses still took time to break through and, after that the same would be needed for the rest of Idris, then the barrier had become so thin that it had been possible to use magic to get their flyers through. It was something Magnus had insisted on; he wanted all the citizens of Alicante to know if they surrendered, they would not be harmed but could live on as Mundanes or Downworlders.

“I doubt they will surrender and they will likely kill most of the non-combatants rather than see them fall into our hands,” Raphael said darkly, thinking of the Institutes they had taken. When they had fallen they had in many places seen Shadowhunter children poisoned by their own mothers and adults choosing poison over surrender. The sight of the many lifeless bodies, in particular those of the young ones, could be shocking even for someone like Raphael who had very good reason to despise the Nephilim race.

Magnus nodded darkly. “They are fanatics.”

“Deberíamos estar discutiendo esto frente a tu nuevo ... juguete [Should we be discussing this in front of your new…plaything?]” Raphael asked in Spanish, thinking Alec wouldn’t understand the language, casting a warning look at him which was filled with contempt and resentment.

“It’s fine. Alexander belongs to me now,” Magnus assured him and made a hand gesture towards the brand on Alec’s neck. At Magnus’ expression Alec wordlessly turned his head and pulled his shirt down a little so Raphael could see the brand on his neck. He tried not to blush but still did; feeling like a prized possession being showed off but then, thinking about it, he guessed that was precisely what he was. He guessed being a prized possession was better than simply being owned. He could work with that; it was something.

Raphael nodded when he saw the brand and Alec pulled up his shirt again, covering half of the brand. “Very well.”

They entered the courtyard and Alec tried to hide his surprise and shock when Raphael could walk in the sunlight; one of the few Daylighters he had heard about. Daylighters had been a scourge for Idris; they were difficult to kill as they possessed all the strength and power of vampires but lacked one of the main weaknesses of the race; deadly aversion to sunlight in any form or shape.

The Shadowhunter prisoners had sat down on the grass, some looking worried, most trying not to consider their fate, trying to find courage in their convictions and belief in the vision Valentine had given them.

When Magnus entered the courtyard the guards stood at attention and the captured Shadowhunters turned to glare their hatred at him; Magnus had been Idris’s most hated and feared enemy. Every Shadowhunter knew what he looked like.

Alec did his best not to look at his former comrades but could still feel their eyes on him, tearing into him as he walked behind Magnus with an intensity as if their looks alone could kill him for what he knew they would consider his betrayal. The closer Magnus walked to the prisoners, the closer he got to them and thus the more obvious his surrender to Magnus would become to them all. Well, to be honest he couldn’t blame them for their hate for what he had done. He had betrayed Idris and Valentine to get his deal for his family and he would gladly do it again.

“My Prince,” Lorenzo came to greet him with a smile, having just exited from a portal that had appeared in the courtyard. Lorenzo was a handsome, strongly built Spanish man who carried himself with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance, his outfit was similar in style to 1800s nobility with very tight black pants with a line of red down the side and a form fitting jacket held in tones of black, red and gold. He wore a cravat, held up with a pin made in gold with diamonds. He had long hair in a ponytail, held together with a band that also had diamonds on it. He wore a golden bracelet and a gold watch and long black leather boots.

“Lorenzo. I hear you delivered the terms of surrender for Idris,” Magnus said when Lorenzo came all the way over to him and did the customary greeting when Downworlders met their Prince for the first time that day; he bent the knee and when Magnus nodded as he looked down at him he rose again. They shook hands when Lorenzo was again standing, hands around the wrist in a warrior greeting.

“Indeed,” Lorenzo said when he released his grip on Magnus. He paused before adding with a dark voice, his hatred and remembered pain at the hands of Shadowhunters shining through in his words, “Though I think we should just annihilate them by now.”

“Duly noted,” Magnus said dryly. Magnus noticed that Alec tried hard not to keep his gaze going towards two people among the prisoners; his sister and Jace. Given the high status that Jace and the Lightwoods had all Downworlders recognized them just as Magnus knew he was recognized. Isabelle looked worried towards her brother but though she stood tall she looked resigned to her fate and unlike the other Shadowhunters her eyes held no hatred or disgust, just wariness and a hint of fear. Jace’s stance and eyes however, held no expression and gave off nothing except an aura of strength and power.

Lorenzo’s words about annihilation had Alec give him a quick look, his eyes lingering on Lorenzo’s neck on his right side; a small Circle tattoo, the size of a seal, was visible where the cravat had dropped down a little.

Lorenzo’s eyes turned dark when he noticed Alec’s gaze and he quickly corrected the cravat so the tattoo was covered and Alec looked down again. So that was why he wanted Shadowhunters annihilated; the tattoo was used by Valentine’s people to mark Downworlders in the camps they wanted to keep alive for a while to experiment on. The tattoo was applied with the coerced help of a captured Warlock and couldn’t be removed. The tattoo made it clear that Lorenzo would have suffered horribly before he had been rescued. In fact, it was amazing he was even alive as most of the experiments conducted by Valentine and his people meant that if regular injections were not given the Downworlder would die or suffer terrible and permanent injuries.

“Raphael, have King Meliorn join me,” Magnus asked of the vampire who had remained a little behind him to the left, Alec standing behind him to the right. Magnus knew the Seelie King would still be at the mansion somewhere close by. Magnus had thrown a huge party yesterday to celebrate the victory over the New York Institute and the King never turned down an invitation to a party. Besides, Meliorn would never pass up the chance to have a first row seat to their victory – e.g. to watch the captured Shadowhunter officers as they had been presented in the courtyard before Magnus could pass verdict over them.

“Right away, my Prince,” Raphael said and gave a small nod before hurrying off to carry out the order, not missing the chance to give Alec another warning look as he passed him which Alec again ignored.

A few moments later Meliorn was at his side. He had heard the beautiful Isabelle was among the captured and he had stayed in the courtyard to observe. He had no rights to the prisoners so he knew he couldn’t do anything but he had known her before the war started. He had developed a fondness for her not only due to her beauty and kind nature but also because she was unique; she had held a clear belief that Downworlders were not less worth than Shadowhunters. Though she had followed orders and had never voiced her opinion in public she had told him this as much when they had talked in private in Idris and he had also observed that she had never partaken in the other Nephilim’s crude jokes or talk about Downworlders the times he had been visiting with the late Queen. Reports from the front lines had also made it clear she was a fierce warrior but never cruel. In fact, rumor had it that if the Nephilim army captured you then you had better hope you were captured by her, because it was said she would offer Downworlders the choice to die quickly by her blade instead of being taken to the camps to suffer horribly. It was not an offer sanctioned by Idris and Isabelle would have been severe punished if her actions had been discovered but many a Downworlder had avoided the camps by choosing death by her hand instead. A rarely seen act of mercy and honor among the Nephilim. Meliorn therefore had a distaste at the very thought of her beauty being scarred by pain and torture, the normal fate for any captured officer of her rank and her family’s influence and status in Idris.

“My Prince?” the Seelie King asked respectfully, bending the knee and rising when Magnus nodded at him in acknowledgement.

“I have heard you have taken a fancy to a female Shadowhunter among the prisoners. Is this true?” Magnus asked evenly.

Meliorn didn’t quite manage to hide his shock and surprise at hearing this; he didn’t think Magnus would know. Hearing it his first thought was that Magnus might try and use this intel against him to get something off him so he proceeded with caution but with the respect the Prince was due.

“Of course my Prince would be aware of this,” he said lightly but with an irritated frown. He sighed, choosing to answer straightforward for now. “It is true. Her name is Isabelle Lightwood and we meet while I was still a Knight for the Queen when we visited Idris before we joined the Alliance.”

Magnus nodded at the words. “As I can see you have noticed, then she is here, as my prisoner,” Magnus said and waved in her general direction. Magnus noticed that Alec had tensed when the conversation had fallen on his sister but otherwise didn’t react.

“I have indeed noticed that, my Prince,” Meliorn said guarded, his eyes going to the beautiful Shadowhunter before settling again on the Demon Prince.

“I will give her to you as your spoil of war,” Magnus offered, watching him carefully to see his reaction.

Meliorn fought to hide his eagerness and joy at these words. He couldn’t quite believe he would actually get to bring her back to his realm with him. That she would be his. He had wanted her since he had first seen her, at first due to her beauty but his interest had remained and grown into something more due to her character.

“If?” The Seelie King asked suspiciously, knowing well that nothing was ever free.

“I need her as proof of our superiority so gain her submission but don’t harm her,” Magnus warned.

“I won’t, ever,” Meliorn denied quickly.

Magnus nodded, satisfied with the answer before he added, having almost forgotten this part of the deal, “Oh…and if her brother survives he is to stay with her.”

“That one?” the Seelie King asked, nodding towards Alec with interest. He wasn’t King of the Seelies for nothing; he had recognized all the high ranking officials Magnus had just captured; not just Isabelle. Isabelle’s brother had always had a gentleness to him which had otherwise been unheard of in Alicante, making the Seelie King interested in him though in a different way than Isabelle. He loved rare objects; the Seelies were protectors of anything rare in nature and Alec was certainly that – like a fragile looking yet ever powerful and thorny rose in a field of angry wild weeds.

“Of course not!” Magnus denied hotly, not liking the look of interest in the King’s eyes one bit; Alexander belonged to him now and he didn’t share!

“That one is mine. No, her younger sibling, Max,” Magnus explained as he forced himself to calm down.

Meliorn considered it for a moment; it would politically not be a bad move to include the Youngling; he could be turned to support him as he was young enough that the poison they had filled him with in Alicante could be removed, he would appear to show mercy to a non-combatant enemy and Isabelle would of course be forever in his debt. Not a bad position to be in at all.

Meliorn gave a small smile as he replied, “Deal.”

They shook hands, hands around each other’s wrists, sealing the deal.

“Very well. Go take her with you. I will see you at our next Council meeting,” Magnus ordered and did a dismissive wave of his hand though his words were kind.

Meliorn smiled as he bowed. “My Prince,” he said respectfully before going to talk to his Knights to see to Isabelle’s transfer to his realm.

“Raphael, bring Luke to me,” Magnus ordered of the vampire who had again come to stand by his left side. Luke, his wife and daughter had also attended the party last night and had also stayed at the mansion though that was mainly because Magnus had needed to have a meeting with Luke later today regarding battle plans wherein he needed to make good use of werewolf strength and power.

Raphael nodded his head respectfully but then added in a teasing voice that only someone considered family would get away with using, “Anyone else I can bring now I am at it, my Prince?”

“No, you insolent pup,” Magnus replied with great fondness and love in his voice, mock hitting him over the head.

Raphael grinned but still remembered to bow respectfully as he turned to fetch Luke, “As you wish.”

Luke had already been in the courtyard, having organized some of the guards to watch the captured Shadowhunter officers so he was quickly at Magnus’s side. He bent the knee before his Prince and when Magnus smiled at him, the way you smile at a close comrade in arms you have shared battle with, Luke rose.

“My Prince. What can I do for you?” Luke asked formally, eyeing Alec curiously for a second before quickly looking away.

“Do you know of Jace?” Magnus asked, waving his hand in his general direction. His own distaste for Valentine and his son slipped through in his tone. This was the part of the deal he liked the least.

“The Deathbringer? All Downworlders know of him. He is the greatest warrior Idris has,” Luke said frankly, a bit puzzled by the question. Jace had pure angel blood and was almost invincible. He had killed hundreds of Downworlders single handedly since leaving Idris three weeks ago in his defense of the New York Institute, several of which had been wolves. The nickname given to him by the Downworlders, Deathbringer, was well earned.

“Then you also know he is among my prisoners.”

“I know,” Luke acknowledged, getting even more puzzled as to where this was going.

“I want you, and only you, to turn him and make him an officer in your pack. I would suggest making him your second,” Magnus ordered, thoughtful, thinking the plan out loud.

“Very well,” Luke promised though he looked confused at this. Normally only the common soldiers got turned or de-runed and left in the Mundane world. This level of mercy for Valentine’s son….unusual!

“Turn him tonight,” Magnus ordered, needed the deed done quickly. As soon as Jace was a wolf he would be a Downworlder, with the same rights and protections. Until then he would have to have him guarded carefully to avoid someone taking their revenge upon him.

“As you wish, my Prince,” Luke agreed with a small nod of his head.

Magnus did an elaborate hand movement and a small vial appeared in his hand. “Before you turn him give him this,” Magnus said as he handed him the vial.
Luke took the vial, looking at the green liquid inside curiously. “What is it?”

“A potion that ensures his parabatai rune survives his transformation and only that one. The other runes will disappear,” Magnus explained.

“Why would you want that?” Luke asked him curiously.

“Because I have his parabatai and they share feelings,” Magnus said with a hint of darkness and nodded towards Alec.

“Oh,” Luke simply said, a bit uncomfortable with this type of warfare though he could see the appeal; as a wolf Jace would be protected while Alec would only have whatever protection Magnus chose to grant him so Alec could be punished and Jace would still feel it.

“Go on,” Magnus ordered and made a dismissive hand gesture.

“Yes, my Prince.”

Luke bowed and left to arrange to carry out his order.

“So…is this a gift giving event, my Prince?” Lorenzo asked with a smirk and an eager look, gaining Magnus’ attraction again. He had been standing by his side and had been observing the events as well as the Shadowhunter prisoners in the background and one of them had caught his eye.

“Lorenzo…I assume you want something?” Magnus asked knowingly as he turned to look at the Warlock.

Lorenzo grinned at his prince and friend; he knew him well.

“Can I have that one?” Lorenzo asked and pointed to a Shadowhunter who was seated on the grass off to one side, his head bowed, his hands neatly folded in his lap. He was blond haired and frail looking, pushing all the protective and possessive instincts in the warlock.

Magnus hadn’t noticed the Shadowhunter Lorenzo was pointing at before now; he almost seemed to try to fade into the background and be invisible.

“Why him?” Magnus asked confused.

“He’s…different,” Lorenzo admitted, licking his lips eagerly. There was something intriguing about him. All the other Shadowhunters had remained standing, in fighting mood, ready for anything. That one was seated, simply awaiting his fate with an unusual calmness and acceptance that he had no choice over his own fate. That he had chosen to sit was also interesting; Shadowhunters would normally never do that in front of standing Downworlders, finding it a show of weakness.

“Hmmm….Yes, he is,” Magnus admitted thoughtfully. He did a hand movement and blue magic flames wrapped around the seated Shadowhunter, making him jump to his feet in surprise and shock. The magic pushed him forward until he was right in front of the magical barrier that was containing them. Just when the Shadowhunter had raised his hands above his head in fear the barrier separated for him and he was pushed through before it closed again at once. The Shadowhunter sighed in relief before he was magically pushed to stand before Magnus and Lorenzo. He gave Alec standing behind Magnus a small smile of relief at seeing him looking well and unharmed which Alec returned with a look of worry.

“What’s your name, little Shadowhunter?” Lorenzo asked curiously, noticing the frail form of the Nephilim, his thin frame and his ill-fitting uniform without insignia and the general state of disarray he was in. All very unusual for a Shadowhunter officer.

The Shadowhunter looked uncertain, not sure what to do with himself. He looked down, bowed his head respectfully and responded meekly, “Andrew Underhill, Sir.”

“Andrew Underhill?” Lorenzo repeated and looked at Magnus. “I have never heard of him. Have you?”

Magnus shook his head. “No. In fact his name has never featured in any of the reports I have received.” Magnus said, watching Andrew intensely. He was a mystery; Magnus knew all the high ranked officers and he knew for a fact Andrew’s name was not on the list and his face was not recognizable which it should have been if he was an officer of Idris. Very unusual.

“Are you scared of me?” Lorenzo asked curiously as he took a hand under his chin to look at his face. There were bruises there, healing slowly, and sullen cheeks from malnourishment. But despite that he looked beautiful…more so due to the fragility this brought to him and it made Lorenzo even more interested in him.

“Yes,” Andrew admitted softly, not sure where to look so he shifted his eyes between Lorenzo and the ground as the Warlock kept his hand on his chin, preventing Andrew from bowing his head.

“I haven’t done anything…Yet,” Lorenzo said with dark promise as desire ran through him at the beautiful creature before him. He turned Andrew’ face from side to side to better look at him.

“Please…don’t,” Andrew mumbled softly, recognizing the desire in the Warlock’s eyes and knowing well what it meant. He looked down more firmly, trying hard not to show his fear. He could endure almost anything, he had learned how to simply disappear into his own head and his body would just be there, left behind. But please, not in front of Alec, the only one who had ever shown him kindness in so many years. He didn’t want Alec to see him used in that fashion; he didn’t want to see the respect that Alec still held for him turn to disgust.

Valentine had discovered Andrew was gay a few years back and Andrew’s life had become a living hell; he was everyone’s punching bag literally and metaphorically. Beatings and rape had become every day for him. Only his fighting skills had kept him alive and his family name had kept him in the officer league though he officially had no rank. Alec had fought for Andrew to still be considered an officer despite being rankless instead of being among the common soldiers as he knew well what they would have done to Andrew. However, this kindness was now turning into a disfavor.

“Prince Bane, I….” Alec began, fearful of what might happen to Andrew, turning pleading eyes towards him, his voice soft and begging. He didn’t know the other Warlock; he didn’t know what he might do. He had heard his name, he knew he was one of Magnus’ generals and he was a fierce fighter and enemy of Idris. He also knew that reports said Lorenzo actively sought the destruction of Idris, which Lorenzo’s earlier words about wishing to see Idris destroyed confirmed. This did not bore well for Andrew’s fate should he be given to such a man. Alec got caught up in his concern for Andrew and his guilt at not having him included in the deal he had made, forgetting the rules Magnus had explained to him, rules he had thought at the time to be simple to obey.

“I warned you to speak only when you were given permission to do so. Now, quiet. I will deal with you later.” Magnus said sharply, giving him a warning look filled with anger and annoyance. He took no pleasure in punishing people and didn’t want to punish Alec but he was leaving him without a choice when he defied him publically, in front of his own people.

Magnus turned from Alec to Lorenzo.

“So, that one?” He nodded towards the frail looking Shadowhunter who seemed to be shaking ever so slightly though he tried to corneal it by squeezing his hands tightly in front of himself. The gesture made Magnus feel weirdly protective towards the Nephilim which annoyed him as the race was his enemy; an enemy who had brutally murdered and tortured thousands, millions, of downworlders. They deserved no mercy!

“Yes,” Lorenzo said with a smile as he released Andrew’s chin only to run his hand up and down Andrew’s arm in a suggestive manner.

“Don’t touch him!” Alec yelled, instinctively wanting to protect the man who had seen nothing but pain for so long, feeling guilty, knowing it could just as well have been him.

“Not another word!” Magnus hissed angrily, annoyed, his patience at an end. He followed the words with an open-handed slap to Alec’s cheek, controlling the slap to give more of a shock effort than real pain. He was annoyed at being forced into punishing the Nephilim but he couldn’t have him showing such rebellion to his command. Having Alec keep defying him in public, in front of his top generals was not something that could be overlooked and would demand harsh and swift punishment if not Magnus would lose support.

Alec rubbed his cheek and gave him a questioning look. The hit had been weirdly controlled; Valentine and Jace had hit him a lot harder than that. It was almost like Magnus was holding back.

“I will add this to your punishment,” Magnus warned darkly.

Andrew saw the display with worried eyes and wordlessly dropped to his knees before Lorenzo, his head bowed, his hands behind his back, his hands interlocked.

“Wow. This one surely knows his place! I am impressed,” Lorenzo said, intrigued, aroused and surprised. He had never thought he would see a Shadowhunter kneel; it was fascinating and satisfied his need for revenge against the race that had so horribly hurt him and his people.

“What’s his story?” Lorenzo asked curiously. There had to be something different about him; otherwise he would never have done this.

“I don’t know him. It is indeed very unusual,” Magnus agreed thoughtfully. “I have never seen this in any Shadowhunter before.” Magnus looked intensively at the kneeling Nephilim at his feet; he couldn’t deny the demon in him found the sight intoxicating. “I can see why you were drawn to him though.”

Lorenzo nodded before turning to look down at the kneeling Nephilim. “Well? What do you want to say, little one?”

“Please, let me take Alec’s punishment, Sir. He spoke out of turn only out of concern for me and I do not deserve such sacrifice,” Andrew begged, his eyes kept downcast, his voice soft.

Alec had done so much for him, done his best to protect him. He had never hurt him; in fact once Valentine had ordered him to and he had refused and had taken a brutal beating for it. Thankfully, Valentine had lost interest after that and hadn’t repeated the order; Andrew knew well that eventually everyone broke.

Alec had been the only reason Andrew had not yet killed himself; his kindness had been the only light in his world. He was readily aware that as things were now he might never see Alec again. This was his chance to finally do something for Alec. There wasn’t much he could do but he could do this. He did not expect to survive long after this; without Alec there he had no reason to keep going. Yet he felt reluctant to leave this world, cruel and unkind as it had been to him, without giving Alec something in return for his kindness. Now was his chance to do that. And then…finally, he would then be able to rest, to find peace. At times he had almost hated Alec for his kindness that had kept him alive in a world so filled with agony and pain, but above all he loved his friend with an intensity, innocence and purity that few men would ever feel for another human being.

“Oh, he’s good,” Lorenzo said gleefully as he looked down at the kneeling Nephilim. He had never seen such submission in the race before; it was truly intoxicating.

“Please, Sir. Let me make amends instead. What can I do, Sir? Anything you wish, Sir,” Andrew begged softly, keeping completely still, his eyes and head bowed, his voice soft and employing.

“Anything?” Lorenzo asked intrigued, questioning. Surely he didn’t really mean that….
“Anything, Sir,” Andrew confirmed just as calmly and surely. He had seen Lorenzo’s lustful gaze earlier and was well aware of what he was referring to. In that moment he felt a unique sense of power he hadn’t felt in years. This time he had chosen this, this time he had offered this. This time he did this for himself; this time it was his choice and his alone. For the first and likely the last….it was his decision.

“Suck me then,” Lorenzo challenged, raising an eyebrow at the kneeling Nephilim, smirking. He knew he wouldn’t. Nephilim were well known for their sexual repression; giving a blowjob out here, in front of other people…never gonna happen. Warlocks, Vampires and Seelies of course, being immortal, had no sexual hang-ups at all and werewolves had very few as well given their animalistic nature. Sexual repression of any kind in the Shadow World was really only an issue for Shadowhunters. Public sex, partners of different genders, multiple partners, domination, submission….whatever you could think of and it would not be considered unusual or “weird” in the Shadow World among Downworlders. However, everyone in the courtyard held their breath as everyone knew that as a Nephilim surely the request, the demand, would not and could not be meet no matter the price or the promise if it was done.
“Andrew!” Alec warned, not wanting Andrew to do something like this for him. He felt a sympathetic pang of humiliation for Andrew and wanted him to rise, wanted to spare him this, unaware that he was projecting his own feelings as Andrew was in fact feeling in control for the first time in ages.

“Alec, please!” Andrew begged desperately and Alec fell silent, his lips forced into a thin line. His eyes kept pleading with Andrew not to do this but Andrew was not looking at him.

Andrew moved closer to Lorenzo, not looking at him but looking at his crotch. He turned out everything else; ignored the fact that he knew all eyes were on him. He pushed his feelings aside and simply went with it, feeling no humiliation, feeling nothing but the power of his gift to Alec. His gift, his choice, his moment.

Lorenzo held his breath, not believing Andrew would do this. However, with skilled fingers Andrew managed to free his cock from his pants and pull it out. He expertly also freed his balls from the trappings of his pants and started to fondle them gently while running both hands up and down his cock till he reached full hardness.

Alec tried to turn his head away to spare Andrew what he felt was surely great embarrassment but suddenly felt Magnus’ hand on his neck, forcing his head to look in Andrew’s direction.

“He is doing it for you, because of your disobedience. The least you can do is appreciate it,” Magnus hissed in his ear, more annoyed with the fact that he couldn’t completely avoid punishing Alec despite Andrew taking the brunt of it more than anything else.

Alec stopped resisting Magnus’ grip on him and looked at Andrew on his knees, expertly taking the Warlock’s cock all the way into his mouth, using his hands to aid him. He didn’t seem to have a gag reflex anymore and Lorenzo leaded his head back, clearly enjoying being taken all the way into his mouth. Lorenzo’s hands gripped Andrew’s head on each side and he starting trusting into Andrew’s mouth with a brutal pace. Alec expected Andrew to have difficulty following but despite the humiliation and wanting it to stop Alec found himself taking mental notes of how easily Andrew seemed able to accommodate and follow the brutal fucking, clearly used to it.

Lorenzo looked down at the Nephilim at his feet and his feelings, his hatred, towards the Nephilim race flared as he saw Andrew’s runes and he pushed more forcefully into his mouth. However, as he looked down again he noticed how Andrew really was trying his very best to follow his pace, to please him with his hands, mouth and tongue. The strain from the brutal blowjob had tears forming at the corners of Andrew’s eyes but he didn’t seem to notice, intense on his task of pleasing him, his eyes seeming faraway and dazed. He didn’t seem afraid or bothered…just intense on this task and doing it well. Despite everything he thought he knew of the Nephilim race and of himself Lorenzo found himself taking pity on this fallen enemy, looking so fragile and so desperate to please him. He willed himself to let go and finish it quicker than his Warlock stamina would otherwise require, gripping Andrew’s hair tightly, moaning ever so softly as he moved in and out of Andrew’s mouth, enjoying the touch of his soft lips and skilled hands on his cock and balls, pushing him towards climax.

Lorenzo came down Andrew’s throat with a loud yell and Andrew ensured to swallow every drop, even licking him clean and licking his lips afterwards. Spent and sated Lorenzo finally released his firm hold on his hair with a dazed look at the kneeling Shadowhunter. Andrew looked up at him curiously, searching his face for clues as to whether he had done well or not.

“What an obedient little angel you are,” Lorenzo purred, smiling happily, his body flooded with endorphins as he rearranged his clothes and rebuttoned his pants. Andrew felt relieved and happy at those words; he had done well. He sat down on his knees and bowed his head, folding his hands in his lap again, awaiting a new command. Lorenzo’s praise confused him; no one had praised him in years. It made him want to smile which confused him even further but he kept looking down, unsure what to do so he chose this; hoping by showing submission Alec and he might be shown a little mercy. Valentine and his men rarely seemed to even know what the word mercy meant but at times submission did soothe their most violent impulses…a little. Maybe it would work now too? Lorenzo had taken a step forward so he was side by side with Magnus and thus was now by Andrew’s side. Almost unconsciously Andrew leaned as close to Lorenzo as he could, meaning his body was leaning towards his nearest leg.

“You are pleased with your spoils then?” Magnus asked with a hint of amusement as it was clear Lorenzo was very satisfied. He released his bruising grip on Alec’s neck and allowed him to look away from Andrew. Alec didn’t; instead he gave his friend a sympathetic and apologetic look, aware his voice of concern, spoken out of turn, had started all of this.

“I am indeed. With your permission I think I will go home and see what other uses this one can have,” Lorenzo said with a wink and as Magnus nodded his permission, Lorenzo created a portal with one hand, almost unconsciously stroking Andrew’s hair where he was leading against his leg absentminded.

Lorenzo moved towards the portal and called after Andrew who had remained kneeling at the same spot, his head bowed. Lorenzo licked his lips; he looked so perfect like that, “Come along now then, pet.”

Andrew quickly rose to his feet and with a small encouraging glance and smile at Alec as he passed him Andrew went to stand before Lorenzo. The Warlock put a possessive arm around his waist and they walked through the portal together.

When the portal closed Magnus turned to Alec who had looked after Andrew until he disappeared from view with a worried look, hoping he would see him again, hoping he would be ok.

“You are lucky your friend took the bulk of your punishment but I will still have to teach you a lesson.” Magnus’ voice was serious and slightly annoyed. He didn’t want to punish Alec and was frustrated he had pushed him into this position.

“Yes, Prince Bane,” Alec said softly and looked down, fighting his fear, hoping it wouldn’t be so bad. It couldn’t possible be worse than the punishments Valentine thought up; of that he was certain.

“Do you understand why I have to punish you?” Magnus asked almost softly, taking a gentle hand under his chin and turned his head upwards him.

“Yes, Prince,” Alec replied softly, still looking down, blushing slightly.

“Why?” Magnus asked before adding with a warning tone, his grip on his chin tightening, “Look at me.”

Alec did so at once and was surprised at the mix of emotions on Magnus face; annoyance, anger and…sympathy, maybe even a hint of….kindness?

“I spoke out of turn,” Alec replied matter of fact.

“Indeed,” Magnus agreed and released his hold on him.

With a sigh and a hint of annoyance Magnus conjured up a riding crop, holding it in his right hand. He noticed Alec wincing when he saw it but his expression was resigned; clearly punishment wasn’t new to him but then with Valentine as your leader it would be unusual if it was. Even more so if his son was your parabatai.

Lashings had been a favorite punishment by Valentine and though the prospect of facing another made Alec fearful as he well remembered the pain, he was also relieved as he knew well how to endure a punishment such as this.

“I will give you ten hits. Count them,” Magnus ordered sharply, wanting this over with quickly and just hoped Alec would understand now and not force a situation like this again.

Alec almost smiled in relief; ten, that was nothing compared to what Valentine would do if he choose a riding crop as a tool. Valentine had been well aware that the crop was considered quite soft when it came to deliver blows and thus the amount of blows needed to cause proper pain was equally higher.

Looking into Magnus’ eyes and seeing the conflicting emotions there Alec was certain Magnus was aware of this too and had chosen the tool for precisely this reason. For some reason this made Alec give him a small nod, almost as if he was giving permission. He gasped expectantly as Magnus moved closer and raised the crop. He braced himself and tensed for the pain.

“One,” Alec hissed when the first stroke fell across his back, gritting his teeth, the hit ripping into his flesh and tearing his tunic, drawing a bloody line across his back. “Two.”

By the time Alec got the word ten out he had tears down his cheeks, more from the humiliation of being punished in public than the pain. Magnus had made it easier for him to stay still and in the proper position by having reached out an arm so Alec could support himself against it while he used the other to deliver the blows.

“You took that very well, darling,” Magnus said softly as he made the crop disappear, his voice soothing.

“Thank you, Prince,” Alec got out when he realized he was supposed to respond. He was angry at himself for realizing that he enjoyed the praise from Magnus. He was not used to praise; he couldn’t really recall the last time anyone had praised him for anything. If he did well he could avoid punishment and that had been the best he could hope for.

“I will clean you up later. For now let it be a reminder of the price of disobedience,” Magnus said evenly but despite his words he snapped his fingers and Alec sighed in relief as a cream of some kind covered the wounds on his back, nulling the pain.

Just then Meliorn came over and bent the knee before Magnus, choosing to show extra respect despite having already bent the knee earlier for him and thus he strictly speaking would not have to repeat it now, just in case the Demon Prince was still upset after delivering the punishment to Alec.

“May I take Isabelle with me now, my Prince?” he asked evenly, careful not to betray his desire to have her alone with him.

Magnus nodded and waved a hand to indicate he could raise which he did. “Sure. Bring her to me first though. I want to talk to her.”

“Yes, my Prince,” Meliorn readily agreed and moved away. He went to the magical enclosure and waved for Isabelle to move forward. Jace put a warning hand on her arm when she smiled at the Seelie King, clearly relieved it was him coming for her, stopping her from moving towards the barrier. She said something to him, eyes filled with warmth and kindness, clearly reassuring him. Jace removed his hand reluctantly. She embraced him before she moved to stand in front of Meliorn, only the barrier separating them. Magnus did a wave of his hand and the barrier faded for a second. Meliorn wasted no time in pulling Isabelle through it and she literally fell into his embrace. Magnus did another wave of his hand and the barrier was back in place. Meliorn easily caught Isabelle, steadied her and smiled at her more tenderly than someone surely should be smiling at their captive. However, she smiled back at him with much more affection than one should rightly show ones captor. When they drew apart Meliorn gallantly took her right hand and put it to his lips, kissing it the way he had done when he had been a Knight and she had been a Lightwood, the closest to Idris nobility that there was. She almost had tears in her eyes when he pulled away, this show of kindness almost too much to take in this place, at this time. With a gentle hand on her back the Seelie King guided her towards Magnus. When they stood before him Meliorn bowed his head respectfully.

“Lord Bane,” Isabelle said softly, keeping her head bowed and her eyes lowered.

“Prince Bane,” he corrected, letting her mistake of speaking without being spoken to slide as well as her lack of kneeling; she was about to be handed over to the Seelie King – no use in teaching her proper protocol now. Meliorn would ensure she knew what she needed to know before he met her next.

“Prince Bane,” she mimicked dutifully, her voice soft like velvet and her eyes still kept on the ground.

“Come,” Magnus took a hand under her elbow and guided her a bit away before snapping his fingers and an invisible barrier was around them so no one could listen to their conversation.

“Isabelle, your brother has bartered this deal for you that you now belong to King Meliorn,” he told her and was pleased when she didn’t react. However, he could see a small relieved smile on her lips. This had indeed been a good deal for her.

Magnus took a hand under her chin and she let him but her eyes stayed lowered. “Keep behaving this well and you will do fine. You are a beautiful woman; you can do well in the Seelie realm if you play your cards right.” She nodded mutely and Magnus smiled in pleasure; she could go far if she kept this up; she seemed to know how to act and behave. “Forget ever having been a Shadowhunter, that life is over for you now. Look ahead and create a new life.”

Silently tears slipped from her eyes at hearing Magnus’ words. She had never enjoyed Idris but it was all she had ever known. Magnus wiped a tear away from her cheek with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“Your bother made this deal for you so if you do anything to make Meliorn regret his prize I will have no other choice than to punish your brother as well so for everyone’s sake I trust you will behave,” Magnus warned, making it clear it was a scenario he didn’t want and either would they.

Isabelle nodded eagerly to agree with that statement but bit her lower lip to prevent herself from replying to it, not sure if she should or could and chose to err on the side of caution.

“You may answer me,” he allowed, wanting her to be able to voice any misunderstandings or concerns she might have.

“Thank you, Prince Bane. I will,” she said softly, her eyes still kept down.

“Good girl,” Magnus praised, smiling a little.

“Please…be kind to my brother,” she begging softly, her eyes still downcast but it was clear it was a struggle for her to do that when pleading for her brother.

“That will depend on him but I am not a cruel man, Isabelle, but I will have order in my own house,” Magnus replied honestly, calmly.

She nodded understanding but her hands still formed fists, worried for him.

“Please tell him I love him,” she begged softly, offering her brother the only support she had left.

“I am certain he knows.” Magnus replied, his voice and expression surprisingly soft. “Now, come, go to Meliorn and begin a new life and use it well. With your beauty and your brains I would not be surprised to see you become his consort one day,” he encouraged.

“Will I be de-runed?” she asked fearfully, her voice still soft, her eyes still looking down.

“Yes, before you leave with him. My people will see to it.”

“My memories?” her voice was soft and weak, the fear was now almost a tangible thing between them.
“Your brother ensured you get to keep your memories,” he calmed her and she visible relaxed.

“Thank you,” she said heartfelt, overcome with emotions.

“Go on now and don’t make me regret this,” Magnus ordered, feeling uncomfortable in the light of her gratitude when he felt he had done very little, except to accept her brother’s deal.

“I won’t, Prince Bane. Thank you,” she promised eagerly, nodding her head to emphasize her point.

Magnus removed the silent barrier and watched her go to Meliorn. When she reached him she bowed down for him, falling to her knees and Magnus smiled inwardly; good girl! Meliorn reached out and stocked her cheek tenderly before ordering her to rise. When she did so he took her hand ever so softly, like she was made of precious glass, guided her towards his Knights and they left to find the nearest gateway to the Seelie Realm.

Alec had watched his sister with worry but seeing how Meliorn was towards her he felt relieved and he was smiling ever so softly as he watched her disappear from sight and out of his life. He had done right by her, given her the best deal he could and that was all that really mattered to him.

Magnus was torn from his musings when he saw Ragnor approach him from the mansion, a grim look on his face. Ragnor was an elder British Warlock who walked with a cane. He had the air and dress of a British gentleman from the 1880s.

“Ragnor, my friend,” Magnus said warmly, smiling.

“Magnus, my Prince,” Ragnor replied respectfully as he came to him and with difficulty bent a knee for him. Magnus reached over to help him up but Ragnor waved him away, using his cane to get to his feet. His smile died when he looked at Jace among the prisoners. Jace met his gaze head on, no heat in his eyes but a sense of pride and strength that would be difficult to match elsewhere.

“I heard you had captured that one,” Ragnor nodded towards Jace, hatred in his eyes, remembering the torture he had suffered at his hands. Jace had been a skilled torturer; luckily less skilled than Valentine who had only once taken over to show his son how it was done. Thank Lilith for small mercies.

“Yes, this is all that remains of his elite team,” Magnus explained evenly. “Well, there was one other captive, Andrew Underhill. Lorenzo wanted him.”

“Already left to go enjoy his victory?” Ragnor said knowingly.

“You know him; impulsive at the best of times,” Magnus said with a hint of annoyance but also the kind of overbarence you show an impudent child.

Lorenzo had been one of several warlocks Magnus had rescued almost six years ago from one of Valentine’s prison camps – only to discover Valentine had experimented on the prisoners, tortured them, and tormented them mercilessly. Lorenzo was the only warlock who had survived more than a few weeks after being rescued. According to Warlock law he now owned Magnus a Life Debt which meant his life now belonged to Magnus to do with as he wished. He had required Lorenzo to aid him in his war effort in every way possible and since then he had been his right hand Warlock, a general in his army. Despite the power imbalance between the two Warlocks they had over time become friends even though they were quite different. The job as Magnus’ right hand Warlock had used to be Ragnor’s until he had been captured and since his rescue he had been unable to continue taking part in the war. Ragnor’s body had been rescued but a part of his mind had never recovered from the torture. Like Lorenzo Ragnor also had the Circle tattoo marking his flesh; a permanent reminder of the torment and pain he had endured. His Circle tattoo was on his right arm, near his shoulder and thus easier to cover than Lorenzo’s.

“True,” Ragnor said with a smile. However, his smile died and his expression hardened when he spoke again, “So, what are you going to do with him?” he nodded towards Jace, still standing defiantly behind the magical barrier.

“I will give him to Luke,” Magnus said evenly, calmly. He knew what Jace had done to Ragnor but war was about politics; not personal vendettas. Well, not always at least.

“What?!” Ragnor asked shocked.

“He will serve us better like this; we get to turn Idris’s best warrior to fight for us,” Magnus explained, having fully expected this part of his deal with Alec to be the toughest sell.

“No!” Ragnor protested hotly.

“This is not up for discussion,” Magnus warned, his eyes narrowing.

“I can’t believe it!” Ragnor thundered. “I am owed retribution!”

Magnus hesitated for just a moment but Warlock Law was clear on this; Ragnar was indeed owed retribution.

“I will give you five hours with him before handing him over to Luke. Do with him as you wish but no permanent damage,” Magnus offered calmly.

“Five hours?!” Ragnor hissed angrily, disbelieving. His pain was worth more than five hours!

Alec tensed, wanting to protest but the wounds on his back made it clear that it wouldn’t matter if he did so, in fact it would likely just make matters worse, so he wisely kept silent. Instead, he tried to send reassuring feelings towards Jace through their bond but as Jace had closed off their bond on his end days ago he wasn’t sure if he felt it.

Magnus narrowed his eyes, his eyes flashing his beginning anger, a clear warning.

“Take it while the offer is still on the table. The five hours must be concluded by tonight so Luke can take him,” Magnus said strongly. Ragnar was his friend but politics, leadership, came first.

Ragnar saw the threat in Magnus’s eyes if he kept pushing and wisely stepped down. “Fine!” he hissed, annoyed, the hatred in his voice and eyes at Jace very clear.

Magnus allowed his expression to soften as he said, “I know you my friend. You are not without skills. You can make five hours feel like five weeks worth of pain. At least!”

Ragnar had a dark expression on his face when he nodded; yes, his own ordeal had taught him well how to deliver pain just as Valentine and his men had taught him how to endure it.

With that Ragnar gave a bow for Magnus and with his nod of permission he left to go set up his revenge.

“I think that’s all the excitement we can handle for now,” Magnus said with a wry look at Alec who wisely kept his eyes downcast and his head bowed. His back hurt but it was manageable, his throat and lips hurt but it was also manageable. However, he was really starting to feel drained and tired after everything he had endured in the last 24 hours and just really wanted a chance to be alone and not be on his guard.

“Raphael!” Magnus called over his shoulder, knowing Raphael would have remained close by.

“Yes, my Prince?” Raphael asked dutifully as soon as he reached him, bowing his head respectfully.

“Have the remaining prisoners interrogated and give me an update on that in two days so I can decide on their fate and how to proceed based on that intel,” Magnus ordered.

“Yes, my Prince,” Raphael readily agreed.

Magnus waved him away with a dismissive hand gesture but also a kind smile which made Raphael smile back. Magnus now turned his attention back to Alec who had kept his eyes downcast.

“Come. I will show you where you will be staying from now on,” Magnus promised, his voice kind again.

“Yes, Prince,” Alec responded softly as Magnus put a hand on his lower back, beneath the marks from the riding crop, and guided him back towards the mansion.

“Hmm….Hopefully you have learned this lesson now,” Magnus said softly as his eyes caught the wounds he had inflicted on his back; they were small red welts, quite superficial in nature but still bleeding a little and very uncomfortable. Though he knew it had had to be done Magnus still didn’t like it and in particular didn’t like seeing this reminder of it. With a wave of his hand Alec’s wounds were bandaged and the torn tunic was replaced with a fresh one and his pants, which had also had splashes of blood on them, were also clean again.

Alec smiled a little as the pain subsided.

“Yes, Prince, thank you, Prince,” he said softly as they reached the mansion and guards opened the large double doors for them.

“Are you just humoring me now?” Magnus asked in surprise but with a hint of intrigue.

Sensing this Alec replied softly, with a hint of his trademark sarcastic humor, “Maybe, Prince.”

Magnus couldn’t help it; he laughed. He hadn’t laughed in years. What an odd sensation.

 

Chapter Text

Please read the author's notes for chapter warnings

Chapter 5: Father and Son

“Never back down, you'll never wear my crown cause it weighs too much and I crush every motherfucking thing I touch.” ( And We Run, Within Temptation)

Magnus had gone to the library connected to his main operations center in the left wing of his mansion after leaving Alec in his private chambers. The library was large with wooden panels and books from floor to ceiling and ladders added here and there for none magical beings to reach the books on the upper shelves. The library had two large floor to ceiling windows with heavy draping that the staff had pulled aside to let the sunlight in. There was also a globe from the 1830s, a bar trolley, fully stocked of course, and seating areas in two separate corners with a desk and four chairs in one and two chairs around a smaller table in the other. The room was held entirely in early 1800s colonial style; a testament to Lorenzo having had some influence on the design when Magnus had ordered the mansion magically built and decorated to use as his home and the headquarters for the Allied forces.

Magnus conjured himself a drink as he searched for the book he was looking for but his mind kept wondering to the enigma that was the Nephilim waiting for him in his private chambers.

Before Valentine, before the war, he had distrusted the Nephilim race but he had never hated them. That had first started when Valentine had tortured him and had only escalated from there. Ragnor’s torment had been a key milestone in cementing the hardening of his heart. However, his complete and utter contempt for the Nephilim race had become a fact when he had personally come to see the first camp they had liberated. Like most, he too had been doubtful that the rumors of the horrors of the camps were true. Standing there among broken bodies, where even the Downworlders left alive were dead…the horror he had seen; death chambers, torture chambers called “doctor’s quarters” or even “hospital”….the experiments Valentine had his people conduct had been gruesome and cruel to an extent Magnus felt even Greater Demons would be jealous. Seeing how long a vampire could survive submerged in water without nourishment, how long a Warlock could keep a crushing pile of rocks from falling…Werewolf babies torn from their mother’s arms to be disposed of as trash because they had ‘no value’, no useful function. At the liberation of that first camp Magnus and his forces had went to the defeated Institute where the Shadowhunters responsible for the camp had stayed. Those there who hadn’t worked in the camps had claimed they hadn’t known of the horrors conducted there but how could they not? The camp was their neighbor and if not the black smoke and stench of the burning bodies would be a clue then surely the cries from mothers’ who witnessed their babies dying…such a scream would surely have been able to ruse Heaven if ever there had been any hint of justice for Downworlders in this world. As Magnus had painfully learned; justice for Downworlders had to be taken; it would never be given!

Magnus had been able to respect Alexander as an enemy as he, unlike most of his peers, had a kind of honor. He had no connection to the camps and were considered a fierce but fair fighter on the battlefield. However, that didn’t mean he was innocent; far from it. Some of Magnus' own soldiers had extracted their revenge on common Shadowhunter prisoners against his direct orders. They had been dealt with quickly and decisively but Magnus knew he was responsible for their actions and he would carry that with him until the end of his days. In the same way, Alexander was not innocent just as he was not.

However, what had really fascinated him with Alexander had been how different he had been from other Shadowhunters. He clearly didn’t believe in Valentine’s vision despite having fought to keep the man in power; if he had then he would never had been able to kneel before a Downworlder. He would never had been able to offer the deal he had done. It were these facts about him that had enabled Magnus to say yes; otherwise no amount of power in the Universe would ever have been enough for him to accept such a deal from a Nephilim.

Alexander though...he was fascinating in other ways too. The combination of strength and fragility, defiance and submission that he saw in the man was intoxicating and was speaking to both his demonic and human side. He had never imagined he would ever find a Nephilim desirable; they were his enemy. Their runes the symbol of the torment he himself had endured and the suffering of his people, of the entire Downworld. A part of him hated himself for lusting after him like this but the demon in him thought it was perfect; he was his to do with as he pleased after all so why not exploit it, use it…and enjoy it?

Magnus sighed. He really needed to figure out what he actually wanted to do with Alexander; he didn’t feel like he could just keep him in his chambers forever. Though Alec had showed he understood how to submit his spirit was clearly not used to the idea; his eyes were observant, his wit, when allowed to show it, was clearly sharp. Only his honor in the promise, in the deal he had made, prevented Alec from being a very large flight risk, a larger risk than would have been worth it. Magnus had come to believe that Alec did mean it and would fulfil the deal, knowing that otherwise Magnus wouldn’t fulfill his. Well, he wasn’t an idiot; he had still left guards outside the entrance to his chambers and the chambers were magically sealed.

Yesterday he would never had thought he would have the former general of Idris, Alexander Lightwood, waiting for him in his chambers, his in every way he wanted him to be. He guessed he was therefore excused for not quite knowing what to really do with that fact just yet…well, besides the obvious because the angel was simply too tempting not to claim as his in the most intimate way possible.

Magnus could claim he had made the deal with Alexander for power and influence but when he was alone with his thoughts, he had to admit that there was another reason, a private reason. He carried the burden of leadership and command alone. While what he had told Alec was true, he did have more willing bed partners than he knew what to do with, none of them could be truly trusted. All would want something; protection, a favor, influence…Alec’s was his in every way which also meant he had no other choice than to be loyal to him. Magnus could finally let go, be himself. He might even one day talk to Alec about his fears and worries, knowing Alec would not be able to betray him and retell it to anyone. His father had always said his fear of loneliness, his desire for companionship was his greatest weakness and Magnus was not stupid enough not to accept that his need for someone, someone safe, wasn’t a large reason as well for him accepting the deal.

He had his close allies and friends like Raphael, Catarina, Ragnor and Lorenzo but he could never be weak in front of them, he could never be needy, be in doubt, waver in his decisions. They all looked to him for strength and he couldn’t fail. When he had accepted the deal with Alec a part of him had hoped that in time, with him, maybe he could be weak, he could admit to his hesitations and doubts because Alec could never retell them. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe in concepts such as love – he didn’t deserve love and neither did Alec – but maybe he could find a few moments of peace in his arms and if Alec played his cards right…then maybe so could he.

Magnus found the spell book he had been looking for, needing it for one of the spells they were using against the defenses at Alicante and forced his thoughts away from Alexander. The Nephilim had already started to fill more space in his mind than he thought was healthy.

A shiver suddenly ran through him like spiders all over his skin, interrupting his musings. He knew that feeling.

Magnus frowned as he looked at the large gold framed mirror hanging on one of the walls. He walked over to it and looked directly into it.

“Father, I can feel you. You can show yourself,” Magnus said evenly but with a hint of steel, not in the mood for games. He was in the middle of planning the invasion of Alicante after all.

The mirror flickered and changed to reveal his father, Asmodeus. He smiled at him, his eyes cunning, the smile devious.

“Son,” he exclaimed, as if the statement was meant to carry weight with Magnus.

“What do you want?” Magnus asked directly, impatiently.

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t just see how my son is doing?”

“Father, I don’t have time for games right now,” Magnus warned irritably.

“So I gather,” Asmodeus replied, his smile fading. “I will get straight to it then. You have managed to get hold of a Nephilim soul, freely given. That has never happened in all of history. How did you manage that?” Asmodeus tried not to sound envious and eager but failed on both accounts.

“Never mind that. The soul is mine,” Magnus warned, his eyes narrowing and he allowed his Mark to show in warning.

When Shadowhunters died their souls returned to Heaven to live out an eternity of peace. A Nephilim soul in hell would be doomed forever to eternal damnation. It was a punishment so severe it had never been implemented since the original rebellious angels had been cast down from Heaven. A soul freely offered to hell held immense power; it was rare even for Mundanes to sell their souls, rarer for Downworlders who knew what such a fate meant and unheard of among Nephilim.

“Of course,” Asmodeus assured him quickly, too quickly.

“I mean it,” Magnus said with a threatening edge to his voice.

Asmodeus made a dismissive wave of his hand, clearly not the least intimidated by his son.

“Sure, sure,” Asmodeus said before he paused. “So, what do you plan to do with it?”

“You mean will I make a move against you?” Magnus guessed where his father’s concerns really lay. “No, not at the moment.”

Asmodeus relaxed somewhat but looked suspicious and doubtful at the same. “Hmm…So what will you do with it? You can’t keep it in limbo like this forever.”

Magnus sighed, a bit annoyed at being questioned like this. “I know.”

“So you can give the soul of the Nephilim to Edom and let him suffer for eternity, earning you the title as King of Hell; ruler of not only Edom but all demonic realms and all their demonic creatures.” Magnus gave him a look that said he knew this; it was this power, the power to control demons, he had found useful as a last resort against Valentine. “Or you bind yourself to him,” Asmodeus said, naming a second choice.

Magnus looked surprised at him, not understanding the second option. “Bind myself to him? That’s possible? Why would I do that?”

Asmodeus gave him a look Magnus couldn’t decipher. “As he gave his soul to you then it is also yours to bind. If you choose to do so, your life forces and souls would mix. You would share powers and immortality. You would become the strongest being alive; a Prince of Edom with Nephilim powers; it has never happened before. His pure energy would boost your magical abilities beyond measure – as it has never happened in recorded history no one can say for sure but it would be incredible.” There was now no doubt why Asmodeus found this so intriguing; if he could get a freely given Nephilim soul he would be able to do just that, to become that powerful. Asmodeus’ eyes darkened and he waved a dismissive hand. “Sure, you would need to keep the Nephilim alive too as your lives, and deaths, would also be linked but hey; no one said he had to be conscious or painless – just alive,” Asmodeus said with an evil smile and wink.

“I will keep that under advisement,” Magnus said dryly. He had no particular desire to be bound for eternity to a fallen enemy where if he died so would Magnus and vice versa, sharing his immortality with someone like that, no matter how handsome or interesting he might be. Besides, he had no need, at the moment, for such excess power. However, it was good to know. If all else failed he could take this choice to defeat Valentine. It was a better choice than control of demons as everyone knew demons could not be trusted. However, it was still an extreme measure he would rather avoid.

“Do that, my son,” Asmodeus advised with an eager nod and Magnus frowned; his father was no doubt thinking of ways he would be able to use his son’s powers to his advantage should he be bound to Alec.

“So, how fare your war with Lilith?” Magnus asked to change the subject, not so much because he actually cared. Though that said he would rather see his father rule Edom than Lilith; the enemy you know and all that. Not to mentation that his positon as leader of the Downworld was, regrettably, built on the royal demonic bloodline of his father as Warlock Law dictated. Thus having Asmodeus dethroned would not be good for his powerbase.

“Well, the deal I made with you has worked excellently. The mutated child Valentine created, Sebastian, was the perfect bait for Lilith,” Asmodeus admitted with a dark smile.

“As soon as I felt her blood in him I assumed as much,” Magnus said evenly.

The young man, Sebastian, had been captured when they had freed one of Valentine’s camps a few months back. Sebastian had been the commander of the camp and had proven to rival even Valentine in how cruelly he had treated the prisoners there. Magnus’ magic had right away sensed the Queen of Edom in him and Raphael had told him he also smelled angel blood in him. The boy was a dangerous mix that should naturally never have existed. He had powers beyond compare and a twisted sense of loyalty to his father. Magnus had only with great difficulty managed to keep Sebastian trapped long enough to send him through a portal to Edom; even he didn’t have enough powers while on earth to kill him though he might have been able to do it if he had been in Edom. However, he had betted his father would have enough powers while in Edom to kill him there.

“Well, her warriors fought well but in the end she wasn’t willing to sacrifice the boy. That was her weakness and I can now call myself King of Edom; Lilith is no more,” his father said with a wide grin, pride and contentment in his voice.

“Congratulations are in order I presume.” Magnus said dryly. “And the boy?”

Asmodeus shrugged. “Still alive. I am trying to figure out what makes him tick.”

Magnus’ eyes narrowed. “Are you insane? This is like Batman keeping the joker alive!” Magnus raged and could see the pop culture reference was as lost on his demonic father as on most beings in the Downworld; seriously, a little Mundane education wasn’t out of the question even in times of war.

Magnus took a deep breath and rephrased in a way his father would understand, “What I mean is he is a product of Nephilim blood and Lilith, Queen of Edom. He’s too dangerous to live; that’s why I gave him to you.”

Asmodeus went from looking annoyed to thoughtful. “Hmm…Point taken. I have no further use of him anyway.”

Suddenly Asmodeus disappeared from view and the mirror showed only flickers of red flames and blackness. For a moment Magnus thought his father had left but had somehow not closed the connection. Then he heard something.

“No, no…please, no,” a voice, a young man’s voice, sounding way more human than Magnus thought it should echoed from somewhere behind the mirror, from Edom, followed by an agonizing scream before silence settled.

Asmodeus returned in view of the mirror, smiling evilly and wiped some blood spatter from his cheek.

Well, that answered the question if Asmodeus could kill him.

“You couldn’t have closed your connection with me before doing that?” Magnus asked annoyed.

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow at him. “Why? Bothered by his pain?”

“No, just annoyed,” Magnus said truthfully. Once he would have been bothered, once he would have been bothered by a great many things in this war, in how things were. Not anymore. He could not afford the innocence and naivety he had once had.

Asmodeus shrugged. “Anyway, dead now.”

“So I figured,” Magnus said dryly.

“I have heard you are also close to winning your war on Heaven,” Asmodeus inquired, clearly interested.

“Just the Nephilim; the deal Lilith and you brokered at the dawn of time still holds; if Edom doesn’t interfere then neither will Heaven,” Magnus corrected him.

“Their downfall,” Asmodeus said arrogantly.

“Well, for ages it worked to the advantage of the Nephilim that neither side interfered with the war fought here on earth,” Magnus reminded him.

“That was only until my son remembered his true calling. I am proud of you,” Asmodeus said with a smile that was almost warm but also only almost.

Magnus shook his head, a small hint of regret at the innocence he had lost during this war reflecting in his eyes. “I am not sure I want to say thank you for that,” he admitted quietly.

The King of Edom laughed before closing the connection with a wave of his hand and the mirror became just that again; a mirror.

Magnus stood in silence for a while, thoughtful, thinking of the Warlock he had been before the war. Thinking of his loft in Brooklyn, the carefree parties…his flirting and most of all his innocence, his morality…how certain he had been back then of where his lines were, what he would do and never do, what was right and wrong. Things were a lot greyer now; it was impossible to stay innocent when the world was painted in blood and tears.

Magnus shook his head to clear it from those thoughts and left the library with the spell book he had needed. The two guards outside the library stood at attention when he opened the door and left down the hallway. As he got closer to the operations room there were more guards standing at attention, in particularly outside the War Room; the conference room wherein Magnus discussed intimate battle plans with his closest generals – Raphael, his mate Simon, Lorenzo, Luke, Luke’s mate Joselyn, Catarina, Ragnor and Meliorn. The nine of them formed the Allied War Cabinet, the highest level of authority in the Downworld, superseded only by Magnus’ royal power and authority. The orders of the War Cabinet could only be overruled by royal decree from Magnus himself, something he had yet never done as Magnus alone held the right to veto any decision the War Cabinet made, thus ensuring he would never need to use his power to override the Cabinet’s rulings. These days Ragnor’s membership of the Cabinet was mostly symbolic as his mental anguish after his torture meant he was rarely able to attend and he in general kept to himself or visited with Magnus or Catarina alone.

The War Cabinet could take decisions if ½ were present, excluding Magnus as no decisions could be made if he wasn’t present, which meant most decisions were taken between Raphael, Simon, Magnus, Lorenzo and Luke – simply because they were closest. Raphael and Simon lived in Magnus’ mansion, in the opposite wing to him, and had their own private chambers there, Lorenzo had his own mansion outside of New York and were just a portal way while Luke lived in New York City in a large flat with his mate and adopted child, Clarissa. Catarina lived in a flat in New York City too with her adoptive daughter, Madzie, but would often travel as part of her responsibilities, whereas Meliorn was in another realm. Joselyn’s presence at the meetings were rare as she ruled the Werewolves in her husband’s absence. However, both had a seat in the Cabinet as Magnus owned them his life for getting him out of Alicante when he had been Valentine’s prisoner. They were two of the few Shadowhunters, former Shadowhunters, Magnus cared for these days.

Another Nephilim Magnus had cared for during the War had been Jia Penhallow. He had developed great admiration for her, a Shadowhunter who had opposed Valentine and had continued to do so in secret after his ascend to power. She had even been involved in a failed plot to end his life. Magnus had communicated secretly with her, admiring her strength and conviction to stay and fight to free her people from Valentine’s dark influence after he had offered to try to get her out. She had been killed a few years ago after helping her daughter, Aline Penhallow, and Helen Blackthorn escape Idris, using Magnus’ help to get them out, choosing to stay behind to ensure their safe escape. Magnus had thought the Nephilim unable to feel such motherly affection as Jia had shown and he had mourned her passing, even more so as news of the brutality with which Valentine had punished her for her betrayal had reached the Downworld. Magnus had made good on the last promise he had given Jia; to ensure the safety of Aline and Helen. They now lived together in peace in the Seelie Realm, safe and secure, Aline considered a Downworlder through her marriage to Helen and were thus above reproach and would be addressed and considered a Seelie in all ways.

Thinking of the War Cabinet reminded Magnus that he should probably get a runner out to Lorenzo’s mansion tomorrow around lunchtime to ensure he was at the War Cabinet meeting taking place that afternoon. Lorenzo was a man who gave into his desires and didn’t try and control himself like Magnus did. His clear fascination with the Nephilim, Andrew, might lead him to forget the meeting in the mist of his passions. However, Lorenzo had worked hard on breeching the magical barrier around Alicante these past few weeks and deserved some hours off. But also just a few; Magnus needed him back for the meeting tomorrow. He knew it was a bit unfair to have Lorenzo in the Cabinet as the Life Debt Lorenzo owned him made it very easy for Magnus to sway him to his side, but then war and politics were not won by being nice.

As Magnus got to the operations room he could see multiple people inside including Maia, Luke’s second in command, Joselyn, his wife, and another Werewolf officer was there, several Seelie Knights and Raphael and Simon were there too. The room was filled with computers, maps, desks, chairs, large monitors attached to the walls and papers and files. There was lively chatter and discussion. When Magnus entered the room, the whole room fell silent at once and all eyes were on him.

“Please, remain as you were and continue,” he said with a wave of his hand, stopping their movement towards bending the knee in respect. He noticed Catarina Loss was there too. She was responsible for the medical branch of his army and would be there to either report on casualties and wounded or talk supplies. Ragnor rarely came to the operations room when he had something to discuss; too many wounds on his soul would never heal and had left him a shell of the Warlock he had used to be. He did help from his mansion in London, safe behind wards raised by Magnus himself for extra protection. From there he helped coordinate the complicated supply chain needed for the Allied army and in order to feed and care for the civilian Downworld population.

Magnus had both been surprised and had expected Ragnor would overcome his fears and come to see him when news of Jace being captured had reached him. Magnus feverishly hoped that by getting some revenge maybe his old friend could finally find some measure of peace though he doubted it. In his experience blood paid for by blood always left a stain, justifiable as it might be.

The room went back to chatter at Magnus’ order and Magnus started smiling at Raphael and Simon as he walked over to them. His smile faded a bit in concern when he noticed Raphael looked worried and Simon looked troubled.

“I…I just can’t right now!” Simon snapped at Raphael and turned on his heels with an air of annoyance and pain in his eyes. He almost collided with Magnus in his eagerness to leave the room.

“Easy there,” Magnus said gently, steadying Simon as he almost fell as he sidestepped him.

“Ah! I am so sorry your prince, highness, majesty….Magnus,” Simon babbled, blushing as he did a half bow while also trying to bend the knee and managing to do both wrong.

Magnus raised an amused eyebrow at him.

“Raphael,” Magnus started to say, with humor in his tone. He didn’t have to say anything else as Raphael was at Simon’s side at once.

“Will you excuse us for just a moment, my prince?” Raphael said with a small perfectly executed bow as he took a firm grip on Simon’s elbow, ignoring that he was trying to weasel away from him. He stopped struggling when Raphael gave him an annoyed look.

“Of course,” Magnus agreed, amusement still in his voice.

Raphael nodded his head in thanks. As he was to lead Simon out of the room Magnus stopped him with a hand on his arm. Raphael looked questioning up at him.

“Háblame en cualquier momento. Siempre estoy aquí para ti, hijo. Tú lo sabes. [Talk to me anytime. I am always here for you, son. You know that.],” Magnus reminded him in his native Spanish, his voice and eyes soft now, the father in him speaking and not the leader.

Raphael nodded his thanks and gave his hand on his arm a small squeeze in thanks.

“Gracias padre [Thanks, father],” Raphael said heartfelt before Magnus released his arm.

Raphael guided Simon out of the operations room as Magnus looked after them for a moment before going over to speak with Catarina.

When they were outside in the hallway Raphael guided Simon a little further away, down the hallway until they were alone, away from the guards. Finally, he released his hold on Simon.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Simon complained when they stood facing each other in the hall.

Raphael sighed in annoyance. “I am not babysitting you, Si. You are clearly troubled.”

Simon shook his head stubbornly. “I’m fine.”

Raphael forced himself to ignore his anger and instead focus on his worry and love. He took a gentle hand up and softly touched Simon’s cheek.

“Please speak to me, mi rayo de sol [my sunshine],” Raphael asked tenderly, concern evident in his tone.

Simon blushed but his eyes shined with affection at hearing his mate’s Spanish nickname for him, spoken with such love and reverence.

Valentine had wanted to capture Raphael since he had become the vampire leader. He had managed to do it by having some of his soldiers capture his Mundane sister, his last living relative, an old lady with increasing dementia. Raphael had surrounded to the Nephilim soldiers on the promise they would let his sister go. They had lied. They had cut her throat before his very eyes and had laughed when the smell of blood had made his vampire teeth appear while he had been screaming her name in agony. They had not even let him hold her as her life had slipped away from her.

He had been taken to a Shadowhunter stronghold in New York, awaiting transport to Idris. It was then they had made the mistake of experimenting on him by injecting him with something. The unintended result had been that he had become a Daylighter. Magnus had managed to rescue him quickly and swiftly, while he had still been at the stronghold in New York. With Catarina’s help they had discovered purified angel blood had made this happen and she had used blood from captured prisoners to synthesize an injection for Simon as well. Magnus had decided for now not to share the cure publically, wanting to control who became a Daylighter for now, knowing the power this gave him and the power it would give anyone who knew about it.

However, the nickname Raphael used for Simon was not because he too was a Daylighter. Raphael had always seen Simon as the sunlight of his life. They had met when Simon had been a Mundane and the day Raphael had been approached by Valentine’s men, explaining they had his sister, the Shadowhunters had mortality wounded Simon and left him behind for dead; a Mundane who knowingly associated with Downworlders and defended one as fiercely as Simon had done was not considered worthy of saving according to the teachings of Valentine and his party, the Circle.

Raphael had been deeply distraught when he had let himself be taken to his sister, thinking Simon had died and just hoping he would at least be able to save his sister and then get revenge before he had resigned himself to death, taking as many Nephilim with him as he possibly could.

However, Magnus had found Simon just in time – thankfully Simon had been alert enough to dial Magnus for help with his last breath. Magnus had managed to put a spell on Simon that froze him in time. However, when Magnus had rescued Raphael he had been forced to do something he had thought he would never do. He had had to turn Simon, make him a vampire, in order to save him. Raphael’s hatred towards the Nephilim race was not for what he had been put through, but above all he owed them for his sister and Simon’s life.

“It’s just…” Simon sighed helplessly, pain in his eyes, taking Raphael's attention back to the present. “The patrol at the southern gate was unsuccessful.”

A small patrol, 10 Downworlders, had been sent on a mission yesterday to try to sneak into Alicante though the southern gate in the hope the barrier would be weak enough and they would be undiscovered. Catarina had just grimly informed them that that had not been the case and all of them had been killed.

“I know, Si. I heard,” Raphael reminded him gently, having been present when Catarina had told the news.

“Raph…I planned that mission. I picked the people,” Simon said agonized, fisting his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“I know, Si. It’s ok. You did a great job,” Raphael calmed him, taking him into his embrace. At first Simon struggled against him but when Raphael’s arms strayed around him, safe and strong, he melted against him, putting his head by his shoulder, his arms around his waist.

“I hate this,” Simon mumbled against his neck, sniffling softly as he fought back tears.

“What do you hate, mi rayo de sol [my sunshine]?” Raphael asked softly, kissing the top of his head.

“This, everything. This war,” Simon admitted softly against his neck, fighting to still his tears. They stood in silence for a while before Simon added brokenly, “Those people died because of me, Raph.”

Raphael drew a little back so Simon could see his face. However, he was avoiding his eyes, stil hiding by his shoulder. “Si, look at me,” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. When Simon lifted his head and looked at him, Raphael smiled lovingly at him. “This is war. People die. I fought as a mortal in World War 2; I know war. I have known war my whole life and I know one thing. You are a good officer. A killing officer as we would say back then,” Raphael said seriously.

Simon gave him a confused look. “What does that mean?”

“A killing officer gets you killed by accident,” Raphael explained seriously. “A murdering officer does it for glory, God, country or something like that.” He gave Simon a piercing look, wanting to force him to believe him. “You are a great officer, Simon.”

Simon smiled a little before he put his arms around his neck. He looked into Raphael’s eyes, seeking permission, always respecting Raphael’s boundaries when it came to intimacy. When Raphael nodded slightly Simon gave him a loving and tender kiss on the lips.

“Thank you,” Simon said sincerely as he drew back, his voice and face filled with emotion and above all; love.

Raphael smiled back and touched his cheek tenderly. “Never thank me for being there for you. I always will be. You’re my mate for eternity.”

“I still can’t believe you think you can stand me for eternity,” Simon said with some of his normal brightness, humor and a hint of his old mortal insecurity.

Raphael smirked but the love in his eyes made it clear to Simon there was nothing he wanted more. “You’re a handful and you talk too much,” Raphael said with his usual sarcastic humor.

“Hey!” Simon protested with a mock insulted air.

“But,” Raphael added, smiling lovingly. “You also brighten up not only my life but the life of everyone around you. How you have managed to remain so bright during this war I will never know but I am forever grateful you are in my life…a light to my darkness,” Raphael said affectionately.

Raphael knew he was fortunate he had Simon. The war had claimed many lives and for the immortal races many had been left alone, without their mate, facing eternity alone. For many such survivors the prospect of living on was too daunting and thus, they had thrown themselves into the war – seeking revenge and eventual death so they could finally be reunited with the one soul, the one person, they had been meant to spend eternity with. Raphael was one of the lucky ones; he had Simon, his mate for eternity, and he was never letting him go.

Simon smiled fondly at him and squeezed his arms around his neck briefly to show he was there for him, always.

“You are never dark, Raph,” Simon protested lovingly. Raphael raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, maybe you could dress in something other than black on black suits,” he added, eying his current perfectly fitting black suit and black shirt with a teasing look that also held admiration for the figure he struck.

“I thought you said you love me in them,” Raphael teased.

“I do,” Simon readily said before he realized Raphael was baiting him.

Raphael smiled fondly at him before his expression got more serious.

“Are you ready to go back and discuss the post ops report with Catarina and update Magnus?” he asked gently.

Simon nodded, his expression becoming more serious too.

“Yes. I can do it,” Simon said strongly.

“That’s my boy,” Raphael said fondly.

“Man, Raph. Man,” Simon corrected him as he removed his arms from his neck. Raphael took his arm and with a smile he placed it on his and they slowly walked back towards the operations room together.

“You will always be young to me, mi rayo de sol [my sunshine],” Raphael said fondly, lovingly. Simon blushed prettily, smiling happily.

Simon released his hold on his arm when they reached the operations room and when they entered they looked every inch the professional warriors they both were, each in their own right. Simon had never seen active combat; Raphael had seen plenty. Yet together they were unstoppable as Simon’s strategic mind and Raphael’s ruthlessness created a very effective weapon.

Chapter Text

Please read the author's notes for chapter warnings

 

Chapter 6: Killing love

 

“And we run, for this killing love. And we run, tell me how it's enough?” ( And We Run, Within Temptation)

 

Magnus had quickly become busy with various affairs of war and had left Alec back in his study in his private chambers. He left guards outside the entrance and told Alec he could walk around freely within his private rooms; the study connected to a master bedroom, two guest bedrooms, a modern kitchen, dining room and a living room. Alec had remained where Magnus had left him in the study for about ten minutes, waiting to see if this was a test but he didn’t seem to return so Alec explored the study first, his thoughts far away.

He was relieved for Izzy’s fate; the Seelie King seemed to treat her just as he had back in Idris and seeing this he had little fears for her future. He was unsure if he would ever see her again but knowing she was safe and well-treated meant everything to him. He worried for Andrew though; he felt guilty he had created a situation that had resulted in Andrew stepping in like he had. The files on Lorenzo he had read in Idris did not indicate he was a cruel Warlock but he had been in the camps; would he not wish revenge for that now he had a Shadowhunter kneeling before him? If only he had been able to do more for Andrew…protect him better… He hoped maybe if Lorenzo knew how truly innocent Andrew was – honestly the only of them who really was innocent – he hoped maybe then he would show mercy if not kindness. If he ever got the chance to see Lorenzo and Andrew again he would tell the Warlock general the truth about Andrew’s life in Idris, no matter what punishment speaking might earn him. Andrew deserved a chance at a better life than the Hell he had lived in Idris and telling Lorenzo the truth was the only hope of that ever happening. Providing of course that knowing the truth about Andrew would even matter to the Warlock....

Above all though, he felt increasingly worried for Jace and what he would soon have to endure. Jace had never been tortured before since he had become Alec’s parabatai and had only ever been injured in battle a few times; none of them serious as Jace’s pure Angel blood meant he was a great warrior. Jace had never lost control of the parabatai bond even those times and thus Alec had barely felt more than the weakest sting from the echoed pain. Valentine had rarely punished Jace physically since Alec had become Jace’s parabatai and thus the very idea of what he would feel from Jace’s side of the bond was foreign, scary and disconcerting for him.

His relationship with Jace had always been complicated but he couldn’t endure the thought of him in pain; he had been the only one who had offered him comfort for so many years. In his mind he chose to remember Jace as almost always coming to help him heal after he had been punished by Valentine or Jace himself. It wasn’t true of course; that wasn’t what had happened. Jace had come to him when he could, when it was possible, and it had been possible far less frequently than Alec chose to remember. But Alec remembered it this way and it made him loyal to Jace to a fault, remembering Jace as his only light in the darkness that had been his years living at Valentine’s mansion. True, Jace had also punished him but Alec refused to remember that, remember that pain, that agony. He remembered Jace bandaging him, helping him, healing him…he remembered how he had bandaged his broken fingers the first night he had been at Valentine’s mansion; he chose not to remember that Jace had been the one Valentine had had break his fingers in the first place.

Alec found an antique grandfather clock in the study; almost 1330 hundred hours. Magnus had told his friend he could have Jace for five hours. Allowing time to get everything set up for whatever torture the Warlock would want to inflict on his parabatai…. Alec estimated he would start to feel the echoes of Jace’s pain around 1400 hundred hours.

Alec started to stare at the clock, tense, awaiting the pain from his parabatai rune for around ten minutes. Unable to handle the waiting and the not knowing any longer he distracted himself by exploring the different rooms. Magnus had a taste that showed his long life; a mixture of different style periods in paintings, carpets, and furniture and the overall design and colors of the rooms. There was a bathroom connected to each guest bedroom and he assumed also for the master bedroom though he didn’t check. He didn’t enter the master bedroom, feeling shy and hesitant about it. He was sure he would be well acquainted with that room soon enough. In fact, he assumed that it would probably be one of his key functions here; the activities he would be expected to perform in the bedroom.

While he didn’t regret the deal he had made in any way he was saddened that his life would be reduced to just that. Though he knew it was a kinder and better fate than someone like him should have gotten. He was a defeated Idris general of high standing, had lived in Valentine’s mansion, his parents close friends with Valentine and himself the parabatai to Valentine’s son. By all rights this deal was better than he deserved considering his strategic decisions had lead Idris to victory many times which had resulted in hundreds of dead in battle and just as many captured and subsequently either killed or sent to the camps.

While he had never personally had anything to do with the camps, had never even seen them, he knew they existed, and he knew that he had chosen to believe the lies that they were civil and humane. He knew better than most how cold Valentine’s hatred ran but he had had to believe the camps were not that bad if he were to survive. While he personally had only ever killed in battle then he knew his hands were just as blood stained, he was just as guilty, as those who had done those horrid deeds for as Magnus had reminded him when he had bartered this deal with him; he had had one choice; the one choice he had never taken. He could have chosen death and he hadn’t. He had chosen to survive and to do so he had aided evil to thrive, while doing what good he could in small gestures and small rebellious acts that had made him able to look himself in the mirror but had never affected the greater scheme of things.

Alec forced his mind away from such dark musings and kept exploring Magnus’ private rooms. Unsure if he was allowed he still had two glasses of water from the tap in the kitchen as it hadn’t been forbidden. It helped make his mouth and throat feel a little better after the blowjob he had given Magnus earlier. He caught sight of Magnus’ mark over his Reflect Rune on the curve of his neck; it didn’t hurt much any longer which he was grateful for. The mark didn’t really bother him; thinking about it he had never really been free. Even before his parents had given him to Valentine to be Jace’s parabatai the rules in Idris had meant he had been unable to be the person he had wanted to be. He guessed this was just another mark, like his parabatai rune or his uniform, showing which ruler he had now. Maybe if he played this right his time here would be better than his years living in Valentine’s mansion.

To try to make his worried mind and increasingly galloping heart calm down he went back to the study and looked at all the books, reading the titles and mentally deciding which of them he would love permission to read. It took another hour before he felt the first wave of pain from Jace. It was subdued at first as always; Jace had built up quite a high pain threshold thanks to Valentine’s childhood abuse of him and had much better control over their bond than Alec had because he in general had much better control of his emotions. The echoes of pain were manageable but still had Alec grimacing and holding around his stomach, arms or face, whatever area Jace were currently being beaten. Alec felt it was a mercy that Magnus’ friend had apparently given into his anger because the echoed pain clearly indicated the torture so far was a beating. Alec was quite sure Jace had likely edged the Warlock on, getting him to lose his temper. Having lived with Valentine there was one thing both boys had learned quickly; punishments were much worse when delivered coldly and calculated instead of in a fit of rage.

Unable to just keep watching the clock while feeling Jace’s echoed pain Alec desperately looked around for something to distract himself. He was amazed that Jace had been able to withstand the echoes of his own pain through their bond as he had never had as good control as Jace clearly had of the bond. Alec was even more impressed when he felt Jace’s echoed pain now that Jace had been able to punish him himself. He put it down to Jace simply being a better soldier and warrior than he had ever been; Jace was strong in a way Alec had never been and likely never would be. He tried not to react and ignore the echoed pain as Jace had been able to do with him but simply couldn’t. The echoed pain got louder and louder as Jace lost more and more control over the bond as his pain intensified. Alec grimaced; he couldn't ignore it, he just couldn't. He just wasn’t that good of a soldier; he had never become that strong like Valentine had always wanted and like he had succeed with in his son. Instead, Alec tried to send reassuring waves through the bond to Jace but was unsure it reached him. He wondered if anyone had even bothered to explain to Jace what fate awaited him or what had happened to Alec.

Alec tried to breathe through the ever stronger and louder echoed pain from Jace, he tried to be strong, like Jace would be. Increasingly he felt like his skin was on fire, his mind lost in an ocean of pain and fear. He was certain this had to be what going mad felt like. He started walking back and forth in front of the books, restless, nervous, needing something, anything, to distract himself. As he felt each echoed hit Jace took over and over again, Alec quickly realized he would do literally anything to make that echoed pain less; the very idea that Jace was feeling this so much stronger had him losing his mind. He couldn’t bear it. He needed to do something, anything, now, right now.

Alec’s eyes fell on a wooden cocktail trolley with glasses and bottles on it. He suddenly thought of a way to both reach Jace and distract himself from Jace’s pain. As he picked up one of the fragile looking whiskey glasses he knew Magnus would have to punish him for this but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care about that right now; all he could think about was that he needed to do something before his mind exploded. He smashed the glass against the trolley, pieces of glass flying everywhere. Clutching his stomach from the echoed feeling of Jace being hit there again with one hand he bent down and picked up a piece of glass from the floor with the other. He held it in his right hand and pulled up the sleeve of his left arm. He considered what to say for Jace to understand. Suddenly it came to him. Clashing his teeth tightly together from the echoed pain and the pain he was about to inflict himself he put the glass against his left arm, by the elbow. He winced in pain as he cut bloody lines into his left arm until he in blood and skin had written the words ‘HOLD ON’. The pain from the cuts were deep enough to bring waves of agonized discomfort that helped distract him from Jace’s pain. He could feel now that the torture seemed to have moved to small burns; maybe cigarettes? He felt a wave of relief and comfort hit him from Jace, making him smile. Jace had felt the cuts he had made, the echoes of the lines of pain had enabled him to read his message and it had made him aware that Alec was there and he wasn’t alone in this.

He stood for a while by the cocktail trolley, sending Jace waves of affection and calm in the hopes it would make it easier for him. He noticed the cuts made blood drip onto the wooden floor, making him bite his lip in worry. He had already broken a glass; ruining the floor as well seemed like a very bad idea for his first evening here. He found something to clean up with in the kitchen and wrapped his arm in a kitchen towel to prevent bleeding anywhere else as the cuts were deep and would continue to bleed for quite a while. He gathered the broken glass and placed it in a neat pile on the cocktail trolley. He briefly considered throwing out the broken glass but quickly dismissed the idea; better he told Magnus about it as soon as he returned for him so he could get the punishment over with. Valentine had always loved to postpone or prolong punishments; Alec hated the waiting. However, so far he had a feeling Magnus was more fair. Strict, strong but then he had to be as the leader of the Allied forces, but not unnecessary cruel.

Soon after he felt his back start to throb painfully and surmised from the echoed pain that Jace’s tormenter had likely moved on to another classic; lashing. Luckily for Jace his tormenter was a Warlock who, so far at least, liked the classics which didn’t include any instruments. Whippings had also been a favorite of Valentine’s and both boys knew well the pain of it. Yet feeling Jace’s echoed pain was different. It was like ants crawling all over his body, under his skin. It was unbearable. He again admired Jace for being so strong that he had never seemed bothered by the echoed pain from his side of the bond; Jace truly was the strongest warrior of them.

Unable to endure the echoed pain any longer Alec tried to think of a way he could help ease Jace’s pain somehow and an idea came to him. He went to one of the guest bathrooms and filled a tub with as hot water as he could possibly endure. Magnus hadn’t said he could shower but hadn’t said he couldn’t either; hopefully he would not be punished too badly for this one. Yet even if he did that thought was not important enough at the moment to make him hesitate; the need to numb the echoed agony from Jace was so strong it was like a physical need he could not ignore. He quickly stripped and winched in pain as he submerged himself, making sure that his back was covered. The warmth of the water was turning him red, leaving a burning sensation but also numbing his skin, including the cuts he had made which was a relief. He opened the bond to Jace as much as he could and sent those feelings of numbness towards him. The water was so hot it made tears stain his cheek and he fought to keep those feelings to himself and only send the numbness through the bond. He felt the wave of relief from Jace when he felt the echoed numbness from Alec, numbing his own pain, and it made Alec smile despite the burning pain. He stayed in the tub till the water was stained red from the cuts in his arm and had turned cold. If not for Jace and his own scolded skin he would have enjoyed the tub. They had left Idris weeks ago and he had barely had time for more than a handful of showers since then. Now he quickly soaped himself and rinsed off, wincing in pain when he dried himself, the fluffy towel feeling like sandpaper on his skin. He quickly dressed and went back to the study. The cuts had stopped bleeding so he didn't rewrap his arm.

He had barely reached the study when he felt the sensations change again; he yelled aloud in pure agony when he felt the echoed pain of the fingernail on his right hand being removed. Fuck, that hurt like Hell! He knew it would happen but still gave a pained cry when another fingernail was removed from Jace’s hand. Damn it! What could he do? He wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling so helpless. Jace had always been strong, invincible.

Alec noticed the liquor on the cocktail trolley and an idea came to him. This time though the expected punishment did make him wince. He was going to be in so much trouble if he went through with this and that thought made him hesitate for a second. The thumbing echo of pure agonized fire from the two fingers Jace had had nails removed on made him quickly decide to ignore his fear of punishment. He could endure whatever punishment he would be given; he couldn’t endure this. It was not so much the echoed pain, that was manageable, but what it meant; his parabatai was suffering and thus his soul was suffering. His brain felt on fire, his skin felt on fire, his parabatai rune was in flames. He couldn’t take it a second longer, he felt like he could barely breathe, barely stand. He found the strongest liquor he could find on the trolley, a whiskey, and put the bottle to his lips. He hadn’t drunk much before now; the soldiers often did when they had the chance after a battle. He had had to stay alert when on missions to do what he could to protect Andrew and for his own sake. There was always some idiot who, knowing they would never be able to defeat Jace, would try and get to him through Alec in retaliation for not being promoted, for being reprimanded or for being punished for having done something wrong.

Alec drank a large portion of the bottle in one go and instantly started to feel a buzz though he was unsure whether or not it was just him imagining it. He had forgotten about the blood loss from the cuts he had made which, combined with not haven eaten for a while, made him feel lightheaded even without alcohol and which would reinforce any effects of drinking substantially. He almost dropped the bottle when agony like fire shot through a finger on the hand he was holding the bottle in; not nail removal this time. They had jabbed something sharp up under the nail. Tears ran down his cheeks in agony. Fuck it hurt! He drowned another significant amount of the whiskey and was now definitely starting to feel the effects. He opened the bond fully, sending those feelings of lightheadedness and aloofness towards Jace. Within a few minutes he felt an answering echo from Jace; he was clearly feeling the echoed efforts of Alec’s drinking. Alec considered if he needed to drink more but when he tried to take a step away from the cocktail trolley he was swaying and almost stumbled, barely managing not to drop the whiskey bottle. For some reason that made him giggle and he felt a reflected air of amusement from Jace as he shared in his drunkenness.

The last hour passed the quickest; Alec could feel them jabbing something up a few more of Jace’s fingers, two more nails were removed and he felt it when they pulled out one of his teeth. Finally they returned to beatings. However, it was all like in a haze, a dream; the whiskey and blood loss having given the desired effect.

Then suddenly, precisely five hours after it started, the echoed torment from Jace ended and the bond went silent. He guessed they had removed the spell or runes keeping Jace conscious even past his level of endurance and he was now, blissfully, passed out. Alec’s body visibly relaxed when the shared pain was removed and he sighed in relief at knowing Jace was safe for now.

Then the spinning started. He just about made it to the toilet before he threw up. He hugged the toilet bowl for a good long while before he managed to get up and rise his month under the sink. He made it on unsteady feet to the kitchen and found a glass so he could have some water. He really hoped Magnus wouldn’t return any time soon; his head was killing him, the room was still slightly spinning and he almost started to hyperventilate when it truly hit him that he would also have to admit to having drunk some of Magnus’ whiskey. Damn it; this first day wasn’t going quite as smoothly as he had hoped.

Unsure what he was allowed to do Alec had laid down on the floor of the study, on the soft carpet around Magnus’ chair and large mahogany office table, waiting for the room to stop spinning. After an hour Alec felt a little better though his head was still pounding. He decided the sensible thing to do was to try to do something useful so that maybe his punishment wouldn’t be as severe. He considered cleaning but everything was pretty neat and clean. Then he decided on cooking. He actually cooked quite well; it was not a skill Shadowhunters were encouraged to learn but Valentine had sometimes had him do it; thinking the task a lecture in humility as he saw the skill as a “soft” skill, unworthy of a true warrior. Alec though had secretly enjoyed it and had become quite good at cooking.

Another two hours went by and Alec almost passed out from relief when he felt Jace send him a small wave of assurance through the bond before he lost the connection again. Jace was ok; he was awake, he must have been healed with magic or iratze or both for he had been pain free…he was alight! Alec almost laughed from the relief of it.

With the realization Jace was alright Alec started to worry again about his own situation, his mind coming up with all the possible punishments Magnus might bestow on him. His imagination was quite vivid, as Valentine had had a particularly cruel sense of ingenuity when it came to punishments. He realized he was starting to breathe quick and fast, his heartbeat going through the roof. His body was remembering the pain from past punishments and was not liking the idea of that happening again anytime soon. He fought for his mind to go blank and instead focus on doing something useful. Having a panic attack, or worse, one of the flashbacks he had on occasion had, would just make matters worse. Valentine had found him in the mist of both at different times in the past and that had ensured Alec did everything in his power to stop the onslaught of both though at times it was out of his control. Valentine had decided to ‘cure’ his panic attack by holding his head under water for as long as Alec could endure and had decided to help him get ‘over’ his flashback, which he saw as a sigh of weakness, by giving him a beating worse than the one he had flashbacked to, to remind him to ‘man up’ for it could always get worse.

Alec was proud of himself when he managed to push all thoughts aside and just focus on chores, not feeling, not thinking, just doing. He managed to find the ingredients for a pasta dish and set the table in the living room. He had hesitated for just a moment, about to set the table for two before reality caught up with him. He had eaten with Valentine and Jace if he wasn’t being punished but that had been different; through Valentine had clearly despised him, knowing he was gay, he had still found him useful. Here, he was not much more than a living piece of furniture and he had known that when he had made the deal. With a sigh he left the one plate on the table.

Alec was doing the last few things in the kitchen for the dish he was preparing when he heard the door to the private chambers open and he tensed. Magnus had returned. He had been drinking plenty of water, trying to feel better but he still felt exhausted, his skin was red and hurting, his left arm still had bloody letters on it though the bleeding had stopped. Now he would have to admit to Magnus that on his first evening here he had both broken a glass and drunk his whiskey without permission. That would go over well…not. He grimaced. He took a deep breath and noticed his hands were shaking slightly. He looked angrily at them and held them tightly together. Damn it! You do the crime; you do the time. He had chosen this for Jace and he had chosen this deal. He could do this!

With a determined look on his face, his hands steady now from sheer force of will, Alec walked out of the kitchen just as he heard Magnus call his name.

 

Chapter Text

Please read the author's notes for chapter warnings! This chapter has detailed sex scenes among other things

 

Chapter 7: The Broken Angel

 

“Don't tear me down for all I need. Make my heart a better place.” ( All I Need, Within Temptation)

 

“Do you like your new home?” Lorenzo asked with a proud grin, waving his hand around his living room where he had portaled them to.

Lorenzo was very proud of his home. He had been born to extreme poverty over 300 years ago in Spain. His mother had been cast out, forced to try and survive on her own on the streets as her demon pregnancy had been seen as carrying a child out of wedlock. She had loved her son despite where he had come from and Lorenzo had survived on that love alone for all the coming years. She had died from pneumonia when Lorenzo had been only six years old. He had lived on the streets alone since then, suffering extreme abuse, hunger and neglect as was common for street children at the time. He would have died from any number of Mundane illnesses if not for his Warlock blood. Everything had changed when his powers had manifested. He had been determined to raise above his birth and had done anything at all to achieve that. He had fought, lied, stolen, cheated and killed but had finally, little by little, made it. He was today among some of the wealthiest men in the world. Not as wealthy as older Immortals like Magnus of course, but he now had more financial means than a small country. His struggle for financial freedom meant his taste was in general flashy and extravagant and his manners were somewhere between arrogance and pride in his own achievements, covering for a deep-seated insecurity and feeling of inferiority when around people born to a high station while he had had to fight for it, every step of the way. If not for the war, for Magnus rescuing him, maybe Magnus and he would have had a rocky relationship precisely due to their difference in birth. However, Magnus had saved him and many others and Lorenzo now owed him a Life Debt. While they were different in many ways, the two Warlocks were now allies and friends.

They had barely existed the portal before Andrew had dropped to his knees before Lorenzo, his head bowed and his hands in his lap. If Lorenzo didn’t know better he would have thought Andrew had been a prisoner in Idris and not an officer. This show of submission was clearly instinctive to Andrew by now, as normal to him as breathing. It was very unusual to put it mildly and even more so that he would do this for a Downworlder so easily; almost like there was nothing of the usual hatred or feeling of superiority in him that was a normal sign of the Nephilim race.

Lorenzo looked at the kneeling angel at his feet, now a bit unsure how to proceed. He had never claimed a prisoner before; he had never wanted to before he had seen Andrew. He wasn’t a man who would force himself on anyone even if such a thing had not been forbidden. In the camps a Nephilim guard had forced him to give him a blowjob and out of all the torture he had endured there that memory was what hunted him the most. He was not even sure why; the guard had beat him so badly afterwards he had barely been able to stand for several days and yet it was that memory, that feeling of humiliation, he couldn’t shake. He had never told anyone about it but had kept it bottled up inside, like it was his own dirty little secret. He had told Magnus about some of the torture he had been subjected to, some of the experiments. Cat knew all of it as she had been his healer but she was also sworn to secrecy unless the information was needed in the war effort.

He supposed that had been one of the reasons he had been drawn to this Nephilim, Andrew…he seemed vulnerable in a way that Lorenzo could identify with. Furthermore, he already seemed to understand how to behave, his submission seemed authentic even if that shouldn’t have been possible. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he looked very pretty in his fragility with his white skin, blond curly hair and blue eyes. Seeing a member of a hatred race, his runes a reminder of that hatred on his knees before him…it was almost like a drug to his demonic side. Yet the vulnerability in Andrew spoke to his human side, making him intrigued and feeling a weird sense of protectiveness he tried hard to ignore.

“It is beautiful, Sir,” Andrew responded truthfully to Lorenzo’s question regarding his home.

His head stayed bowed as he spoke, his eyes downcast, his voice soft. He tried hard not to consider his own fate, not to show how worried and nervous he was. He fought to keep his mind blank and just respond as expected. He knew from experience that that would make it easier to get through whatever was coming.

Andrew had managed to catch enough of the room to speak with conviction if not the fancy wooden floors and the Persian carpet he was kneeling on had indicated to the Warlock’s taste and financial means. The living room was huge and had several large golden chandeliers and large windows out to a manicured garden or rather a courtyard, as the opposite wing of the mansion was visible through the windows. A large black expensive looking piano, a sofa arrangement, a cocktail trolley and a large fireplace dominated the room. Several large paintings hung all around the living room, all of them were of Lorenzo with other people or pets – quite a few with horses - or him in front of important landmarks from time gone by; memories from an immortal life.

Lorenzo eyed the kneeling Nephilim more carefully; he looked frail and weak, the whiteness of his skin seemed too white, as if he didn’t get enough sunlight. He had bruises on his face and likely his whole body if the ones on his face were any indication, his uniform had no insignia and didn’t fit him well. He needed a shower and clean clothes. His appearance, so ragged and pathetic, reminded Lorenzo of how he himself had looked and felt when he had been in the camps, before Magnus had saved him. The memory, the comparison, made Lorenzo again feel weirdly protective and he fought to strangle those feelings and was angry with himself for ever having made such a comparison. Andrew was a Nephilim; their enemy. Comparing his state to the agony his people had endured in the camps…it was downright offensive.

“Let’s do something about how you look,” Lorenzo said with an annoyed air at where his thoughts had led him and made a hand gesture.

Andrew was magically cleaned up and washed, smelling like sandalwood and pine; much better. Lorenzo made his old clothes disappear and replaced them from inside and out with clean underwear, loose pants and a t-shirt as well as clean socks and shoes. Andrew jerked just a fraction in surprise at being magically cleaned and changed like this but otherwise managed to stay perfectly still on his knees.

Lorenzo gave him another thoughtful look; he was becoming more and more certain there was more to Andrew’s story. He didn’t speak without permission, he instinctively knelt, he made great effort not to move unless allowed to. No Nephilim officer would just do any of that, even if they wanted to follow Downworlder protocols for prisoners such as he, then they were unlikely to know it. In addition, even if they did know what was expected of them the level of submission that poured from every cell of Andrew’s body took years to built up. It couldn’t be faked and wouldn’t appear just overnight.

“Thank you, Sir,” Andrew said softly, feeling better than he had in weeks now he was clean and had new clothes on.

After being cleaned up Andrew’s bruises seemed even more dominant and Lorenzo found them…unsettling. He told himself that was the only reason he waved his hand in Andrew’s direction and healing magic went into his body, healing all his bruises and cuts.

“There. Much prettier,” Lorenzo said satisfied, ignoring that part of his brain that was screaming at him for having just used magic, leaving himself weaker, to help an enemy. A defeated enemy but still an enemy.

Andrew looked surprised at him, forgetting himself for a moment in shock.

“Thank you, Sir,” Andrew repeated, his voice showing his confusion.

He quickly lowered his gaze again. Why had Lorenzo done that? No one did that for him. No one except Alec. Maybe it was a game? Maybe Lorenzo wanted him to only wear bruises he himself put there? Maybe he just wanted him unmarked before he began to play? Andrew could not imagine any other reason why he would have done it. The thought of Lorenzo hurting him made him try and control a shudder; he was certain torture could be enhanced by magic to reach unspeakable heights and despite all the agony he had survived in his life that idea still managed to scare him.

“Follow me; I didn't plan to return home with you so I have a few matters to attend to in my study before we do anything else,” Lorenzo ordered, not wanting to leave Andrew unsupervised.

Lorenzo started to turn around only to see Andrew was still on his knees, head bowed but his hands in his lap were now squeezed tightly together, his knuckles white, his breathing hard. He was clearly nervous and uncertain. Lorenzo frowned, at first thinking he was disobeying but then it hit him. Oh, right.

“You can rise and follow me. You don’t have to wait for me to give permission next time. If I ask you to follow you can rise and do so,” Lorenzo explained, frowning a bit. Had someone really punished him if he had done that, punished him for following an order? That seemed beyond cruel.

“Yes, Sir,” Andrew said softly with a breath of relief at being told what to do, feeling safer now. He rose and followed Lorenzo out of the room, keeping his head down.

They walked through a drawing room, equally elegant and elaborate. It was also, like the living room, held in 1800s century European style with exquisite art pieces made from gold and precious jewels on display on shelves. Then they came to the library; wooden panels, books from floor to ceiling, a cocktail trolley and two different seating arrangements. The next room was clearly the study. There were two large windows, a heavy and very large mahogany desk, some book shelves filled with books and expensive and old antique looking objet d'art, a cocktail trolley – fully stocked with alcohol and glasses like the ones he had seen in the other rooms and two chairs in front of the desk. The desk and the chairs stood on a Persian carpet. The chair behind the desk was made from sandalwood, with small carvings and a leather seat.

Lorenzo went to sit behind the desk and Andrew followed. As soon as Lorenzo sat down the Nephilim knelt next to the desk, his hands in his lap, his head bowed. Lorenzo gave him a surprised look; he really was nothing like any other Nephilim he had ever meet. Lorenzo conjured himself a coffee and started to look through papers. He forgot time and Andrew as he worked on responding to various war reports as well as reports from his staff and employees on his investments and the estates he owned around the world. When he looked up next it was almost 1600 hundred hours; he had portaled back a little past lunchtime with Andrew. Thinking of him now he looked at the Nephilim; he was still kneeling by his desk, his head bowed and his hands in his lap. He looked like he hadn’t moved at all since they had entered the study.

“There is a bathroom through the door behind you that you can use whenever you wish; you don’t need to ask my permission for such things,” Lorenzo said, unsure if Andrew would be aware of this considering he hadn’t gotten up to follow him unless explicitly allowed to do so.

Andrew gave a small jerk at hearing his voice, tensing for a second before forcing himself to relax.

“Thank you, Sir. May I…rise to do so?” He asked hesitantly, his voice soft and his gaze still on the floor.

“Yes, of course,” Lorenzo said, a bit taken back by the request. Had he imagined what? That he was to crawl there? What a very unusual Shadowhunter he had found himself.

Andrew rose gracefully to his feet and went to the door behind him. He pulled the door to the bathroom close but didn’t shut it, leaving a line of light. Lorenzo could hear him use the toilet and the sink before he exited the room, turning off the lights and went back to the position he had just left.

“Why did you not shut the door?” Lorenzo asked with mild curiosity.

“I can do so in the future if you wish, Sir,” Andrew quickly reassured, his gaze kept on the floor but a hint of worry and nervousness was in his voice.

“I don’t mind. I am just curious as to why you did that,” Lorenzo replied honestly.

He saw how Andrew seemed to relax a little at his words and Lorenzo frowned; had he been punished so easily in the past? He had not specified anything regarding the door so to punish him for it would just be unfair.

“I…I assumed I was not allowed in a room alone,” Andrew said hesitantly, unsure of the rules in his new home.

He had never been allowed privacy since he had been caught kissing Alec as a young boy. It was a foreign concept to him by now.

Lorenzo nodded at that, thinking this was because he was an officer and soldiers were used to sharing quarters. He tried to focus on the latest tax documents his lawyers had sent him regarding some property he owned in Spain when Andrew’s stomach made a noise. He ignored it. It then happened again.

“Are you hungry?” Lorenzo asked, his annoyance fading when he realized he hadn’t asked that before and he was frankly unsure when any of the officers would last have eaten.

Andrew tensed, his hands squeezed tightly together in his lap.

“I am pleased to do whatever you wish of me, Sir,” he said quietly, nervous again, unsure what to do, what was expected of him.

When he had first been convicted, some Shadowhunters had sometimes asked him what he wanted or what he would like them not to do. Whatever he replied would end up being the wrong answer; what he said he would like he would not get, if he said what he didn’t want then he would get it. The lessons had been painful and humiliating but he had learned never to actually say what he wanted, knowing that no one cared, it was just another trick, another way to bring him pain. Only one person had ever cared about him, had ever been there for him; Alec. There was no one else in the whole world he trusted or that cared about him....or that he cared about.

“Yes, I am starting to get that feeling but are you hungry?” Lorenzo asked again, with a hint of annoyance at the vague answer.

“I….I don’t know what the answer is, Sir,” Andrew answered truthfully, his voice slightly shaking with fear, ducking his head as if he expected to be punished for admitting this.

“There is no right answer. When I ask questions I want honest answers,” Lorenzo explained, looking intensely at Andrew.

There was certainly something different about this Shadowhunter. He tried to hang on to his hatred of Shadowhunters, remembering the torture, torment and humiliation he had suffered at the camps. However, seeing that Andrew was physically shaking in fear by now yet remaining perfectly still, his head bowed, Lorenzo couldn’t maintain his rage.

“There!” With an air of annoyance Lorenzo conjured up a large goblet of red wine and a plate with cold cuts of beef, cheese and bread, making it appear right in front of Andrew.

His choice in food was a testament to his long life; he had grown up in an age where water was not safe to drink and thus as Andrew was mortal he didn’t consider giving him any other drink than wine (he could have chosen other alcoholic drinks but as a Spaniard and a man who considered himself to be a lover of finer things he considered most other drinks than wine with food to be in poor taste).

Considering the matter resolved Lorenzo went back to his papers. Almost ten minutes passed and then he heard Andrew’s stomach rumble again and he looked at him in annoyance when he saw he had not touched the wine or the food but still sat precisely as he had before.

“Is the food or wine not to your taste?” Lorenzo asked with a hint of exasperation and irritation.

“Sir, you have not given me permission to eat or drink it,” Andrew replied meekly, a small sliver of fear in his voice as he wondered what he might have done wrong to make Lorenzo upset.

Lorenzo was taken back; he had clearly given it to him; who had given him food but denied him to eat it when he was obviously hungry?

“You can eat and drink this. You can eat and drink anything I give you when I give it to you,” Lorenzo said slowly, watching Andrew carefully.

“Thank you, Sir,” Andrew said with a hint of relief but also hesitation, clearly unsure if this order would actually be in effect for the future too.

Knowing from experience that he should never wait when an order was given Andrew quickly started to eat the food with his hands and drink the wine.

Lorenzo looked at Andrew eating and drinking so hastily he was surprised he could swallow that quickly. He had a curious expression on his face as he emptied the wine goblet and Lorenzo wondered if he had even ever tasted wine before. Lorenzo caught himself staring at Andrew with something between sympathy and interest and forced his attention back on his papers. Around 30 minutes later, when he conjured up a cup of coffee for himself he made one for Andrew as well. He glanced at him from time to time and could see Andrew was hesitant and afraid, but after a few minutes he took the coffee cup to his lips and emptied it in one go. Lorenzo winced; that would have been warm, borderline uncomfortable, but he guessed Andrew was afraid he would take it away from him again after giving it to him. Once more he wondered what had happened to him since he would think such a thing.

After another 30 minutes Lorenzo looked at Andrew, still sitting perfectly still, his hands in his lap. He seemed calmer now after having had the wine so Lorenzo magically refilled his goblet. Andrew eyed it cautiously for a moment before quickly emptying it.

“Would you like to read a book?” Lorenzo asked, trying to sound annoyed but not quite succeeding.

“I…I do not know what I am expected to answer, Sir,” Andrew replied softly, looking worried and tense again.

“I expect you to answer truthfully,” Lorenzo replied matter of fact.

“Yes, Sir, if it pleases you, Sir,” he responded carefully, clearly still nervous.

Giving how hesitant he was with his answers Lorenzo decided not to ask him what book he wanted to read. Instead he made an antique version of The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, a favorite book of his, appear in Andrew’s lap, giving him an English version as he was unsure the Shadowhunter would know how to read French. He made a mental note to himself to ensure Andrew should learn the language as the ability to speak what he considered classical languages like French, Spanish and Italian were important to him. He had learned the hard way that in order to reach the top he had to the best, better than those born to privilege. Ignorance was weakness he couldn’t afford in himself or those around him as that was a sure way for someone to get the upper hand.

For a moment Andrew simply looked at the book in his lap in awe and surprise. Then hesitantly and ever so carefully, as if the book was made of glass, he started to turn to the first page. When Andrew had gone through the first few pages, clearly into the story, Lorenzo conjured up a plate of meat, cheese and bread for himself as well as a goblet of wine. He continued working on his business affairs – mainly relating to his properties or investments. He had just recently invested in some farms in Argentina and a horse ranch in California where he now had to take some decisions on how to move forward. Magically refilling his wine from time to time he finished that and started to read over some reports from the front line, including a report on the patrol Simon had sent against Alicante, which had failed. He considered some options for new potential attack formations and made some drawings on a piece of paper in preparation for tomorrow’s War Cabinet meeting.

Lorenzo noticed it was starting to get late and decided to stop working for today and move on to more pleasant matters. He gave a small smile when he saw that Andrew was clearly into the story, seeming to have forgotten where he was for a moment. His head was bowed over the book in his lap, his hands holding the book in place with just the right amount of care and respect for the delicate product and the written word that Lorenzo liked to see.

“Come, young Nephilim. Let us retire for the evening,” Lorenzo said with a smile as he rose from the chair.

The movement and his words had Andrew tensing and he sat up straighter. Lorenzo walked over to him and stroked his hair gently, sensing how tense he was. Just nerves he assumed.

“Come with me,” Lorenzo ordered as he started to walk out the room, turning to wait for Andrew to rise and walk over to him.

Andrew quickly got to his feet and Lorenzo saw with a satisfied smile that Andrew made sure that the book never touched the floor, cradling it carefully in his hands. He laid the book on Lorenzo’s desk after a moment’s hesitation; clearly unsure what was the right thing to do with it. He walked over to stand next to Lorenzo and now the Warlock could feel the tension coming off him in waves, making him frown a bit at how nervous and worried Andrew clearly was. He still had his head bowed and his eyes lowered but his hands were fists at his side and he was as tense as a bowstring.

Andrew followed Lorenzo through different living rooms and then into a large hall and up a large staircase. Finally, they walked down hallways until they stopped before a large double door. Lorenzo opened one of the doors and they walked into a huge bedroom with a balcony attached. There were two rooms attached to the bedroom; one to a large bathroom and one to a huge walk in closet. There was a large bed made from dark oak, a French antique chaise longue and a large mirror as well as small paintings on the walls.

Andrew tried not to fixate on the bed, feeling his heartbeat increase and his pulse quicken. He scowled himself, trying to calm down. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before in every conceivable way. There was nothing Lorenzo could do to him that hadn’t already been done. That thought gave him some comfort.

Lorenzo stopped in the middle of the bedroom before turning around, his eyes shining desire and need. What he needed, what they both needed, to forget about this war for a moment was to just let go and feel good.

“Come closer,” he ordered when Andrew seem to have frozen just inside the bedroom, his eyes fixated on the bed. Lorenzo smiled seductively, mistaking his fixation as desire, thinking he was eager to forget everything he had lost in the war and just feel, just live in the moment.

Andrew looked at him, fighting his nervousness and slowly came to stand before him, unsure what he should do; should he kneel or….

Sensing his hesitation Lorenzo added, “Kneel by my feet.”

“Sir,” Andrew mumbled softly, relieved to have an order he could follow so he could be certain he wasn’t breaking any rules.

He gracefully fell to his knees, the gesture as practiced as fighting was to other Shadowhunters. He bowed his head, aware he was now precisely in line of sight with Lorenzo’s crotch. Well, he already knew how he liked his blowjobs; he could do that easily.

“Take off your clothes,” Lorenzo said, his voice soft and hoarse with desire, licking his lips in anticipation.

Andrew did so, quickly, carefully, mechanically, and if Lorenzo didn’t know better he would say he had heard that order many times before. Andrew folded his pants after he stepped out of them, then his shirt and then carefully put his socks and underwear on the pile too, putting his shoes next to the pile of clothes. Lorenzo looked a little baffled at the mechanical movements; it almost looked like someone had punished him for not being neat about this, for not doing this in this way.

When Andrew was naked before him Lorenzo took a deep breath in awe. He was malnourished, his ribs sticking out – Lorenzo made a mental note to feed him plenty. He had black runes covering his torso and a variety of scars which he assumed were made from battles he had partaken in. He tried not to linger too much on that thought as the only battles a Shadowhunter would take part in involved killing his own kind. However, above all Andrew looked innocent, fragile…like a priceless art object and Lorenzo was a great fan and big collector of rare and prized art.

“You look…exquisite,” Lorenzo said in admiration, his eyes and voice soft.

Andrew kept his eyes downcast, surprised at his praise and how much it warmed him. No one ever praised him – hadn’t for years. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to react; it made him nervous.

Fascinated despite himself by the many scars on Andrew’s body Lorenzo ran a hand over his right arm, caressing it softly, feeling the scars there.

“What is this?” Lorenzo couldn’t help but ask. As soon as he did, he cursed under his breath; he really didn’t need a blow by blow description of how this seemly innocent creature had brutally hurt and killed Downworlders – like all beings of his race did.

“From a dagger I think,” Andrew said slowly, thinking, trying to recall the episode. There had been so many; it was hard to remember which scar went with which dark memory. They all tended to mix together after a while.

At Lorenzo’s surprised look Andrew added, unsure which of the many scars in the general vicinity of his hand on his arm he wanted to know about, “The burns are mostly blades that have been heated.”

He turned to see where Lorenzo’s hand were touching and found it was now on his shoulder, tracing a scar that ran from his shoulder to his elbow. “That one was a broken bottle.”

Lorenzo frowned; a dagger could be a battle wound but heated blades and broken bottles? Unlikely. Maybe some excessive training? After all, all Downworlders knew that Shadowhunters were basically handed a blade at birth and pointed in the general direction of Downworlders.

“Don’t Nephilim have runes to prevent scars?” Lorenzo asked puzzled.

Maybe healing runes were just a rumor. He had never cared to learn much about his enemy except what could kill them. Before he had been captured and taken to the camps he had stayed out of the war; not caring about it. He had instead profited off it like many Warlocks had done in the early days. When news of the camps had reached the Downworld he, like most Downworlders, hadn’t believed it. No one could be that cruel, that hateful. His capture and torment at the camp had changed everything for him. He had been rescued by Magnus and as a result he now owed him a Life Debt as Warlock custom dictated. He had joined the war after that – he had learned to care for his fellow Downworlders as he knew first hand the agony of the camps and he had learned to hate the Nephilim race with an intensity and passion few could match. Yet despite that, here he was talking to one of them now… there was just something about Andrew’s submissive manners that managed to smooth his need and wish for revenge in unexpected ways.

Andrew nodded, “Yes but my stele was taken when I was made a ward.”

His voice was calm and even, just explaining it matter of fact. He had no feelings attached to explaining his past but he did feel a hint of puzzlement; this was the most unusual discussion he had ever had naked. In fact, it was the most calm and respectful and normal conversation he had ever had naked. That probably said a lot and none of it good.

“A ward?” Lorenzo questioned, raising his eyebrows at him. He had never heard this term before. Was it some kind of title? Maybe a part of their political system?

“A none-citizen. Someone without rights, who doesn’t belong anywhere,” Andrew explained softly, looking down for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

In Idris the soldiers and officers had often had him retell his story, have him call himself a ward and explain what it meant. It was part of their humiliation of him. He had been forced to do it so many times he was unable to feel much other than numbness at explaining it again.

Lorenzo was even more puzzled. He wasn’t an officer then? Why had he been with the officers if that was the case?

“Why did they do that?”

Andrew had said the answer so many times, in Idris the words being considered something of great shame and humiliation, yet after saying it so many times he felt nothing as he said it, “I’m gay.”

Andrew had expected contempt, laughter…anything than how Lorenzo did react.

“So? I had obviously assumed that given my plans for you,” the Warlock replied honestly with a hint of puzzlement. He knew Idris was against homosexuality but had never considered the implications of that.

“It’s forbidden in Idris and the punishment for being found out is among the most severe,” Andrew explained.

“Hmmm. Idiots, all of them,” Lorenzo mumbled under his breath. “So you went along with the officers during the siege at the New York Institute though you don’t have a stele?”

Andrew nodded. “Yes. Alec thought it was safer I went with them than leave me behind in Alicante.”

Lorenzo frowned. What danger had he been in at Alicante?

“How did you manage to kill anyone?” he asked confused. Didn’t Shadowhunters need their stele to use their runes?

Andrew shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“You have never killed anyone?!” Lorenzo asked disbelieving. Really? An innocent Shadowhunter? Was there such a thing?

“No, never,” Andrew confirmed.

Hearing this changed everything for Lorenzo. If this was true then Andrew was innocent; he didn’t have blood on his hands like other Shadowhunters. Lorenzo might hate Shadowhunters but he hated them for their cruelty and racism; Andrew had none of that. It enabled Lorenzo to feel and act on the protectiveness and gentleness Andrew had awoken in him without feeling like he was betraying his own people or his own values. In fact, his own sense of honor and duty bid him to consider Andrew’s innocence in how he treated him moving forward.

“Why did they even bring you then?” Lorenzo asked confused. Why bring someone who can’t fight?

“Alec made sure I could come. It was a way for me to….well, to get away from Alicante,” Andrew admitted softly.

Talking about Alec made Andrew think about him. He hoped he might see him again but above all, he hoped he was safe and was doing as well as was possible under the circumstances. He had seen the Warlock brand on his neck and he knew it meant he would belong to the Prince now. That was not the life he would have wanted for his beloved friend but if anyone could adapt to such a life it would be him. Andrew knew Alec would never break the Warlock’s rules for himself but as he had proved the last time he had seen him then he found it difficult to control himself when it came to helping others. If someone else was in danger and he could help, then Alec would do so; no matter what the price for himself might be. Andrew feverishly hoped Alec would be able to control that urge going forward as there was no way the leader of the Allied Downworld forces could allow the captured Lightwood general to defy him, no matter the reasons behind that defiance.

“Get away?” Lorenzo probed, pulling Andrew’s focus back to his own situation.

“Yes.” Andrew paused, his eyes and voice getting darker, a hint of despair in both. “I thought if I was lucky a Downworlder would kill me but….no such luck.”

“My luck instead then,” Lorenzo said with more possessiveness than he had thought he felt. “But why even bring you along if you were not given any weapons or anything?”

Andrew shrugged, not seeing it as important that he had been defenseless while literally on the front lines.

“They would find me useful; I could do things they didn’t want to do, keep the weapons in good condition, I could be sent up ahead….Be a way to take the steam off.” He hesitated but then added honestly, “Expendable.”

Lorenzo frowned, his anger at these nameless Shadowhunters growing steadily by each second.

“How generous of them,” Lorenzo remarked sarcastically.

“Jace always made sure Alec got his stele back during battles and Alec took care of me,” Andrew pointed out, wanting to ensure Lorenzo understood how special Alec was in the hope it might make Lorenzo talk to the Prince about Alec favorably, how unlikely that idea might be. He knew well that mercy no longer existed in this world and the concept of anyone helping him, anyone who wasn’t Alec, was never going to happen. Yet while he had no hope left for himself, he still carried hope for Alec.

“Alexander Lightwood?” Lorenzo asked, surprised. The man had been a fierce enemy, a clever general. Many War Cabinet meetings had revolved around trying to outsmart him.

Andrew nodded, “Yes.”

“He didn’t have a stele either?” Lorenzo asked surprised.

Alexander had been a key figure in the fight against the Downworld and was known for his strategical abilities as a general and his amazing skills with a bow on the battlefield. He would never have guessed he was anything else than the loyal soldier of Idris he had appeared to be.

“I don’t think Valentine allowed it,” Andrew explained. He paused before he added, “He lived with Valentine and Jace after he became Jace’s parabatai.” He briefly closed his eyes in sympathy at the pain he knew Alec had endured while living there.

“Valentine was brutal towards him…” Andrew said softly, unsure why he said it, pausing before he added, “Jace too a lot of the time.”

“The parabatai of Valentine’s son…Magnus sure knows how to pick them,” Lorenzo complained darkly, recalling the Shadowhunter Magnus had left his Mark on earlier.

Andrew was silent for a moment, unsure what to say to that. After a few seconds he asked in a small voice, “Do you…want me to put the shirt back on?”

“Why?” Lorenzo questioned, confused. He noticed Andrew didn't refer to the shirt as his even though Lorenzo had conjured it for him. Surely he had owned items before, in Alicante. Hadn’t he?

“To cover the scars while we…you…” He gestured at the bed, uncertain.

“Oh, no, pet. I am enjoying the view!” Lorenzo said with a sexy smile, trying to convey how gorgeous he felt he was.

“Ok,” Andrew said quietly, looking down, unsure what to do, where to stand.

“Come lie on the bed, pet,” Lorenzo ordered softly, seeing his nervousness, but since he didn’t know about his past or what had happened to him, Lorenzo took it simply as an expected reaction to his new life, his new situation. After all, he would have to get used to belonging to Lorenzo now and for someone who didn’t know Downworlder customs and rules that might take some getting used to.

Andrew tried to ignore his trembling hands as he walked to the bed. He had relaxed when they had been speaking; Lorenzo had seemed almost kind. He had almost forgotten which room they were in and what was expected to happen. He had never experienced sex without it being painful and uncomfortable and was expecting nothing less now.

Unsure how Lorenzo wanted him he decided to play it safe and lied down on his stomach, lying flat, his hands by his head, his legs slightly spread apart. He felt relieved that he was only trembling ever so slightly. He inwardly prayed it wouldn’t be too bad; he was still recovering from the beating and rape he had experienced to “cheer up the troops” as Valentine had said, before they had left Idris three weeks earlier. Back then they had used runes to help him heal. He didn’t have his stele but he was puzzled as to why Lorenzo had left him keep his runes; why hadn’t he de-runed him?

“You look so beautiful; an angel at my feet, in my bed, covered in runes, kneeing before me,” Lorenzo said softly, desire making his voice hoarse.

That answered Andrew’s question. He guessed that had been why Alec had been allowed to keep his runes as well.

Seeing his shaking Lorenzo frowned and sat on the bed by his side.

“Shh…It’s ok, angel,” Lorenzo said softly as he stroked his arm in gentle circles.

Andrew tried not to tense, it was worse if he was tense but that was still the hard part.

“Turn around so I can see you, little one,” Lorenzo asked kindly.

Andrew squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning over, keeping his face expressionless. He disliked it when they wanted to see his face; it made it more difficult not to fuck up. If he didn’t give the expression they wanted at whatever they were doing to him, he would be punished but they never told him beforehand what they wanted from him; whether they wanted him to like it or dislike it.

Lorenzo stroked his cheek tenderly, trying to get him to open his eyes.

“You look so beautiful,” Lorenzo said in awe.

Andrew opened his eyes at that and looked at him, caught between surprise and shock. Why was he complimenting him? That wasn’t necessary. The kind words made him blush and feel warm all the way to his toes.

“Shh…relax. Just let go,” Lorenzo said softly before kissing his lips tenderly.

At first Andrew tensed under him but as the lips kept touching his tenderly, Lorenzo’s tongue tracing his lips, Andrew relaxed and soon parted his lips for him. Lorenzo’s tongue explored his mouth while the kiss continued and Andrew’s fear turned to something else. He tried to do as Lorenzo had said and closed his eyes, moaning softly as he allowed himself to simply feel this, stay in this moment.

Andrew’s eyes shot open when he felt Lorenzo’s hand around his cock. Fear washed over him in waves but Lorenzo didn’t hurt him. He touched him gently, stroking him up and down while still kissing him. He used the other hand to caress his face as he kept stroking him. Slowly Andrew hardened under the touch and was moaning into his mouth, letting himself relax and enjoy it again as Lorenzo had told hiim to. This was new; he had had sex many times but never like this.

Lorenzo finally released his lips and drew back, panting slightly, his eyes dark as he continued to stroke Andrew’s cock. Looking into his eyes he moved down so he was now sitting between Andrew’s legs. Andrew looked down at him in surprise and was even more surprised when Lorenzo bent down and ever so softly started to lick his cock. Andrew almost bucked off the bed in surprise. The sensation was amazing. He had given plenty of blowjobs but had never received them. Lorenzo smiled at his reaction. He locked eyes with him as he took his cock into his mouth, holding him steady with both his hands around the base of his cock, going slowly further and further down. Unsure what to do Andrew bit his lower lip to stop himself from moaning loudly at the pleasure. It was amazing; he had never felt anything like that. Lorenzo took him so deep Andrew felt the back of his throat before he went back up. He pulled himself off his cock and noticed Andrew biting his lip.

“Don’t do that; your pleasure or your pain is only mine to give,” he warned, not unkindly as he ran a hand over Andrew’s bruised lip, effectively making him stop hurting himself. “Besides, I want to hear you.”

With that Lorenzo went back to taking Andrew into his mouth, smirking happily when he pulled off when he saw the needy and desperate look in Andrew’s eyes.

“Please…” Andrew mumbled, fisting the sheets, as he didn’t know where to put his hands.

“Please, what?” Lorenzo teased as he pulled off again.

“Please….please,” Andrew begged helplessly, not sure what he wanted, what he needed, having never voiced it before.

“Angel, you are going to have to use words,” Lorenzo said as he pulled off his cock again, wanting to be sure whatever they did together was something Andrew wanted to do. “What do you need, angel?”

What did he need? It took a few seconds for Andrew to know the answer, his brain starting to get fuzzy and cloudy with desire.

“Please…I…I don’t know what to do. And my hands…I don’t know what to do with them. I…I…Please…tie me up,” Andrew begged, blushing, embarrassed at his own words.

He had known pain and humiliation for so long he couldn’t imagine pleasure, couldn’t imagine sex, without something containing him, something he could hold against. The Shadowhunters had often enjoyed to force an orgasm out of him and over years he had learned to associate dominance, even pain, with pleasure. It was an almost conditional response. Lorenzo was being too gentle, too slow, for his body to be able to react to him and for the first time ever Andrew wanted to climax, he wanted to surrender, he wanted that release, he wanted to obey and give Lorenzo what he had asked for; for him to relax and let go.

“Very good, angel. You are being so good for me,” Lorenzo praised him, happy that he had said what he needed.

With a wave of one of his hands he used magic to hold Andrew’s wrists, pulling his hands above his head, holding them tight against each other, while he continued to move up and down on his cock. For a moment Andrew seemed to tense, as if he was unsure what would happen now. But as Lorenzo continued pleasuring him the magical robes seemed to do the trick. As Lorenzo moved his mouth, lips and added his hands, moving faster and faster up and down Andrew was squirming beneath him, breathing hard, his eyes half-closed. Lorenzo tasted him on his tongue and knew he was close.

“I’m…I’m close,” Andrew warned, confirming Lorenzo's thoughts, his brain foggy, his voice filled with need, unsure what he was supposed to do now. Could he come? Should he? How? What was the rules to this game? Was he being good now? Was he obeying?

“Please….can I come?” he begged, needing to know what to do, needing to be reassured it was ok.

The words, so sweet, so submissive, almost made Lorenzo come too.

“Come,” Lorenzo said hoarsely, pulling off briefly before taking him all the way down again.

After a few more thrusts up and down on his cock, Andrew came with a yell, his eyes closed. Lorenzo pulled off just in time and used his hand to pump him dry before releasing his hold on him. Spent and dazed Andrew lay boneless back against the bed. For a moment he felt completely at peace, a content smile on his lips, endorphins flooding his system.

“You look so pretty like this, falling apart under my hands,” Lorenzo mumbled softly as he looked at him with a kind smile. With a snap of his fingers he had cleaned them both up and had removed the magic tying him up.

His words brought Andrew back to the present and he realized where he was.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sir! You haven’t…” Andrew began, blushing with embarrassment. This had never happened before. Sex had always been about the other person; never him.

Lorenzo shrugged and waved a hand at him.

“I like seeing you like this; completely at my mercy,” Lorenzo said with a sexy grin that made Andrew blush and yet feel…sexy for the first time ever. He felt safe somehow.

Lorenzo smiled, his eyes warm and filled with desire.

“I am certain you can help with that but only if you feel up for it. I am completely content with knowing I brought that dazed look to your face,” Lorenzo said with a wink.

Andrew smiled at that and somehow, amazingly, he almost did believe him. And because of that, because he had been kind to him, he wanted to do something about it, he wanted to do the right thing that would make him keep being kind to him.

Andrew sat up on the bed and looked at him shyly, still feeing unsure and hesitant.

“Sir, if you wish I would like to…do something about that.” He waved in the general direction of Lorenzo’s crotch.

“I would always like that,” Lorenzo said with a voice filled with lust as he sat down on the bed beside Andrew.

Andrew leaned over him as soon as he sat down next to him. Lorenzo kept his arms at his side as Andrew kissed him experimentally, not wanting to scare him now that things seemed to be moving in the right direction. When Lorenzo didn’t try to hold him Andrew put his arms around his neck instead and deepened the kiss. Lorenzo leaned back on the bed, making Andrew follow him down as he still had his arms around his neck.

Andrew drew back and looked down at him. Lorenzo looked so comfortable, so secure in his sexuality. Lorenzo smirked up at him, crossing his hands under his head and simply lay there.

“May I…May I taste you too?” Andrew asked softly, shyly, uncertain if he should ask, if it was ok, unsure what he was expected to do. He wanted Lorenzto to feel good so he would keep being kind to him and he knew he had liked the blowjob he had given him earlier so that seemed a safe place to start.

“Always, angel,” Lorenzo assured with a voice hoarse with desire. “Do you want me naked?”

Andrew was surprised he was given a choice. Shyly he nodded as he felt it would make it easier for him to please the Warlock if that was the case, “Yes please, Sir.”

With a snap of his fingers Lorenzo was naked and enjoyed the way Andrew’s eyes roamed over his body.

“See anything you like, pet?”

Andrew looked from his toned torso to his quickly hardening cock, his strong biceps. He had scars all over his body and the Circle tattoo on his neck, evidence of his torment at the camps, but Lorenzo wore his scars like badges of honor, making no move and no indication to feel any embarrassment towards them. Lorenzo simply laid there and enjoyed the attention, his hands back behind his head.

“Yes, very much…Sir,” he added the latter as an afterthought, admiring how toned and sunburned he was; he was indeed beautiful, even more so because of his confidence.

Andrew moved down between Lorenzo’s legs and Lorenzo looked down at him with desire. Slowly Andrew took him into his mouth, all the way down. Lorenzo gasped in pleasure and tried not to thrust up into his mouth. Andrew went up and down on him a few times, looking at him as he did so. Not getting the out of control reaction he wanted he took both of Lorenzo’s hands and placed them on his cheeks, indicating he wanted him to use him, to move his head in the pace he wanted.

“Fuck!” Lorenzo mumbled as he let go, thrusting into Andrew’s mouth, his hands holding his face tightly.

Lorenzo kept looking at Andrew, seeing if he was alright. He was humming against his cock, his eyes dazed but he didn’t seem gone like he had in the courtyard. He just seemed to relax into it. After a few more thrusts Andrew moved his head slightly and the small movement was enough for Lorenzo to release his hold on him and look at him questioning.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Andrew asked softly, looking down hesitantly. Lorenzo had been kind to him; he should repay that, make it worth his while to treat him well. He had seen the desire in his eyes, he was quite certain he wanted to do just that.

“Yes, very much so!” Lorenzo said eagerly, nodding his head to empathize his point. Not wanting his own desire to scare Andrew again he added, “If you want to.”

Andrew was thoughtful for a moment, unsure if he actually meant it as a question. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Did he? Did he actually want this? He thought so. He had never done this before. Not like this. Not with him saying he wanted to. He thought he did. He wanted to please Lorenzo and make him happy so he would he kind to him so he wanted to. He looked at Lorenzo and nodded.

“How do you want it then?” Lorenzo asked, fighting to keep still as desire swept over him at the thought of being buried inside this amazing creature he could call his.

“Do you want to ride me?” Lorenzo offered, thinking maybe it would give him more power if he could control the pace.

Andrew looked surprised at him; he had actually never done that. They had taken him on his hands and knees, mostly face down and sometimes on his back. Andrew nodded shyly.

“I….I don’t know how to do it,” Andrew admitted softly but still, determined, moved up so he was saddling Lorenzo.

Lorenzo managed just in time to move Andrew up with a strong grip on his hips so when he sat down he sat on his stomach instead. Andrew gave him a puzzled look.

“Pet, what are you doing?! You are not prepared at all,” Lorenzo said with something between annoyance, worry and shock.

“Oh. Sorry,” Andrew said softly, blushing, feeling stupid and uncertain. He had done something wrong. Would Lorenzo punish him now? “How….is that the fingers thing?”

“Ah…Yes,” Lorenzo said, puzzled. “Did you not always do this before?”

Andrew shook his head. “Not always.”

Fuck, that would have to hurt. Lorenzo’s erection died somewhat at the thought.

“Pet…we don’t have to do this,” he repeated kindly, suddenly very unsure what kind of sexual experiences Andrew had had before.

Andrew shook his head. “But I want to,” he insisted; he wanted to repay Lorenzo, to show him that he was grateful that he had treated him kindly. “Just….tell me what to do.”

Lorenzo did a hand movement and a bottle of lube appeared on the bed next to Andrew. “Take a generous amount into your hands and use one finger at a time. When you are ok with four then you can sit on me, ok?”

Andrew nodded but handed Lorenzo the bottle. “Will…will you do it, please?” he said hesitantly, blushing. He hadn’t done it before and didn’t want to disappoint Lorenzo by doing it wrong.

“Of course. I just…” Lorenzo shook his head. He had thought Andrew might feel better, more in control, doing it himself. Never mind what he thought. Thinking of the best way, or rather the least scary way of doing it he decided to remain laying on his back as he put lube into his hands.

“Move up where I can reach you, pet,” Lorenzo encouraged and Andrew did so. He had a slight hint of worry and nervousness on his face as he turned around and got on his knees, exposing himself to Lorenzo.

“By Edom; you are so beautiful,” Lorenzo mumbled as he saw him like that, all open and exposed for him.

Lorenzo noticed Andrew tensing and touched his ass softly, drawing smoothing circles. After a few seconds Andrew relaxed under his hands.

“I will use one finger now. I will go slow. Say if you want me to stop or go slower, ok? This is very important; say stop or say I need to go slower. I do not want to hurt you and I don’t want you to allow me to, do you understand?” Lorenzo said seriously, adding a hint of warning to his tone to make it clear he meant it.

Andrew nodded, “Yes, Sir,” he agreed, feeling a lump in his throat. Lorenzo didn’t want him hurt…Could that really be true? He didn’t dare believe it.

Andrew couldn’t help but tense as he waited to feel the invasion but when Lorenzo pressed a finger inside him it didn’t hurt at all. The lube made the slow slide easy and pain free.

“Are you alright?” Lorenzo checked as he moved the digit slowly in and out.

“Oh…Oh, yes,” Andrew breathed, surprised at that fact. Wow…that felt….it actually felt good.

“You can add another, please,” Andrew added softly, unsure if he was supposed to say so but assumed it from what Lorenzo had said earlier. He tensed slightly, waiting to see if he had fucked up now.

“Thank you for telling me,” Lorenzo praised and Andrew smiled happily at the praise, relaxing again.

Lorenzo added a second finger the same way until they had worked up to four digits in a much slower pace than Andrew had ever had sex before in his life.

“How are you doing, pet?” Lorenzo asked as he moved his fingers slowly in and out of him.

“Ah….So good, Sir,” he mumbled, having gone hard again, his brain starting to become foggy once more with desire and lust.

“Are you ready for me now?” Lorenzo asked with barely withheld lust in his voice.

Andrew nodded. “Yes, please,” he said with a voice hoarse with desire and only a small hint of fear.

A part of him was still afraid this was a cruel trick or game but he had nowhere else to go; he could just as well play this out and hope that maybe, for once, it would actually turn out ok for him. Just for once. He realized a part of him did want this. Did want Lorenzo to fuck him. He had never wanted it before even when he had claimed he did. Lorenzo had been good to him and he wanted to repay that, he wanted him to continue treating him like this. He was still afraid of screwing up but he recognized lust and he knew Lorenzo wanted him. Finally, he couldn't deny that for the first time doing this he actually felt good about it, both in his body and in his mind. It didn't feel like a forced reaction from his body; he actually was able to enjoy it.

Lorenzo pulled out his fingers and laid back on the bed. “Whenever you are ready then, my angel,” he said softly, holding himself up with one hand, laying the other behind his head with a sexy smirk.

Andrew took a deep breath, still afraid it would hurt but he was determined to get this right. He saddled him and used a hand to guide himself, helped by Lorenzo holding himself up. He slowly sank down, taking more and more of him inside until Lorenzo removed his hand and Andrew did the same. A few seconds later Lorenzo was fully buried inside him. Andrew took a deep breath. He felt full and stretched for Lorenzo wasn’t small but it didn’t hurt much at all, it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a small burn but it was nothing like he had felt before.

Lorenzo was panting heavily and fisting the sheets to prevent himself from just thrusting up into him. Slowly, almost experimentally, Andrew moved up and then down again on his cock, drawing gasps of pleasure from Lorenzo. Seeing his reaction Andrew smiled, happy he seemed to have done well, and started moving faster and faster with each thrust up and down. Lorenzo leaned his head back and enjoyed being ridden, fisting the sheets as he didn’t want to hold Andrew down, unsure of how he would react to that.

“Fuck!” Lorenzo got out as Andrew came back down and he was again fully buried inside his angel. His eyes were dazed and half-closed but he smiled when he saw Andrew smiling down at him when he realized he was doing this to the Warlock.

“You feel so amazing, so tight and soft. I love being inside you, angel,” Lorenzo praised and Andrew blushed, smiling happily at the words as Lorenzo had intended before fucking himself with increasing speed and moaning out loud as Lorenzo had asked him to do when he angled himself right and Lorenzo hit just the right spot inside of him at each thrust.

Andrew felt he was close, leaking pre-come but he felt too exposed like this, unable to let go as Lorenzo had asked of him. He needed something to help him over the edge.

“Please…hold my hands,” Andrew begged, moving his hands from Lorenzo’s chest where he had placed them for support to holding them out in front of him.

Uncertain precisely what he needed Lorenzo took his arms and held them behind his back, shifting slightly so Andrew was leaning more against him, using magic to tie his hands behind his back and using his hands on Andrew’s hips to lift him up and down on his cock.

“Do you like that?” Lorenzo asked, wanting to be sure he would not be adding to the clearly very horrible sexual experiences he had had before.

Andrew moaned and nodded.

“Words, angel. Use words,” Lorenzo insisted as he kept fucking him.

“Yes, please. Please keep fucking me like that,” Andrew almost screamed, so close.

“You feel so amazing,” Lorenzo mumbled as his movements got frantic, chasing his release. Knowing now what Andrew needed he whispered in his ear, “Come when you want, angel, come for me. Come with me.”

The words, the excitement of the day…it all crashed over him and Andrew came explosively before he had even managed to beg Lorenzo to touch him, amazed at himself for being able to come again. Seconds later Lorenzo came inside him with a loud yell, feeling boneless and satisfied.

Andrew was shaking, trying not to collapse down on Lorenzo, his body so relaxed and drained it made it difficult for him to stay on top. Lorenzo released his magical hold on his hands and gently lifted him off while pulling his hips back. As he slipped out Andrew gave a small whimper at the loss. Lorenzo put his hands on Andrew’s back and guided him down to lie with his head on his shoulder. With a wave of a hand he cleaned them both before holding around Andrew possessively and protectively, using magic to pull a blanket up and over them. A large smile was on his face, like the cat that got the cream.

Andrew slowly recovered from his second orgasm, it had been so intense he had almost blacked out for a moment. For a few minutes he was smiling, content, forgetting the world. Then he suddenly realized this wasn’t his bed and he had learned painfully enough what that meant.

Andrew pulled out from Lorenzo’s embrace as carefully as he could and moved away, Lorenzo letting go of him with a puzzled look. Andrew sat up and put his legs over the edge of the bed, his back to Lorenzo.

“Where do you think you’re going, pet?” Lorenzo asked lazily but frowning, narrowing his eyes, grasping Andrew’s nearest wrist in a strong grip.

“Oh…Do you…do you not want me to leave?” Andrew asked softly, confused.

“Leave? And go where?” Lorenzo asked puzzled.

“Somewhere else.” Andrew paused, looking down. “They…They would normally have me sleep on the floor until they wanted to use me again if I was not sent to my own room.”

Ok, it was official. Lorenzo was going to murder all Shadowhunters still left standing when they took Alicante!

“Angel, look at me,” Lorenzo asked softly, fighting down his anger as he got a small glimpse into the agony Andrew had obviously experienced in Idris.

Andrew did so, his eyes worried and hesitant, afraid at hearing the anger in Lorenzo’s voice, thinking he had fucked up somehow and would be punished.

“You belong to me now and I take care of what I own,” Lorenzo said seriously, strength yet also gentleness in his voice.

Andrew blushed, unsure what to say and even more uncertain what that actually meant.

“Thank you,” he got out anxiously. Maybe it meant he wouldn’t be shared with anyone else? He hoped that. Lorenzo had been nice to him today, nicer than anyone except Alec had been to him in as long as he could remember back.

“You really don’t know what I expect from you?” Lorenzo asked, frowning. Someone had clearly broken him in a very bad way. It made Lorenzo’s blood boil.

“I…I’m sorry, Sir,” Andrew said confused, not knowing what he was supposed to do, getting tense and nervous, afraid he was in trouble.

“Don’t be; just come here,” Lorenzo said, nodding towards himself and the bed as he released his hold on his wrist.

“On…on the bed?” Andrew asked hesitantly, nervously clasping and unclasping his hands.

“Yes,” Lorenzo insisted, nodding his head to emphasize his point. “In fact come here,” he opened his arms wide.

Andrew hesitated for just a second, wondering if this was a trick. Then he cautiously turned back around and laid his head on Lorenzo’s chest, laying stiffly in his arms, unsure what to expect.

“That’s a good little angel,” Lorenzo praised, closing his arms around him and kissing the top of his head.

His words made Andrew smile; he had done good. He wasn’t used to praise and it went straight to his heart. When after a few minutes nothing happened except Lorenzo holding him close Andrew began to relax. After another ten minutes he began to doze off and after half an hour he had fallen asleep, the exhaustion of the last few weeks catching up with him.

Lorenzo held him close, thoughtful. It was a bit scary how quickly his demonic side wanted to claim this angel as his own and how easily his human side wanted to let him. He had wanted to resent the Shadowhunter but there was nothing in the man to resent; he was everything normal Shadowhunters weren’t; he was kind and soft, submissive and fragile, considerate and above all…he was innocent. He was truly innocent.

It was easy to want him, to care for him, for though he might be a Shadowhunter Andrew was nothing like them. In fact, he was turning out to be everything Lorenzo had always wanted; truly wanted, in his life. He was awaking all his possessive and protective instincts and he could barely wait to fully make him his. He decided he would make his claim on him already tomorrow; why wait? But for now he would let him rest while he guarded over him; no one would ever hurt him ever again. No one would dare; Andrew belonged to him now and he had meant it when he had said that he protected what was his.

 

Chapter Text

Please read the author's notes for chapter warnings. This is the darkest chapter of this story and show how Magnus finally manages to fully gain Alec's submission and surrender. Sex in this chapter too! Jump this chapter if you want to read the lighter chapters which will follow (well, as light as stuff in this world can ever be).

Chapter 8: Make me forget

 

“I'm dying to catch my breath. Oh, why don't I ever learn? "( All I Need, Within Temptation)

 

“Alexander,” Magnus said as soon as he entered the study, looking around watchfully for him. Despite the deal they had made he didn’t trust his former adversary; he was still a defeated enemy and trust was earned and never given.

“Good evening, Prince,” Alec said formally as he entered the study to greet him, coming from the kitchen.

Alec fought to keep his nervousness out of his voice and eyes and focused on a spot on the floor, averting his eyes, as he came closer, his hands fists by his side. He recognized the sweeping look Magnus was doing; seeing if anything was amiss or out of order, a warrior skill not easily unlearned.

“So…what have you been up to, Shadowhunter?” Magnus asked, relaxing slightly when he saw Alec and stopped in the middle of his study, waiting for Alec to come to him. As his gaze swept the study he noticed the broken glass on the drinks trolley and the half drunken whiskey and he frowned. What had he been up to? He had thought him too intelligent for such games, such obvious signs of disobedience.

“I cooked dinner,” Alec said softly, his voice appeasing as he came closer, his steps small and slow. He knew he was delaying, fearful of the punishment he knew was coming and he hated himself for his weakness.

“I can smell,” Magnus said evenly, sniffling the air. It smelled surprisingly nice and pleasant. “I didn’t think Shadowhunters could cook.”

“They normally can’t,” Alec acknowledged, trying to force his mind away from what he knew was coming and just focus on his responses. He had almost reached the Warlock.

Magnus crossed his arms over his chest and raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He was going to give Alec only one more chance to come clean and thus save himself from making a bad situation worse by trying to hide it.

“Is that all that happened here? You cooked dinner?” Magnus asked, fighting not to show his disappointment that Alec would break their deal already on the first day here.

He had treated Alec well considering he had never even wanted this deal to start with. He had given him only three simple rules to follow for now; speak only when spoken to, do what you are told and don’t make trouble. Alec seemed determined to disobey all of them on his first day here. Alec would have known there were consequences to this; something else, something stronger than the vow he had given when they had made the deal had clearly taken precedence.

Alec took a deep breath, knowing Magnus had noticed the broken glass on the cocktail trolley and likely, given what Alec was sure were keen observation skills, he had also noticed the reduced amount of whiskey in the whiskey bottle on the trolley. He came closer to Magnus and the Warlock eyed him curiously, a hint of wariness in his eyes as he watched him. Alec dropped to his knees in front of him and bowed his head, keeping his eyes on the floor in front of him, his hands in his lap.

“I broke a glass, Prince,” Alec admitted softly, hating that his voice sounded so weak. He had done it knowing full well he was disobeying; breaking noses and accepting the consequences was the Lightwood motto after all. Well, now it was time to accept the consequences.

Magnus nodded his approval of his admittance; at least he hadn’t been foolish enough to try and hide it.

“By accident?” Magnus questioned, giving him a chance to lessen the punishment if he could justify at least some of his actions here.

Alec winched but still shook his head and said, “No, Prince.”

Magnus was silent for a moment, making Alec tense even more, his hands fists in his lap and he fought not to fiddle.

“Thank you for being truthful. I will consider this in your punishment,” he finally said, his voice calm…dangerously calm.

Alec was relieved to hear that; Valentine would not have considered telling the truth about an event a reason for lenience. Now of course came the worse part.

“I also drank some of your whiskey,” Alec admitted softly, wincing inwardly at even admitting it and saying it made him feel that his hangover wasn’t quite gone yet.

Magnus sighed in frustration; he had noticed but had somehow hoped Alec just wouldn’t be that…careless. It was a bold and defiant move for a first day to put it mildly; and also beyond stupid for a man of Alexander’s intelligence. There was something else going on here.

“Why?” Magnus asked, his voice was more baffled than angry at this point.

Alec winced slightly, not sure if he should tell the truth.

“Does it matter?” Alec asked in a defeated tone. It had never mattered before, not to Valentine.

Magnus’ eyes narrowed in annoyance at Alec’s attempt to avoid answering his question.

“It does to me,” he said matter of fact.

“To help Jace,” Alec admitted softly, knowing this would not go over well.

“How does you getting drunk off my 100 year old whiskey, a gift from my dear friend Ragnor by the way, help Valentine’s son?!” Magnus asked dangerously, his voice sharp.

Including Jace in this deal had never been something he had wanted; showing such mercy to a man who had been one of the most hated and feared of all their enemies was very risky to put it mildly. A part of him was still amazed Alec had managed to talk him into it, despite the rather appealing price. However, if Alec had a continued allegiance towards Jace it would threaten his powerbase more than anything else; if he as a leader could not even command respect in his own house and even worse; lost it to Valentine’s son…. It would not only threaten his rule but could threaten the unity he had created within the Shadow World. The bond between the Downworlder races were built upon customs, rules, discipline, respect and strength. Without it they would easily descend back into in-fighting and Idris could regain the upper hand as they had had for many years; playing Werewolves and vampires against each other, ensuring the Seelies stayed isolated and didn’t get involved and catering to the love for deals, money and power inherent to all Warlocks that made it easy to convince them not to support one common ruler.

“The bond between us goes both ways,” Alec explained softly, looking at his hands in his lap. “What I felt, he felt.”

“What does that mean? Did it ease his suffering?” Magnus asked, unsure how a parabatai bond worked. He had heard of it but since Alec had explained how Jace had punished him, beaten him, he had assumed it would be something like sensing each other’s mood or something like that.

“Yes, Prince,” Alec admitted.

“So in other words you ensured that the punishment I had given him and the revenge rightfully befitting my friend and a member of the War Council, Ragnor Fell, did not come to pass?” Magnus asked carefully, fighting very hard now to control his rising anger. Not only had Alec defied him, but he had done it to ease a punishment he himself had ordered carried out…for Valentine’s son no less!

“Yes, Prince,” Alec acknowledged softly. It sounded bad the way Magnus said it; like rebellion. He hadn’t thought of it like that. He had only thought to help Jace.

“You are aware I will have to punish you quite severely and publically for that?” Magnus asked darkly but matter of fact. “If what you tell me is true there is no way a Warlock as powerful as Ragnor would not have noticed the power floating into Valentine’s son; it is well known you two are parabatai so it would not be difficult to guess what was going on,” Magnus continued and then looked down at Alec in annoyance at forcing him into this situation.

Magnus didn’t mind delivering punishments when it was earned and it was certainly earned now, but he didn’t enjoy doing it and would really have preferred to avoid it.

“I would have expected a man of your intelligence to hide your defiance better,” Magnus commented with a hint of disappointment; he had expected better of an enemy who had been so intelligent and strategically challenging on the battlefield.

“I did not intend defiance, Prince. I merely meant to help him endure this,” Alec confessed, trying not to wince at the promised upcoming punishment.

Alec had always hated it when Valentine had punished him in public, he had ensured to add verbal or physical humiliation to the physical pain. He hoped Magnus would not do that. Something told him he wouldn’t’; Valentine liked control for the sake of control. Magnus seemed to seek control because he had to if he was to stay in his position of power.

“Since you chose to make this mess you can just as well help resolve it. How do you suggest I go about punishing you for this offence?” Magnus asked evenly, keeping tight control of his anger.

Alec clearly still had a strong allegiance to Jace. He would need to find a way to break that and do so quickly. Else he would find himself in a situation like this again and he could well risk everything falling apart and no matter how tempting Alec’s deal had been it wasn’t tempting enough for that. His people, all of his people, came first and always would. He was a leader and he intended to see this war to its conclusion and bring his people victory, peace and finally the healing and rebuilding they all so desperately needed after suffering years of brutal war and heavy losses. Even with magic war carried a heavy price; in terms of bodies, pain, blood – and money. War wasn’t cheap; even in the Shadow World.

Alec shrugged, not sure how to reply, certain any response would be wrong. There was really nothing he could suggest. He had known it had been wrong when he had done it and he had still done it. He had known he would be punished and he had still done it. He couldn’t explain it; it was like he got caught up in the moment, in his feelings for Jace and had forgotten about the consequences. Now, back in the moment, facing the punishment for his actions, remembering past punishments delivered by Valentine or Jace….or further back his father, he had to use all of his self-control not to shudder and his hands shook slightly. He squeezed his hands together in his lap to still them, not wanting to appear weak.

“I….I don’t know, Prince,” Alec said softly, helplessly, his voice trembling ever so slightly despite his best efforts to control it.

Seeing the fear and terror Alec was trying so bravely to control Magnus found himself feeling a hint of pity for the kneeling Nephilim though he told himself he really shouldn’t. Maybe the best way to ensure Alec remembered his allegiance was to him now, not Jace, was to show him who he belonged to, who he had chosen to belong to.

“Tell you what….” Magnus said slowly, thinking out loud, giving Alec one last chance, one last mercy. “I am aware you are not used to your new life here and that you are not used to the rules that govern the Downworld. I will therefore take into consideration that you didn’t intend defiance so if you’re better tonight than you were earlier on your knees I will leave it at 20 lashes, in the courtyard, tomorrow.”

Alec nodded eagerly; he could easily take 20 lashes – that was a light punishment compared to what Valentine had done. Jace, though, had often been just as merciful as Magnus and would give him 20 lashes, sometimes even less, when he had done something wrong.

“Thank you, Prince,” Alec said warmly, barely remembered to keep his eyes averted and on his lap, instinctively wanting to look up at him to show him he was grateful for this chance.

It took his brain a few minutes to remember that Magnus' mercy was conditional on his sexual performance and he felt a hint of fear and nervousness at that but he quickly pushed it aside. It couldn’t be that difficult. He knew both Jace and Izzy had been very sexually active for some years now; surely he could figure it out too. He would just do whatever Magnus wanted; that would be easy, right? Hopefully Magnus would make it clear what he wanted so he could do it correctly.

Magnus narrowed his eyes, not sure if he was doing the right thing by being lenient in his punishment but willing to give him a chance. He was still certain the key was for him to break the bond Alec had to Jace so he would finally truly belong to him.

“Very well. Now, get up and kiss me,” Magnus demanded, eager to move on to something more pleasant. He had not expected this evening to go this way; he had imagined he would have taken Alec to his bed already by now.

Alec eagerly got to his feet and leaned in. Magnus kept his arms by his side as Alec with a slight blush put his arms around his neck, trying to maintain eye contact as he drew nearer and nearer until he put his lips on his. At first the kiss was chaste as Magnus simply stood there, not responding, wanting Alec to have to work for it. Then, as Alec kissed him more passionately, moving his hands to cup Magnus’s face, the Warlock reacted and put a hand on his neck and an arm around his waist, pulling him even closer. He forced his tongue into Alec’s mouth and the Nephilim easily gave access, surrendering under his attack, inviting him in. Magnus tightened his arm around his waist and his neck, holding him in place and close to him, until…

“Ouch,” Alec couldn’t prevent a whimper when Magnus’s arm around his waist closed forcefully, possessively, around him, touching his abused and sensitive skin.

Magnus released his hold on him at once in surprise and eyed him suspiciously.

“By Lilith! What is going on here?” Magnus exclaimed, looking confused at Alec.

He hadn’t even touched him that forcefully; why would he be in pain? Was this a trick?

Realizing his mistake Alec hastily moved back into Magnus’ space.

“It’s alright,” Alec insisted, putting his arms back around his neck, a determined look on his face. “It won’t happen again,” Alec swore, his voice strong and certain.

At Magnus’ disbelieving look Alec added a bit more softly, afraid he had ruined it now, that Magnus would recant his offer of mercy, “Please.”

Magnus’ eyes narrowed in doubt and he pulled Alec’s arms off him and took his right wrist in a bruising grip, pulling the sleeve up. Alec nervously bit his lower lip until it bled but didn’t try and move away from his grip. Magnus looked at the red skin on his arm and then back at Alec’s face, his eyes so furious Alec looked down, blushing, worried.

“You burned yourself?” Magnus asked disbelieving, shock and something close to horror on his face as he fought to understand why in the world he would do that.

Alec nodded mutely but Magnus tightened his grip on his wrist forcefully.

“Answer me when I speak to you,” Magnus demanded hotly.

“Yes,” Alec got out, the bruising grip so harsh on his sensitive skin it made tears appear at the corner of his eyes.

Magnus took a deep calming breath and released his hold on his wrist as if it was poison.

“You do know I will have to add this to your punishment?” He asked calmly, his tone dangerous and seeming to echo in the room.

Alec looked confused at him. “Ah….Why, Prince? I did not touch anything of yours.”

Magnus’ expression darkened and his lips became a thin line.

“Yes, you did. You touched you,” Magnus said disapprovingly.

“Oh,” Alec looked down, blushing. “I did not know,” he added softly.

“Our deal was quite clear; you offered your body and soul. That also means any pain, any scar on your body will be left by me or not at all. Do you understand?” Magnus asked, taking a hold of his chin, his grip hard and bruising, his anger kept under control but just barely.

Alec would have nodded but couldn’t so instead he said softly, “Yes, Prince. I’m…I’m sorry.”

No one had cared what harm might befall his body before. Magnus’ words made him feel….almost like he cared. Which was weird but it still felt…nice somehow. That someone cared if his body was broken. He had never had that before.

“If you had known it was forbidden for you to harm yourself would it have prevented this?” Magnus asked seriously, needing to know just how deep Alec’s connection to Jace went.

Alec hesitated but then admitted in a soft and low voice, almost childlike, “I did it for Jace.”

“So you would still have done it,” Magnus surmised darkly and released his hold on his chin almost as if the contact was burning him. Could he break a connection that strong? Would it even be possible?

Alec didn’t reply but bit into his lower lip again, tasting blood.

“This really won’t do. I am not used to being a second choice,” Magnus warned, his voice dangerous and low.

“You aren’t. I promise!” Alec exclaimed, nodding his head to emphasize his point, fear flashing in his eyes, afraid Magnus might consider going back on his deal or even worse; harming Jace.

Alec put a hand hesitantly but pleading on Magnus’ nearest bicep, his eyes begging with him to believe him.

“Hmmm,” Magnus said thoughtfully, fighting hard to remain calm.

He didn’t believe him; of course given the choice Alec would still choose Jace, his parabatai, and that was just unacceptable. He would have to do something about that; to make Alec realize he had made a deal and that deal meant he belonged to him now and not Jace or Valentine or even himself.

What could be do to break such a bond though? Logically the bond didn’t make sense to Magnus; Jace had beaten and punished Alec but apparently balancing that with a soft touch here and there in a world otherwise devoid of gentleness had been enough for him to gain Alec’s selfless support.

“I will add 10 lashes for your punishment tomorrow for the self-harm for you to understand this lesson. Anything else you want to tell me?” Magnus asked as calmly as he could, crossing his arms over his chest, making Alec withdraw his hand.

Alec winced; 30 lashes was harder to get through but he had done it before. Maybe if he was lucky Magnus would let him use healing runes…no, probably not. He sighed softly and tried to find some measure of courage. He had to show Magnus the rest then and get it over with. Keeping his eyes on the floor Alec lifted up the sleeve on his left arm, showing the bloody words he had craved there.

“Just this,” Alec said softly, his voice shaking slightly as he first now understood that for Magnus his crime of self-harm was the worst one yet; made worse by the fact he had done it for Jace.

Magnus’ eyes narrowed in fury. This Shadowhunter was really testing his limits. Messages for another man, an enemy, Valentine’s son no less, carved into his own flesh – flesh that he had begged Magnus to claim as his own.

“You must like punishments,” Magnus said darkly, his anger boiling just below the surface.

He was fighting to find a way he could ensure this stopped now.

Alec looked miserable, knowing it would surely seem like that.

“Ten lashes, Prince?” Alec suggested softly, guessing at the punishment from Magnus’ previous words and hoping it wouldn’t be more than that.

He was up at forty lashes now; he was already recoiling at the idea of the upcoming punishment, his body remembering the agony of such a punishment. Valentine had sometimes given him forty lashes in one sitting for some offences so he knew that unless Magnus would heal his current injuries and let him use runes and preferably both he would not be conscious through them all. That was at least a small mercy. Of course, he could also use runes or magic to keep him conscious…Valentine had always done that. He shivered. He really hadn’t been thinking this through at all.

Magus tried hard to keep his temper under control; what use was punishments if Alec didn’t learn from them?

“Yes,” Magnus agreed matter of fact.

As others would know about Alec’s help to Jace he had to carry out this punishment and do it in public but he needed something else to ensure Alec would from now on belong to him and not Jace. It was not something that could be done with words or logic or conventional punishment.

Alec grimaced at the thought; he would barely be able to stand, let alone walk, when he came to after the punishment and he should know; Valentine had either refused him iratze’s all together after any and all punishments he had done or if he was lucky he had been allowed to use them a few days later.

An idea came to Magnus; a way to make Alec truly belong to him. Instead of trying to erase Alec’s bond with Jace maybe he should instead focus on replacing it. He had a clear idea of how Jace had gained Alec’s loyalty; a balanced act between punishment and reward, pain and pleasure, hurting and healing.

“Since you seem determined to mark your skin with ownership claims don’t you think you should instead wear one of mine?” Magnus asked almost conversationally, his idea of how to get Alec to truly belong to him forming more clearly in his mind.

Magnus gave into his demonic side’s need to erase the traitorous words on Alec’s arm, the sign of his disobedience, and a signal of his loyalty to someone else. Instead he would replace those words the same way he sought to replace, instead of destroy, the bond Alec had to Jace.

Alec nodded grimly, unsure what that meant, fighting his fear and uncertainty.

“Yes, Prince,” he said meekly, his eyes huge and fearful, unsure what Magnus was planning to do, well aware that this obvious sign of his loyalty to Jace would be a thorn in his side and even he had to admit it would be hard to see it as anything else than a sign of disrespect and defiance.

With a wave of Magnus’ hand the bloody message to Jace disappeared from Alec’s arm, healed, and Alec took a deep breath of relief until Magnus took a firm grip on his left wrist. The hold was so strong it was bruising, sure to leave marks in the morning.

“Let’s add something more fitting,” Magnus said matter of fact, his tone dark, his gaze strong, his hold on his wrist possessive.

Alec held his gaze, a hint of fear in his eyes but also strength. Using magic Magnus carved the words ‘Magnus’ into Alec’s arm where the ‘Hold on’ text had been. Alec hissed and winced from the pain but otherwise didn’t react. The pain was the same as when he had written the text to Jace; no worse and no better. When he was done, Magnus gave Alec a half questioning, half challenging look as he released his hold on his wrist.

“Much better,” Alec agreed softly, thinking Magnus was expecting an answer, able to keep the pain out of his voice now that the original shock had faded.

He looked down at his arm where the letters were bleeding slightly, the shallow wounds already itchy and uncomfortable just as his message to Jace had been when he had first cut that one.

Magnus shook his head, clearly annoyed now, having wanted a stronger reaction. He took a firm hand around Alec’s neck and pulled him close. Alec looked at him, his eyes wide, trying to hide his fear and nervousness.

“Do you need a lesson in who you belong to?” Magnus hissed.

Alec didn’t know what to say so he just shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. Despite Magnus being his enemy he hadn’t really feared him until now. Having grown up with Valentine few things were scary any longer.

“Answer me when I speak to you!” Magnus thundered.

Alec recoiled but couldn’t pull back as Magnus’ hold on his neck was hard and unnerving; he had added magic to his already strong physical grip.

“No, Prince,” Alec insisted, making his voice softer, pleading. He tried to shake his head to add to the denial but couldn’t move his head due to Magnus’ grip.

Something broke inside Magnus. Alec had asked for this deal but it was turning out to be much more trouble than it was worth! It was getting tedious. He would have order in his own house! Losing his temper Magnus started walking towards his bedroom with angry strides, pulling Alec along by his bruising grip on the back of his neck.

“Come!” He ordered unnecessary as Alec couldn’t do anything else so instead willingly followed, fighting to keep up.

Alec tried not to panic, not to be afraid when Magus guided them to the master bedroom. It was huge; a big bed, a large mirror on one side and a connected bathroom and walk in closet. Once inside Magnus forced him towards the full size mirror and positioned him in front of it, standing behind him as he held him firmly in place with the grip on his neck. Alec barely recognized himself in the mirror; his sleeves were up; one arm showing the redness of his skin, the other showing the bloody text Magnus had carved there. His face and eyes were puffy, his eyes huge with so many withheld emotions it was confusing and there were tears at the edges of his eyes he hadn’t noticed before.

“See that?” Magnus hissed, pulling his head to the side while pulling down on his sweater to reveal the MB brand on his neck. “Do you see?”

“Yes, Prince,” Alec said timidly, his voice trembling slightly at the anger rolling off Magnus in waves, obediently keeping his eyes on the brand in the mirror.

“Let me show you what it means then!” Magnus boomed as he sprung Alec around by the grip on his neck.

Using magic to aid him he flung Alec on the bed like he was a ragdoll. Alec scrambled to turn around so he was on his back, his eyes wide with barely withheld fear but also strength and determination. He pushed himself up on his elbows and glared at Magnus. He was tired of being afraid; he was tired of feeling. He just wanted it all to stop. He didn’t care anymore if it was due to pain or pleasure. He wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling, stop it all. He wanted to forget everything, just for a little while.

Alec knew he needed to appease the Warlock, make him remember why he had made this deal, make his fury disappear and he could think of only one way to do both – carry through with what Magnus clearly wanted from him.

“Then show me,” he said quietly as he gave Magnus a steady look. “Show me what it means to be yours.”

His words made Magnus freeze and he felt like cold water had been thrown at him. What was it with this Nephilim that made him lose control and give into his demonic instincts so easily?

Magnus gave him a piercing look and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“I told you; I only want willing bed partners,” Magnus said coldly, stopping to look down at him by the foot of the bed.

Alec visibly relaxed and the fear withdrew somewhat from his eyes. However, this was still his first time and he didn’t know what to do. He felt exhausted, his head was still pounding, his skin was hurting, the words Magnus had carved into him was aching and he was still aware enough of what was going on that he was worried for his siblings, for Andrew….for himself and what was going to happen. He really wanted Magnus to just take control and make him feel something that wasn’t pain. He just wanted to feel something, anything….to forget. He was still nervous though, years of being told that his sexual desires were wrong and forbidden were hard to ignore.

“Please,” Alec added softly, lowering his gaze slightly, hoping the submissive gesture would help dim the fury in the Warlock.

“Please what?” Magnus asked coldly, darkly.

The gesture wasn’t lost on him and it made Magnus’ anger and fury mix with arousal and a need to claim and dominate the other man; to show him who he belonged to.

“Please make me forget about all of this. Take me somewhere else,” Alec begged softly, blushing at his own words and how they echoed in the room.

Alec was in too much discomfort and too afraid to feel aroused at the moment but he meant what he said; he wanted Magnus to do something to make him forget – forget about his pain, forget about the upcoming punishment he had earned, forget about his fears and worries. Most importantly he wanted the Warlock’s anger to fade so he wouldn’t have to fear any more punishments or percussions.

“I won’t ask again,” Magnus warned as he looked at the Nephilim on his bed.

Oh, Alec looked so inviting and it took all his willpower not to give into his anger and literally fuck him into submission. He needed to move Alec’s fixation from Jace to himself; this would not be a bad way to start doing that.

Alec swallowed nervously, noticing the look of lust mixing with anger and fury in the Warlock’s gaze. He had one chance to make this offer himself and earn himself back some credibility and maybe if he was lucky, some mercy.

Therefore, despite his blush and his embarrassment he begged, his cheeks red, his eyes lowered, keeping his voice soft but firm, “Please…I want you to fuck me.”

Magnus smiled predatorily, an idea coming to his mind of how to ensure Alec would belong to him and not Jace. He could give Alec the one thing Jace never could, never would, having been raised in a homophobic society. He could offer him this; an opportunity to discover the pleasures of the flesh.

Alec’s begging went straight to his already half-hard cock and he said seductively, “Oh, I certainly will, angel. But first….I want to see you beg.”

What a snap of his fingers Alec’s clothes were gone and Alec did an involuntary surprised gasp before he managed to control himself, forcing himself not to cover himself. Their eyes locked, something close to primal lust and challenge in Magnus’ eyes. Alec didn’t move, his gaze strong despite the uncertainty and hint of fear he couldn’t quite hide.

So sudden Alec gave a small yell Magnus reached over and pulled at both of his ankles, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed until his knees were by the edge of the bed, his lower legs dangling over the edge. Alec forced himself not to resist nor move as Magnus released him.

“You look magnificent,” Magnus mumbled as he looked at him, his eyes dark with desire.

Alec's body was strong and battle trained, scars from battles and punishments only adding to his appeal, dark runes everywhere on his torso and likely his back too and Magnus' brand standing out permanently on his neck.

Magnus bent down and starting to plant kisses all over his body, starting by his feet and moving upwards slowly. At first Alec was tense and stiff but then he managed to relax more and more, fear turning to lust as his body surrendered to the sensations. Magnus was leaving hickeys and marks wherever he went, making Alec moan with the mixed sensation of pleasure and just the smallest amount of pain. It was a start, it was helping Alec forget, making his brain foggy. It wasn’t enough though; he needed more.

Alec fought not to grip Magnus’ hair and force him to keep moving up so he instead gripped at the sheets.

“Please,” Alec begged when Magnus’ hand finally touched his hard cock, making him moan from each hard stroke of his hand.

Magnus chuckled at seeing Alec throw his head back, leaning into his touch, trying to get more.

“Spread your legs for me,” Magnus ordered sharply and Alec obeyed at once, wanting, needing more.

Magnus grinned inwardly at that; he was a fast learner. He released his grip on him and climbed between his legs, enjoying the disappointed look on Alec’s face when he stopped touching him. He conjured up a tube of lube and poured some into his hand before placing a lubed finger against Alec’s opening. Alec instinctively tensed at the unknown sensation. Magnus looked him in the eye, daring him to move. Alec looked back, his lips set in a firm line, not moving. Locking eyes with him Magnus inserted one lubed finger all the way in, drawing a gasp of surprise and a hint of pain from Alec at the unfamiliar sensation.

“You’re tight,” Magnus breathed, his voice thin with arousal; he could barely get one finger in. Alec would feel so amazing around his cock; so tight.

Alec took a deep breath, fighting to get used to the sensation.

“More, please,” he begged as he had gotten used to it, the pain having faded, liking the feeling of being full, liking how it made him unable to think of anything else.

“You like that?” Magnus asked as he pulled the finger in and out in a repeated motion.

Magnus made sure their eyes met again before he added a second finger, again going all the way in one go. Alec winced at the burn but then fought to breathe, to accommodate the size.

“Yes, yes,” Alec got out and moved a little in an attempt to get Magnus to move his fingers in and out again and moaned in pleasure when he did. This was better than before; his brain was getting more and more foggy but it still wasn’t enough.

“Tell me what you want,” Magnus ordered sharply as he moved his fingers in and out in a fast motion.

This time he didn’t bother with looking at Alec but just added a third lubed finger before continuing to fuck him with his fingers. Alec hissed at the added size but after a few deep breaths he was enjoying the way it felt; even the burn of it.

“Please…” Alec moaned desperately. "Please, I want you, please."

It still wasn’t enough. He could still think and he didn’t want to think. He was clasping and unclasping the bedsheets, trying to find something to hold on to.

Magnus withdrew his fingers, unable to hold back any longer. He needed to be inside him, to claim him as his in a way he knew no one had done before and knowing that just heightened his arousal.

“Move up and hold onto the bed posts,” Magnus ordered and Alec scrambled to obey, his eyes glassy with lust. Unknown to him he had tears at the corner of his eyes from the sensations and need.

“By Edom! You look wrecked!” Magnus mumbled in awe as Alec had moved up to hold onto the bedposts as he looked at his body covered with sweat, slightly trembling, his eyes filled with need and desperation.

Alec just now realized Magnus was still dressed and it made him blush and feel humiliated which somehow just added to his arousal and made it easier for him to let go. Magnus looked at him with a hungry expression as he quickly released his hard cock from his pants. He snapped his fingers and his cock was lubed before he positioned himself between Alec's legs, at his opening. Their eyes meet and Alec bit his lower lip nervously; Magnus was big, much bigger than his fingers had been. It would not be an easy fit. He was happy Magnus didn’t wait too long to enter him as it would just have made him even more nervous.

“Fuck!” Alec cried out when Magnus started to enter him, gashing for air. Damn! It hurt but as Magnus stopped, fighting to remain still, allowing him to get used to the feeling the pain started to fade.

Alec was about to tell Magnus he could move when he went all the way in in one motion.

“Shit!” Alec cursed, fighting his instinctive reaction to tense. Unwanted and unknown tears formed at the corner of his eyes; the emotions of the day too much to bear, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming.

Alec forced himself to take a deep breath and relax his muscles. Magnus gave him a questioning look he couldn’t decipher but then he moved out and back in, hitting just the right spot that made Alec moan from pleasure, his eyes widening in surprise. So, that was what it felt like. Seeing his reaction Magnus smirked and repeated the movement, in and out again, hard, drawing another moan from Alec’s lips. Magnus struck up a brutal rhythm and Alec’s hands tightened around the bedposts, making the bed move slightly with each hard stroke.

“Please,” Alec begged, mumbling the plea over and over as he held on so tight around the bed posts that his knuckles were white. He felt he was getting close, the day having left him feeling raw and exposed, needing this release.

“Please…Please, I need…” Alec moaned as Magnus hit the right spot again. He was close but not quite there.

“What do you need, angel?” Magnus grunted in his ear as he slammed back into him.

“More, harder…please,” Alec begged, not sure if that was what he wanted, his brain having disappeared off to somewhere, his body tense and waiting for just that last thing that could send him over the edge.

“You look so beautiful like this, begging to be claimed by me,” Magnus whispered in his ear, his words sending shivers down Alec’s spine.

Alec had never heard anyone talk like that, would never have imagined he could ever get this. He was so close but needed something else to push him over. He felt trapped between feelings of pure ecstasy and the feelings of shame and humiliation at liking this, wanting this, that being brought up in Idris had left him with.

Magnus seemed to know what he needed when he growled into his ear, “I want you to come for me, just like this, just from my cock inside of you. Show me how much you enjoy this. Come for me!”

“Ahhh!” The words finally enabled Alec to let go, to surrender and submit and he gladly did, tears falling down his cheeks.

He came explosively, the stress of the day, of the last many weeks, finally gone as he collapsed boneless back on the bed, seeing stars before his eyes. Feeling high on endorphins he was unaware he was smiling.

Magnus kept up his brutal pace, chasing his own release. Feeling over sensitive and raw Alec tried to tense around him to make it quicker; the earlier pleasure now turning to pain. With a last deep thrust and a muffled yell, Magnus came inside him, making Alec give a small sigh of relief.

Magnus managed to hold himself up on his arms, forcing a few deep breaths to remain focused and in control. Then he pulled out, trying to be gentle but it still drew a wince of pain from Alec. Magnus rolled to the side so not to fall on him. He laid on his side, watching Alec who still looked dazed. He hadn’t moved, his arms still holding onto the bedposts as if for dear life.

“Alexander, you can let go now,” Magnus said with some amusement in his voice.

“Oh,” Alec said, a hint of shyness in his tone, blushing slightly as he let go, wincing a bit when he pulled his arms down from the strain in them.

“What that really your first time?” Magnus asked softly, curiously.

At times he could almost forget this was his enemy, a general he had spent many hours fighting. Looking dazed, shy, submissive and very well-fucked like he did now he looked almost…innocent. Like the young man he was.

“Yeah,” Alec admitted softly, blushing, not looking him in the eyes.

“I like the idea that I have been the first and only man who will ever have you,” Magnus said with a possessiveness he wasn’t quite sure where came from.

“Why is it relevant if it was my first time? Was it bad?” Alec asked nervously, well aware he had sold this deal to Magnus among other things on his ability to satisfy him sexually.

“No,” Magnus calmed him with a smile.

Overcome with emotions that post-sex always brought him Magnus couldn’t help but give Alec a tender stroke on the cheek, making the Nephilim look surprised at him given how rough the sex had been.

“I will do better next time,” Alec promised, still not looking at him but suddenly feeling a need to please him.

He looked endearing like this, no doubt, but Magnus really wanted him to give up more control and that seemed difficult for Alec – in particular voicing what he wanted. They would have to work on that. Magnus sighed inwardly; this was why he until now hadn’t done the human part of spoils of war and why he never bedded repressed people, Shadowhunters, also captured ones, included.

Magnus took a hand under Alec’s chin and forced his face up so he looked at him.

“You will learn in time to say what you need as you get more comfortable. It’s not an exam, Alexander,” Magnus said with something between amusement and disbelief.

“I know,” Alec insisted but his voice indicated he was angry with himself for not being able to give Magnus what he wanted from him now. He wanted to be more verbal for him, he really did, but having grown up in Idris and being told his desires were wrong and sinful made it difficult.

“Hmm,” Magnus just said, not sure he did.

They lay side by side on the large bed for a few seconds until Alec felt uncomfortable, having never done this before, not sure what to do and now very much aware that while Magnus was dressed he was naked.

“Do you….” Alec didn’t know what to say or do so his voice died away.

Magnus raised an eyebrow at him but Alec didn’t continue. With a snap of his fingers he had them both cleaned up and his own clothes arranged. He looked at Alec more closely, seeing how drained he looked.

“Are you hungry, Nephilim?”

Alec had recovered enough to remember the rules again and nodded.

“Yes, Prince,” he said with more eagerness than he had wanted.

“When did you last eat?” Magnus asked with a raised eyebrow when he heard Alec’s stomach rumble.

Alec was thoughtful, thinking about his answer before he replied as he wanted to be as truthful as possible, “Maybe early yesterday, before the last battle when your army defeated us.”

Magnus did a wave of his hand and a plate of the food Alec had made appeared in front of him. Alec eyed it suspiciously and longingly, not sure if he were allowed to touch it.

“Go on,” Magnus encouraged, handing him a fork he had just conjured.

Alec took the fork so quickly Magnus barely registered it. He ate the food hastily, keeping an eye on Magnus to see if he would change his mind.

“Thank you,” Alec said with a grateful smile when he had emptied the plate.

With a wave of his hand Magnus made the dish and fork disappear back into the kitchen.

“Are you used to the food being taken away?” Magnus asked curiously, with a hint of amusement. He had never seen anyone eat that fast.

Alec thought about it; he had never used to eat quickly but thinking about it then he had learned over time to do so.

“It was something Valentine sometimes did; show food and then order it to remain untouched,” Alec explained, thinking back at those times with a dark tone. “Sometimes as punishment, sometimes as an endurance test.”

“The more I hear about the man the more I look forward to meeting him when we invade Alicante,” Magnus said darkly.

“That would indeed be interesting,” Alec agreed with an equally dark tone of voice.

Magnus was quiet for a few seconds before he sighed.

“Alexander, what you did here today…” his voice died away and he looked at Alec disapprovingly.

Alec blushed in embarrassment at having disappointed him, realizing that really mattered to him, lowering his gaze. “I am sorry, Prince.”

“I do believe that but you still did it,” Magnus said with frustration and residual anger. He paused before he added firmly, “It’s a level of defiance I can’t accept.”

Alec grimaced but nodded grimly in understanding. “Yes, Prince.”

“Alexander, if you can learn to surrender to me fully, as you were meant to do as per our agreement, you might find your time here pleasant. You might even learn to like it,” Magnus encouraged.

“Like being a slave, Prince?” Alec asked confused, puzzled.

“Alexander, you could become my most prized possession. If you were loyal to me, truly loyal, I could count on you for council,” Magnus explained, willing to expose this possibility to Alec to encourage his full surrender.

“You would take my council? Also in battle?” Alec asked hopefully but doubtful.

“If you were truly mine then why not? We both know you are an amazing general,” Magnus said matter of fact.

Alec couldn’t help but smile wishfully at those words. Was it possible? Was it possible he wouldn’t just be a piece of furniture or someone to use for sexual pleasure? Could he get that? Till he heard it said he hadn’t realized how much he had mourned the idea of never again being allowed to use his brain, test his abilities.

“I would like that opportunity very much, my Prince,” Alec admitted honestly, softly, almost hesitantly and Magnus smiled at that, knowing he would.

“Let’s see. You would need to prove you are mine first,” Magnus reminded him.

“I will,” Alec promised, nodding eagerly. He could do this. He had made a deal and he could fulfill it. He could let go now and give Magnus what he was due; his family was safe. It was time he truly fulfilled his end of the deal. 

“I can be merciful, Alexander,” Magnus said softly, keeping to his plan of replacing Alec’s bond with Jace with a bond with himself instead.

With a wave of his hand Alec felt his burned skin had faded and been cured and the cut that spelled out Magnus had healed, the name now spelled out in scars.

Alec sighed in relief as the pain disappeared, giving Magnus a warm smile.

“Thank you, Prince,” he said heartfelt, feeling warmth and affection for the Warlock flooding him like water.

“If I leave the wounds from tomorrow’s lashing to heal naturally, without the aid of iratze’s and magic, so they will leave scars on your skin would that help you remember never to do this again?” Magnus asked seriously.

Alec hesitated in his answer, unsure what to say, suddenly not sure what to feel or think. He still cared for Jace but was finding he didn't want to upset Magnus. More than that; he felt he wanted to please Magnus. He wanted him to praise him and say he was good. No one ever did that. He wanted Magnus to keep their deal and preferably he wanted his own life to be somewhat tolerable. He knew what he needed to do to get that; he needed to actually be able to let go. He wasn't a Shadowhunter anymore, he wasn't a general anymore. He had made a deal that his body and soul belonged to Magnus and he needed to show he could fulfil that deal. 

“He is my parabatai,” Alec acknowledged softly, not sure what that meant anymore.

His answer refueled Magnus’ anger and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Alexander, a man can have only one master. I think it’s about time you realized that from now on that man is me,” Magnus said with darkness in his voice as he moved swiftly, almost catlike, till he was pinning Alec to the bed, holding his arms above his head.

Alec wasn’t fighting him but just looked up at him with eyes dark with lust and just the slightest hint of fear, unsure what he meant but having a clear feeling this would leave him with that nice kind of hurt that meant he didn’t need to think or feel or act. He would just have to surrender and give in.

Alec had been right in his predictions; Magnus had shown him just what Warlock endurance was all about as he proceeded to fuck him three more times that evening, each time increasingly rougher, leaving red marks on Alec’s wrists and markings all over his body from where he had bit and sucked him. Alec hadn’t thought he would be able to orgasm each time but Magnus had managed to literally fuck him senseless, forcing his release from him, using magic to aid in that when he felt it was needed. For the last round he had been so spent and exhausted he had had to let Magnus do all the work, literally.

The next morning Alec could feel how tender he was and he was wincing when he sat down –or bent over – and had to walk very carefully. Magnus noticed and simply smirked at him. He would certainly not soon forget who he belonged to; he felt so spent, tender and sore he almost felt like he could still feel Magnus inside him. Weirdly the thought warmed him, like it made him feel less alone.

Around noon the following day Magnus delivered the lashes he had promised him in the courtyard, again making him count each one. He had used magic to ensure he would stay conscious for each stroke and Alec had expected nothing else; punishment wasn’t punishment if he couldn’t feel it and the level of disobedience he had shown…Magnus could not overlook that.

Ragnor had been present at the punishment among others and Magnus had had to ensure his old friend got the justice he deserved as Alec had lessened his own revenge over Jace.

The lashing wasn’t so bad; Valentine had hit a lot harder. Alec almost felt like Magnus was being gentle in his strokes, as contradictory as that might sound. Furthermore, as Alec had expected and hoped Magnus had carried out the punishment professionally; not adding any humiliation or degradation to it. Alec was profoundly happy for that.

Magnus had followed through with his threat and had ordered his back heal the mundane way so right after the punishment a female Warlock, Catarina, had cleaned him and bandaged him and given him some pain medication.

The pain medication had been Mundane stuff; she had given him an IV drip and had handed him pills to take in the coming days that contained the same Mundane pain medication. She had called the drugs he was getting opioids and had explained he couldn't take too much of it. He had been unsure why not. As soon as the Mundane drugs had entered his body through the IV drip he had felt amazing; his brain fluffy and floaty and he had smiled for no reason. The pain was still there but it was as if he just didn’t care. In fact, the drugs help him not care about anything, all his worries gone. Seeing his reaction she had told him he was lucky; the drugs would not only lessen his pain but make these first few days transitioning from being a Shadowhunter general to belonging completely to Magnus Bane easier.

Despite the clear hatred for Shadowhunters he could feel coming off Catarina in waves she had been professional and considerate in her care; Downworlders would not get such care in Idris by a long shot. After the IV drip with the drugs and fluids had finished and she had finished cleaning and bandaging him, he had again been dismissed to Magnus’ private quarters.

He had been so exhausted he had fallen asleep on the soft rug under Magnus' desk, barely inches from where he had stood when the guards had taken him back to the study after Catarina had released him from her care. When he awoke a few hours later his body was aching, the wounds with the carved words on his arm itchy but he was pleasantly surprised at how little pain he registered from his abused back; Catarina was a great healer and those Mundane drugs were awesome. Besides, no one lived under Valentine’s roof without learning to withstand pain. This pain was manageable, and even better then the drugs made him just not care or even much register the pain. It came as a pleasant surprise to him when compared to Valentine’s punishments which had often left him in pure agony for days.

When Magnus came to pick up something from his study and called for him Alec came to him at once and dropped to his knees in front of him, keeping his head bowed and his hands in his lap. He didn’t want Magnus to feel he needed to repeat the lesson regarding who he belonged to. He doubted he would be able to take another round right now; he was still aching and in slight pain from the rough treatment he had taken from the lesson last night.

“Have you learned your lesson, Nephilim?” Magnus asked, looking down at him with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, Prince,” Alec insisted, nodding his head to emphasize his point, keeping his voice soft and pleasing, his eyes on his hands in his lap. 

“What have you learned?” Magnus asked, his voice soft now as he stroked his hair almost tenderly.

“I belong to you, only you,” Alec said, leaning into the touch, enjoying the gentleness and realized he wanted more of that from Magnus. He wanted him to praise him; to think he was good. The drugs helped him give into these feelings and made his words come easily, knowing what Magnus wanted to hear and being able to say it. The drugs made everything fuzzy and nice. His worries seemed far away. This was...nice. He liked feeling like this. He was suddenly very happy Catarina had left him pills for the coming days too. She had been right; it did made it easier to do this, to transition from what he was to whom he had to become. It made everything easier. He would properly thank her for that …someday.

“And what part of you belongs to me?” Magnus asked possessively and his grip in his hair became bruising as he fisted his hair and forced his head backwards and up so he could look at him.

“All parts of me, Prince,” Alec said truthfully, meaning it, feeling it, looking up at Magnus and saw the pleasure at his answer and the begining lust in his eyes. The drugs in his system made him smile at seeing that; he was doing it and he felt no shame and no hesitation. He could do this; suddenly he felt certain he could.  

“My soul, my body….my pleasure and my pain are yours and only yours to command,” Alec continued gravely, his voice clear and echoing in the room, knowing it to be true, feeling it to be true and finding that truth weirdly calming.

Magnus smiled at hearing that. He could see Alec’s surrender in his eyes, in his face, in the way he was kneeling. He had been right; he could not destroy Alec’s bond with Jace but he could replace it.

“Good little angel,” Magnus praised and released his grip on his hair and instead went back to stroking him softly.

Alec almost purred in pleasure; he had done something right. He smiled happily, contently, his drug-hazed mind making the surrender to the simple pleasure of knowing he had saved his deal, he had done right by everyone, easy.

“I will be back later. Feel free to wander and you can take food in the kitchen, there should also be some coffee, and read any book but you are to remain within my chambers,” Magnus ordered, putting an edge of warning and command to the words though he had a growing feeling he barely needed to.

“Yes, Prince,” Alec acknowledged at once, his eyes showing his eagerness to please, to get this right. He tried to add this show of softness and submission to his body language and smiled when he saw in Magnus' eyes he had gotten it right. 

Magnus smiled in satisfaction as he exited the study, certain Alec had learned a lesson and even better; that he was finally truly his as he had meant to be when they had made their deal.

Alec remained on his knees till Magnus had left and a few minutes after that. Then he got up with a small sigh; he really had made a mess of things but it seemed like he had managed to make amends. He wondered if Jace was ok now, if Izzy was. He hoped Andrew was ok with Lorenzo; maybe the Warlock would be kind to him; after all Andrew knew well how to please someone sexually and he knew how to kneel. He hoped he was ok. Alicante would likely fall any day now; he prayed Max would be safe also.

Strongly aided by the drugs in his system Alec's concerns for his family soon faded and instead he focused on his own situation. He was starting to slowly get a feeling for what was expected of him in his new situation and was also starting to understand that if he managed to do this right it might not be that bad for him. As Magnus had showed him; he could be merciful. He just had to get this right. Therefore, he felt a growing concern for whether Magnus was happy with him and felt a growing need to please him. He was wondering what would satisfy him and what might ensure he would praise him when he returned. Catarina had been right; the drugs really did help make the transition easier; he could think about how to do his new role right, how to truly let go and give in, without mourning what he was leaving behind but instead focusing on moving ahead. 

Alec began making food and started doing small chores around the house – useless stuff that calmed him like colour coordinating Magnus’ clothes and sorting the books in his library. It made him worry less and the drugs helped him focus only on these tasks and nothing else. As he went around doing tasks he found he was looking forward to Magnus returning. A part of him had loved how Magnus had literally fucked him into oblivion despite the slight pain and ache he was feeling today or maybe because of it. It had left him unable to move, unable to think and therefore unable to worry about anything else than what Magnus wanted or liked. It was simple and easy and calming. Instead of having to worry about what Magnus wanted from him in his new role and life he could just let go and know that if he did what Magnus said he was already doing what he had promised Magnus; giving the Warlock Prince command of his body and soul.

Having finished his various small house projects Alec started to read a book from the library, choosing to sit on the floor, on the soft carpet by Magnus’s desk just to be on the safe side as he was unsure if he could sit on the furniture, a cup of coffee from the kitchen beside him when suddenly he spotted a large ginger cat. The cat was purring and coming closer to Alec, rubbing against his legs. Within a few moments the cat was sleeping in Alec’s lap and he was stroking it lovingly. He had always wanted pets, in particular a cat, but had never taken any of the stray cats he had fed in Alicante home to his parents, fearing they would use his love for the small creatures against him. Magnus really was different if he had a creature as loving as this cat.

When Magnus finally returned to the study Alec was already kneeling before he was even fully through the door. When Magnus looked at the kneeling Nephilim and took a hand under his chin, turning his head up to look at him Alec smiled happily up at him. Alec’s body was soft and compliant under his touch, his gaze submissive, slightly cloudy from the drugs in his system but holding an eagerness to please, to fulfil his end of their deal, making Magnus instinctively smile back in return. Alec was finally truly his and Magnus suddenly felt he had never before been given such an amazing gift as this man’s surrender.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Caring for broken things

“Give me something I can believe. Don't tear me down. You've opened the door now; don't let it close.” ( All I Need, Within Temptation)

Andrew slowly awoke by someone touching his hair, stroking it in fact. As his senses returned more fully he became aware he was laying on something warm yet firm. He instinctively tensed and a moment of fear overcame him; where was he? What was this person going to do to him? He lifted his head from the muscled golden chest, making the stroking of his hair stop and looked right into Lorenzo’s gaze, his expression relaxed and his eyes kind but strong. When Lorenzo smiled Andrew hesitantly smiled back, forcing his body to relax. It was odd waking up in a bed with someone else there. He had never done that. Either he had been alone in his room or they had had him sleep on the floor if they didn’t want to him to leave.

He was confused about what had happened last night, confused to wake up like this. He had never experienced anything like this before. He had never….liked the sex before. Sometimes his body had reacted but he had never liked it. Sometimes the Shadowhunters had forced him to say he did, that he wanted it. He had never felt it. Not before last night. He had been able to forget his fears and his life for a moment and let go. It was scary but…a nice kind of scary. He hadn’t known there could be such a thing as a nice scared.

He eyed Lorenzo nervously as he tried to figure out what he wanted, how to please him. He had been good to him yesterday. Why? He didn’t recall having done anything in particular. He would have to be extra careful, not make any mistakes. He didn’t want to ruin this.

“Good morning, pet,” Lorenzo said warmly, his brown eyes awake and intelligent, evaluating his reactions when he closed his arms around his waist.

Though Lorenzo now knew Andrew was innocent the sight of his runed body as he awoke had still brought an instinctive fearful reaction; a leftover from the camps. In the camps it was all about sleeping as little as possible; always be on your guard. Waking up to a runed body nearby often meant you took a brutal beating either for not working, to get chased to work or just because they were bored and needed entertainment.

When Lorenzo had remembered where he was and the Nephilim in his arms, he had relaxed and instead smiled. Here he had a runed Angel so willingly at his feet and even one he could allow himself to feel something towards, something else than hatred and revenge, without feeling like he was betraying his people by doing so.

“Morning,” Andrew answered shyly, uncertain of what was expected of him, looking down and blushing when he became aware he had been looking at Lorenzo to try and judge from his face what he wanted him to do. Damn it! He knew better than that! He would surely be punished now.

“Sir, I am so sorry,” Andrew said softy, fighting down his rising fear and panic and putting as much softness and submission as he could into his voice.

Andrew pulled back and away from Lorenzo’s body and sat up on his knees on the bed with his legs under him and his hands folded in his lap, his eyes firmly downcast.

Lorenzo frowned in confusion and pushed himself up to a sitting position, looking at Andrew. He was kneeling, he realized. He had taken a kneeling position in bed.

“Why are you sorry, pet?” Lorenzo questioned, keeping his voice soft. He considered reaching for him but decided against it when he noticed Andrew’s hands in his lap were shaking ever so slightly, his knuckles white from squeezing them so tightly together.

“I….I looked at you, Sir, and I know it is forbidden. I am sorry, Sir,” he said in a small voice and despite his best efforts it was trembling ever so slightly.

“Pet, you can look at me. When we are here alone like this then it’s always ok. If that should change or I want it differently for a certain activity I will tell you,” Lorenzo reassured him, tipping his face up to look into his eyes with a finger under his chin.

It took a second or two for Andrew to be able to look at Lorenzo, fearing it was a trick and as soon as he did, he would be punished. He knew that game well.

“I….as you wish, Sir,” Andrew agreed softly, confused, and Lorenzo removed his hand from his face with a satisfied look at his reply.

Lorenzo’s hazel eyes held such depth, so many different emotions. It made Andrew a bit uneasy, not sure how to interpret it. He could recognize anger and desire, pain and hatred. He wasn’t sure about what he saw now. There was a hint of something in Lorenzo’s eyes he had only ever seen in Alec’s and that fact was very confusing.

“Why are you still tense?” Lorenzo asked with a frown when he noticed fear was starting to come off Andrew in waves. He had just told him that rule didn’t apply in bed unless he ordered otherwise. That should have resolved it.

“Am…Am I not to be punished, Sir?” Andrew asked in a small voice, his eyes wide and huge.

“Why would I punish you?” Lorenzo asked confused, a hint of annoyance entering his tone.

“Because…I broke a rule, Sir,” Andrew said softly, now very puzzled. Was this a game? A trick?

Lorenzo shook his head and couldn’t help but wonder what very horrible things Andrew had clearly experienced.

“I just told you the rule is not in effect here. No rule means no rule was broken which means no disobedience is possible which means no punishment,” Lorenzo explained as simply as if to a child.

Lorenzo frowned as he asked, “Did they do that to you? In Alicante? Punish you for rules you were unsure of whether were in effect or not and claim it was disobedience if they were broken?”

Andrew nodded, a bit unsure why they were having this conversation but determined not to do anything else wrong so he tried to give as precise and truthful replies as possible.

“Disobedience was always punished very severely, Sir,” he explained, his voice shaking slightly as he forced himself not to recall some of the punishments he had had to endure.

“They did this to you often?” Lorenzo asked in disbelief and puzzlement. “Was this normal in Idris?”

Lorenzo didn’t know much about Shadowhunters, their history, culture and customs. He knew they had angel blood and that fact had brought on the arrogance and superiority that had led to the fall of the Clave and the rise of the Circle. They had for ages before Valentine rose to power conveniently forgotten that they also had Mundane blood in their veins.

He hadn’t cared about them before the war; arrogant and annoying beings who were a headache to deal with. Most of what he knew was from the camps and the Shadowhunters there had been racist, vindictive and cruel. Actually, amend that; they had been creatively cruel. Manipulatively cruel.

He had never before met a vulnerable Shadowhunter; someone soft and pliant who awoke all of his protective and possessive Warlock instincts. He was certain only one such Shadowhunter could exist and he was sitting on his bed.

“Corporal punishment has always been normal for Shadowhunters from childhood,” Andrew explained. “Shadowhunters are raised to become warriors from birth.”

Lorenzo noticed Andrew didn’t say ‘we’ but then recalled what he had told him about what being a ward meant; a Shadowhunter who was not considered a Shadowhunter by the others. From the sound of it also someone hated and despised even more than Downworlders for having angel blood and yet allowing himself to fall. Lorenzo had to fight to control his magic as pure rage flared through him. He had had good reason to want to wipe Alicante off the map before. He had even greater reason now.

“I got punished often as I often did things wrong and then…” he admitted in a small voice and then paused. He didn’t want to admit to Lorenzo just how bad he was, wanting him to keep thinking he was good and obedient and worth being kind to but he had to be truthful; anything less would just entitle punishment. He therefore added softly, “I am wrong.”

“So far I haven’t seen you do anything that would warrant punishment,” Lorenzo assured him with a smile.

In fact quite the opposite. Andrew had an instinctive submission that couldn’t be acted or forced. He wanted to please and do well. Lorenzo could not imagine Andrew ever disobeying if the rule had been explained to him.

“You’re wrong?” Lorenzo echoed, thinking about what Andrew’s last words might mean.

Andrew had heard it so often, said it so often, the embarrassment no longer stuck. It was just a fact by now.

“I’m….gay.”

“Yes, we established that,” Lorenzo said with warmth, a hint of humor and anger at knowing how homophobic Idris had been. “And I hope one day to prove to you that nothing you desire makes you wrong; gay or not.”

“How old were you when you were discovered to be gay and they made you….what was the term? A ward?” Lorenzo asked, trying to get a better insight into his life.

“I was 12. I was with Alec at the time. I kissed him; I never meant to damn him with me like this,” Andrew said with self-hatred and heart-shattering pain and guilt, his voice low and his eyes clouded by emotions.

“I was allowed to live at the Institute as a ward to show the young Shadowhunters how someone like me should be treated and what would happen if they ever did like me. Alec was given to Jace as his parabatai and was taken to live in Valentine’s mansion,” Andrew finished explaining, forcing himself not to think about it.

Andrew had long ago learned thinking about what ifs and remembering the past, a time when he had been a Shadowhunter and had had the rights to his own body and mind, his feelings and his needs…it was best not to remember and thus he no longer did. As Andrew had long ago told Alec; they had broken him. There was little left of that shy Shadowhunter boy he had once been.

“So he got rewarded and you got punished?” Lorenzo said with anger and confusion. That sounded unusual.

“Alec is a Lightwood; his parents made a deal to avoid the scandal which would have made them lose everything. Instead, they came to an agreement with Valentine. Parabatai share their souls. Before I was a ward I had dreamed of having such a bond. It can be glorious,” Andrew said, a hint of forgotten and childish wistfulness in his voice.

“Seems I should warn my Prince then,” Lorenzo said thoughtfully, an edge of steel in his voice. “If Alec shares the soul of Valentine’s son, the Deathbringer…that can’t be good.”

“He is not a danger to the Prince, Sir,” Andrew quickly reassured him. “The Bond only means he will always lean towards loyalty to Jace but not that the Bond controls him.” He paused before he added, “It was also a way for Valentine to ensure his son obeyed as emotions are shared through the Bond so whenever he tortured Alec, Jace would feel it too.”

“Why didn’t he just do it to Jace directly?” Lorenzo asked, shaking his head at the weird mind games Shadowhunters seemed to love to play.

The guards had also loved playing games at the camp; promising if a prisoner did something, they would not be harmed or might even get a reward, which was often food. However, frequently it was a cruel trick. The reward would be a beating, experiments…sometimes death. Giving hope and taking it away again was a favorite game of theirs.

“Rumor had it he did when Jace was younger but physically punishing his own son and a key member of his army as he got older would weaken his powerbase and the loyalty of his men,” Andrew explained matter of fact.

Knowing Valentine Andrew was certain Jace had not been spared his cruelty. However, considering he had tortured Alec multiple times and even he himself had felt his flair for torture, skillfully learned under his father…it was just no longer possible for Andrew to feel any sympathy for him. It was not so much for himself but because he had seen the wounds left behind on Alec first hand and that he could never forgive. Alec had been his only light; his only comfort….the only reason he hadn’t killed himself. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, he would not do for Alec.

“Hmm…I can see that,” Lorenzo admitted.

“Sir….did you ask because you want to know how I have previously been punished for disobedience?” Andrew asked softly, fighting down his rising fear and panic.

Andrew thought he now understood why he was being asked these questions. Lorenzo wanted ideas, inspiration, for how to punish him. He had met Shadowhunters who had done that too; made him explain what others had done to him so they could do the same – or often worse.

“Not specifically, but I would like to know,” Lorenzo said matter of fact.

“It depended on what I had done. It was often a beating that left me in bed for days or sex that ended the same way. I preferred the first. The latter only got easier with time when I stopped feeling the humiliation they wanted me to feel together with the pain,” Andrew explained honestly, softly, his eyes clouded with remembered pain and his hands shaking again but he managed to say it and hoped Lorenzo would consider his honestly in his punishment and choose kinder because of it.

“Pet, I want you to stop referring to anything sexual you have done before you met me as sex. It wasn’t sex. Understand?” Lorenzo said seriously, fighting his anger at hearing what people in Idris apparently considered ok to dish out as punishment.

Andrew nodded dutifully but seemed very confused. If it hadn’t been sex what had it been? “As you wish, Sir.”

Lorenzo nodded approval of that before he continued, “Now, I am not sure we define disobedience the same way. What you did now, accidentally looking me in the eyes while we are in bed together…. Would that count?”

“Of course, Sir,” Andrew confirmed, unsure what kind of game this now was. It was a confusing game.

Lorenzo shook his head and his voice was strong and firm as he said, “Well, it doesn’t count. That’s not disobedience, little one.”

“I….” Andrew was confused now. “So….you are really not going to punish me?” he asked hopefully.

“Pet, if you actually do disobey me then I will act accordingly but the punishment would fit the crime. What you describe is not correct; it is not the Downworlder way,” Lorenzo explained, trying to make him understand but not sure he was.

Seeing Andrew didn’t seem convinced by what he had said, Lorenzo tried something else he felt more certain Andrew would understand.

In a firm and strong voice Lorenzo said, “You haven’t disobeyed and that is my final words on this matter and the matter is hereafter closed.”

“I….Thank you, Sir,” Andrew said meekly, barely daring to believe it but it was clearly an order so he had to believe it. His body started to relax again and he could breathe easily once more.

Lorenzo was surely the most unusual person he had ever been given to but he was finding he really liked this weirdness a lot.

“Now, enough of that,” Lorenzo said with a dismissive hand gesture. “Come kiss me good morning,” he ordered but his tone was kind.

Andrew obeyed at once, eagerly melting into Lorenzo’s embrace, certain he had never had anyone order him about so kindly before.

Andrew put his arms around Lorenzo’s neck and the Warlock pulled him down and into a hard and possessive kiss with one hand on the back of his neck and the other around his waist. Andrew parted his lips and Lorenzo’s tongue easily conquered his mouth. The kiss ended when Lorenzo let go of his neck and Andrew drew a little back, looking at him almost shyly. They were both breathing unevenly and Andrew was surprised to discover he was hard. That had never happened before like this.

Feeling shy about his erection, unsure if he was supposed to react like this, Andrew moved his leg as a way to deal with his nervousness and accidently brushed against Lorenzo’s morning wood. Blushing, uncertain, he instinctively pulled his leg back to lay flat beside the Warlock’s body. He looked at Lorenzo questioning, unsure if he should do something about it.

“Do you want to do something about that, little one?” Lorenzo asked with a mixture of kindness and hunger in his voice and eyes, answering Andrew’s silent question.

Lorenzo had used sex and alcohol as his own ways to deal with his memories of the camps; he saw no reason why Andrew wouldn’t be able to benefit from the sex part too. Not only would the release of endorphins be good for him but he also felt the sex would help strengthen their relationship, the bond between them.

Andrew hesitated, considering it. Was this another game? Should he be honest or give a specific answer?

Did he want to? He didn’t know. He wasn’t used to being asked; not about this or anything else. Lorenzo simply looked at him, patiently waiting, one hand still lying softly against the small of Andrew’s back. Seeing this Andrew resolutely nodded. He already knew what Lorenzo liked in a blowjob; he could make this good and he wanted that. He suddenly realized he wanted that not only because he wanted Lorenzo to keep treating him kindly, nor just because he feared failing or being punished, but also because he really wanted to hear Lorenzo praise him again. It was almost as if Lorenzo’s praise yesterday had unlocked something in him and he now found he really wanted to hear it again, wanted, almost needed, it. He couldn’t remember when last someone had praised him. If he had been lucky people had spoken about him like an object, maybe even with a hint of pity at best. He could not recall having ever been praised. Logically he must have, back before he was a ward, but he no longer recalled that time. Alec had been kind to him but that kindness and love had been different from this.

Mind made up Andrew looked at Lorenzo, blushing slightly as he nodded. He normally never blushed during sex; he was so use to it. Now, with Lorenzo he did. Maybe because for the first time he had actually been asked and therefore actively had to reflect on that answer and more surprising was the fact that the answer was yes.

“Words, angel, remember?” Lorenzo rebuked, his voice still soft but it held an edge of steel.

“Please, I want to,” Andrew said softly, looking at him bashfully, obeying at once.

He was about to put his hands on Lorenzo’s chest to touch his way all the way down but hesitated before he touched him, uncertain if he should, if he could, if it was allowed.

“When we are alone you are always free to touch me anywhere, anyhow, you wish,” Lorenzo reassured him, seeing his hesitation and Andrew instantly relaxed.

Then Lorenzo winked seductively; wanting to get the sexy mood back, “In fact…I would very much appreciate it.”

Andrew smiled at that and started to touch his chest ever so softly and gently. He traced the scars there, following one after another until his fingers almost touched Lorenzo’s Circle brand. He looked at him, unsure if he could touch it.

“It’s ok,” Lorenzo said, nodding, but Andrew noticed he had gone tense, his hands by his sides forming fists.

There was definitely pain now in Lorenzo’s eyes and a hint of…fear? Andrew traced the Circle brand so gently as if his touch could make it break. Lorenzo took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. Looking into Lorenzo’s eyes Andrew bent down and planted a soft feather light kiss to the Circle brand, making Lorenzo draw a sharp breath. When Andrew drew back Lorenzo’s eyes were misty but he blinked it away.

“I recognize some of these scars. They are on my body too,” Andrew said softly, looking down at the scars instead of into the Warlock’ eyes.

Andrew hesitated, unsure of where the boundaries were at this moment between them but then said softly, honestly, “You wear them well.”

“I won’t ever give in to my fear; I never have,” Lorenzo said honestly, strength and power back in his voice as he had managed to banish the ghosts of the past once more.

He had never talked with anyone in detail about this other than Catarina; he had never allowed himself to be this open. However, with Andrew he could because the very essence of their relationship was such that he was no threat to him in any way.

Lorenzo chased the remaining shadows away with a wry smile as he said, “I am too prideful to be fearful for myself. Besides, I’m proud of all my scars.”

“You should be. They are evidence you survived,” Andrew said just as honestly, admiration in his voice. He didn’t think anyone survived the camps; at least that was what he had overheard the soldiers claim.

Andrew hesitated but then asked, “Why do you cover the Circle brand?”

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened. “I might be proud of my scars but I refuse to showcase that butcher’s symbol on my body as branded cattle!”

Andrew nodded; he could certainly understand that.

Lorenzo gently stroked Andrew’s right arm, his fingers tracing the scars he had there. “You should be proud of your scars too.”

Andrew blushed, looking down, surprised and taken back by the sympathy in Lorenzo’s gaze.

“Why?” Andrew asked, looking at him again. “You never asked for this. You were captured and imprisoned. I wasn’t.”

Lorenzo shook his head as he said strongly, “You never asked for this either and from what you tell me you were as much a prisoner as I ever was.”

Lorenzo paused before he added, his voice even, just stating a fact as he saw it, “Your scars are a badge of honor.”

Andrew blushed again, smiled a little but not believing him.

“Thank you,” Andrew mumbled shyly.

“You are beautiful. One day I will make you believe it,” Lorenzo promised and the true desire to do so reflecting in his eyes took Andrew’s breath away.

Overcome with a need to show Lorenzo how much his words, his praise, meant to him he saddled the Warlock, looking up at his face to see if he was ok with this. Lorenzo simply smirked, smiling contently and nodding for him to continue.

Andrew kissed and licked his way down his body until he reached his quickly hardening cock. He moved further down the bed to kneel more comfortably between his legs, Lorenzo moving to give him space. Andrew took a grip of the base of Lorenzo’s cock and gently sucked at the tip, making Lorenzo fight to conceal a moan. Andrew kept sucking and licking, but didn’t go further than taking the tip into his mouth.

“That’s enough teasing, angel,” Lorenzo warned impatiently, wanting to get lost, to lose control, to forget the conversation they had just had and the dark memories it threatened to force him to relive.

Andrew pulled off him, seeing in Lorenzo’s eyes his desire to forget himself in this, knowing well that was what he needed. He took Lorenzo’s hands and placed them on his cheeks. Lorenzo gave him a questioning look.

“Show me how you like it then,” Andrew said softly, locking eyes with him.

“Are you sure?” Lorenzo checked.

Lorenzo hadn’t know what he did now when he had made the deal with Andrew to suck him off to help Alec when they had first met. Though Andrew had offered it then as he did now he wanted to check, just to be certain.

Andrew nodded; he had had much rougher blowjobs than Lorenzo so he was almost a bit amused by the question. “Yes.”

“Tap my leg if you want me to stop. I mean it,” Lorenzo ordered, his tone sharp and demanding obedience.

“As you wish, Sir,” Andrew readily agreed, trying to hide his surprise. No one had ever ordered him to do that before. It made him feel…powerful again, like he had when he had done this before.

Seeing they had an understanding, Lorenzo put his hands on Andrew’s face as he slowly went down on him again. He stopped moving downwards and waited until Lorenzo guided him, pulling him slowly further and further down until his cock was buried so deep inside his mouth he was hitting the back of his throat and then went even deeper.

“Fuck!” Lorenzo hissed, looking at Andrew in amazement as he stayed down breathing evenly through his nose, his hands on Lorenzo’s thighs. He didn’t seem bothered by taking him so deep and the feeling was amazing.

Andrew was grateful this was by far not the first time he had done this; he had developed very good control of his gag reflex and thus he simply waited, licking Lorenzo now and then, enjoying the moans the Warlock couldn’t quite contain. Hearing that…it made him feel great and in control even, though he was the one with a cock down his throat.

After keeping him down for a moment Lorenzo let go of his face and Andrew pulled off, taking a deep breath, spit running out of the corners of mouth, his eyes watery as they were searching for something as he looked at Lorenzo questioning.

“You are perfect. Your mouth feels like Heaven,” Lorenzo praised, his breath coming in quick gasps, his eyes filled with desire and lust.

The praise made Andrew smile as he just then realized that was what he had wanted, needed, to hear. He kept eye contact as he held around the base of Lorenzo’s cock with one hand before going all the way down again, drawing another moan of pleasure from the Warlock. He started up a quick rhythm, using his lips and tongue, moving quickly up and then all the way down. Lorenzo fisted his hair, helping to make him go faster and deeper each time he went down.

“I…I’m close,” Lorenzo warned just as his fist in Andrew’s hair tightened and he pushed him down again.

Lorenzo eyed him carefully for signs he wanted to be let up but Andrew just kept sucking him as he went down again, tears now on his cheeks but an almost dazed look on his face, contentment in his eyes. Andrew started to hum softly against his cock in pleasure as he sucked, his eyes half-closed as his only focus was Lorenzo, doing this for him.

Seeing Andrew enjoy sucking his cock made Lorenzo come with a yell, instinctively bucking upwards as he came down his throat. Feeling high on endorphins, content, boneless and spent, Lorenzo released his hold on Andrew and fell more fully back on the bed.

Andrew had long ago learned how to swallow like this. Having been taught, painfully, how to do this ‘properly’ he licked any escaping come from his lips before he bent down to clean Lorenzo, pulling back just before the Warlock felt too sensitive and the sensations would have gone from pleasurable to painful.

Andrew looked up at Lorenzo then and saw his dazed expression and the look of awe reflected in his eyes. Despite his throat feeling hoarse and abused, lips red, swollen and raw, the sight of the Warlock made him want to smile at the power and the gift he had been able to give.

However, the deed now done Andrew was uncertain what to do. Should he go to the floor now? Leave the bedroom? What was expected of him? Kneeling had literally been beaten into him and was instinctive to him now so he ‘knelt’ next to Lorenzo’s body on the bed, his hands in his lap. The submissive position had always earned him the least punishment so it was his go to answer for anything if he was in doubt.

“Come here,” Lorenzo ordered gruffly as he saw how worried Andrew was about what was expected of him now that his immediate usefulness was gone.

Relieved for the order Andrew moved up to lie on Lorenzo’s chest and the Warlock closed his arms around him. Andrew sighed contently as he felt strong arms close around him; he felt oddly…safe, like this. He could not recall having ever felt safe with anyone else except Alec.

“You really are perfect,” Lorenzo mumbled as he stroked his hair, occasionally tightening his arms around him as his possessiveness flared.

“Thank you,” Andrew mumbled with a smile, enjoying the praise like a cat loved sunlight.

They lay like that for a few moments before Andrew’s stomach made a noise, making him embarrassed and feverishly he hoped Lorenzo hadn’t noticed. However, if he hadn’t noticed the noise he would have noticed Andrew going stiff in his arms in fear he had done something wrong. He had before, back in Alicante, sometimes been punished for things like this. He remembered one morning in particular when he had awoken the Nephilim soldier who had been having him for the night with his stomach making noises early in the morning; the soldier had beaten him within an inch of his life with his belt for disrupting his sleep.

Lorenzo gently pushed Andrew off him and Andrew moved at once so he was lying next to him, looking at him with wide eyes, uncertain and worried again. Would he be punished now?

Lorenzo smiled reassuringly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose.

“Come, let’s have breakfast. I have something I want to talk with you about,” Lorenzo said and reached a hand out to him.

A bit hesitantly, Andrew moved closer and took the offered hand. Lorenzo pulled him to his feet by his side of the bed.

“Yes, of course, Sir,” Andrew readily agreed but then he worried what the Warlock would want to say. He didn’t think he had made any mistakes but maybe he had? It was always hard to tell…

Andrew was surprised when Lorenzo gently dragged him with him into his own large bathroom. The bathroom had both a large tub and a shower with two showerheads. Lorenzo pointed to one and took the other. Hesitantly, thinking maybe it was a trick Andrew turned on the water and stepped in. The water felt heavenly; he hadn’t had a real shower in a while. He couldn’t recall when it had been last; likely at the New York Institute during the stand there. He recalled Alec had insisted he had a shower when they had first gotten there and had also insisted they showered together to protect him. Alec often did that even though it would mean nasty remarks were thrown at them; some did it just as a standard reaction to anyone treating Andrew with anything resembling kindness as they would accuse those people of being gay themselves or just gay lovers which they would consider equally bad and sometimes even worse. Others did it because they knew of the deal Alec’s parents had made even though it had not been made public; rumors had spread about it but no one knew with certainty and no one dared attack Alec without permission from Jace.

He was about to turn off the water when Lorenzo pointed out there was soap by his shower as well. He had rarely had soap for his showers. The soap smelled amazing and after the shower, wrapped in a big fluffy towel Andrew was certain this was his best day in….well, in more years than he cared to remember. However, Lorenzo continued to surprise him when he conjured up some toilet products – toothbrush, deodorant, comb and Eau de Toilette - and clean clothes for him as well.

After getting ready Andrew felt nervous and unsettled again, not knowing what to do with himself and had a need, a desire to kneel once more. It was his go to thing to do; it helped him feel centered and calm. It was a safe option, a safe position. Whenever he had been in doubt in Idris about what to do, he had dropped to his knees and it had often helped. Not always of course but it often managed to take the edge of, the blunt of whatever was about to happen to him.

Lorenzo seemed to sense his worry because he ordered him to follow him as he left the bathroom which calmed Andrew a little; orders he could do, those were familiar and safe. Everything about Lorenzo was strange and he needed something he could hold on to which was familiar.

After going back downstairs, they entered a beautiful dining room with a round mahogany table and four chairs; the whole seating arrangement looked like an antique from the 1850s or there about. The room had a large floor to ceiling oval window to a beautiful manicured garden, paintings on the walls and various cupboards and other decorative objects by the walls. There was a door, likely to a kitchen and another door to what looked like a living room from what Andrew could see from his angle.

Lorenzo stopped in front of the table and waved a hand and food, glasses, two plates and cutlery appear on it. There was coffee and tea, three different juices, all types of bread, some sweat and some not. However, the table setting didn’t betray where he wanted Andrew to sit as the plates were stabled at the side of the table. Lorenzo went to sit on a chair by the table, making Andrew uncertain what he expected of him and he worriedly bit his lower lip before remembering what Lorenzo had told him and quickly stopped, looking down in embarrassment.

“Come, sit,” Lorenzo ordered with a smile, indicating the chair next to him.

Andrew had done so well and obeyed all rules so he had no reason to teach him a lesson by keeping him on his knees. They were alone so no need to keep up appearances; they could do as they pleased and Lorenzo had learned already that Andrew clearly did not need any reminders of what he was allowed or not allowed to do. He seemed to assume it was a ‘not allowed’ and go from there, which was a safe approach and ensured he was well within the required rules.

Andrew paled, sweating, starting to hyperventilate. He was not allowed to sit on chairs! However…he couldn’t disobey either! He didn’t know what to do!

“Sir…I….I….can’t,” Andrew got out, fighting to breathe, fighting to speak.

He couldn’t sit on a chair. He wasn’t allowed; he would be punished. He hadn’t sat on a chair, by a table, in years, not since…since it had happened. They had drilled this lesson into him painfully and repeatedly until he had learned. He couldn’t….he was visibly shaking, his hands forming fists at his side, his eyes huge and panicked, his breath coming in deep gasps.

Lorenzo looked at him with worried eyes. He rose and came over to him and Andrew instantly went to his knees before him, folding his hands in his lap, his head bowed. He felt a little better now, sitting like this. Maybe he wouldn’t be punished so severely now for disobeying….

“I am sorry, little one. I didn’t consider that,” Lorenzo said softly, stroking his hair gently to get him to calm down.

He had clearly not been allowed such freedoms and Lorenzo would have to consider that moving forward. He would not be doing Andrew any favors by having him panic like this.

Andrew was certain he had heard him wrong; no one except Alec had said the word sorry to him for as long as he could remember. Slowly, when Lorenzo simply remained standing, stroking his hair softly, Andrew’s breathing returned to normal. Lorenzo took a hand under his chin and tipped his face up so he could look at him. He saw the worry and fear on his face and smiled down at him, wanting to ease his concerns.

“No chairs from now on, ok? I promise,” he said and Andrew breathed a bit easier but was still looking worried. “In fact, let's just get rid of them, okay?” he added and waved his hand and magically all chairs except one around the table disappeared.

“Let’s try this again,” Lorenzo said gently and released him to return to his seat by the table.

“Now, come, sit here by my side, mi hermoso nefilim [my beautiful Nephilim],” Lorenzo ordered softly, pointing to the spot next to his chair.

Relieved at the clear order Andrew stood and went over to him before gracefully dropping to his knees beside Lorenzo’s chair. He felt tense and uncertain, afraid the chair issue was still looming and not knowing how to deal with it. However, as soon as Lorenzo started to stroke his hair gently he instantly relaxed and felt he had taken the right decision and that everything was ok now. Noticing how Andrew’s knees touched the marble floor Lorenzo made a hand movement and conjured up a soft pillow with silk covering.

“Here, pet,” Lorenzo handed Andrew the pillow who looked puzzled at it as he took it.

“For your knees,” he elaborated, mystified as to why he had to explain it but then realized Andrew was likely not used to anyone considering his comfort.

“Thank you,” Andrew said softly, blushing, feeling overwhelmed.

No one had done that for him as long back as he could recall. Not since before…No, he had never before felt so taken care of. Sitting on the pillow now, Lorenzo stroking his hair ever so often….he almost felt like purring.

“Here, little one. You should keep up your strength,” Lorenzo said fondly as he handed him a croissant, which Andrew took with trembling hands.

He couldn’t recall the last time he had been offered such fine food. He had normally been given whatever no one else wanted and mostly just plain bread; the chefs at the Institute in Alicante hadn’t been great cooks to begin with, and hadn’t bothered with preparing anything much for the resident verbal and physical punching bag.

“Thank you,” Andrew got out, a lump in his throat, tears in his eyes.

For a moment Andrew didn’t want to eat the croissant, wanting to savor the moment, but Lorenzo was looking at him expectantly with a hint of worry. He took a tiny bite, smiling widely as he chewed and swallowed, making Lorenzo smile too as he watched him with fascination. Andrew took another small bite, enjoying it the same way.

“I don’t think I have ever seen anyone enjoy a croissant that much,” Lorenzo said with something between amazement and sympathy, his heart breaking for the damaged angel at his feet.

“Thank you,” Andrew said heartfelt, his eyes glassy, unable to grasp anyone could be this kind to him.

“Do you want another?” Lorenzo asked, both wanting him to keep being this happy and yet sad that he could possibly be this much in wonder over something that small. What in the world had those horrible beings done to him in Idris? They might have angel blood in their veins but their hate clearly ran cold as ice.

“Maybe one with chocolate?” Lorenzo suggested when he saw Andrew hesitate, afraid of how he should answer the question.

“Can I, Sir? Please?” Andrew asked hopefully, hesitantly, unsure if this was a trick and the offer would be withdrawn again.

Chocolate! Wow. Chocolate in Idris was rare and only used for special occasions and only for the elite as the country sought to keep the general population in prime fighting condition as the warrior race they were trained from birth to become. Andrew hadn’t tasted chocolate since…Alec had smuggled some chocolate to him three years ago. He had claimed it was for his birthday. Andrew wasn’t sure if it was his birthday; he had no sense of time and he was no longer sure if he even recalled the date if asked. It had been a small piece, something Alec had been able to hide in his pocket, wrapped in a tissue. Closing his eyes Andrew imagined he could still taste it, even now. It had been the best birthday he could recall ever having.

Unknown to Andrew it actually hadn’t been his birthday that day but Jace’s. Alec had been unable to sneak away on his actual birthday nor did he himself have access to food without permission and he would never be allowed something like this; not for himself and certainty never for Andrew. However, Alec hadn’t wanted Andrew to know that, didn’t want Andrew to know he had spent his actual birthday in fear and pain. This memory he had created for Andrew was better. Valentine had always enjoyed giving and then taking things away, finding it an effective way to control people, none more so than his own son. Therefore, some years he would celebrate Jace’s birthday with a huge party and other years he would ignore the day all together. That year he had done the party and Alec had managed to steal the chocolate and sneak away. Alec wasn’t used to chocolate either, but he had recalled when they had been kids that while he wasn’t much for sweet things, Andrew had always loved it. With that in mind Alec had taken the chocolate to Andrew as carefully and preciously as if it was gold. To the two of them it was so much more valuable than that; the memory, the moment they had had together, was worth everything.

“Of course,” Lorenzo said and smiled as he conjured one with chocolate and handed it to Andrew who looked at it as if it was made of diamonds.

Andrew’s hands were slightly shaking when he accepted the croissant, palms facing up as if it was indeed a rare prize he was getting. He took it towards his mouth and looked at it, as if burning it to memory should he never be offered one ever again. Noticing Lorenzo looking at him with a look in his eyes he didn’t understand, Andrew took a small bite and almost moaned in pleasure as he chewed and swallowed.

Seeing him eat like this…Lorenzo almost felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. For Downworlders submission of any kind was treasured and protected, also that offered by an enemy. It was considered a grave offence and dishonor to degrade or punish someone who was already on their knees. Punishments should teach; they were not there just for the sake of it. Clearly, Andrew’s captors had not just wanted his submission. They had wanted to break him….and they had succeeded.

After quite some time Andrew finished with the croissant and Lorenzo handed him a cup of coffee and thereafter a glass of juice, telling him he could put both on the floor next to him whenever he wished. Andrew sipped each drink carefully and slowly with immense pleasure, making Lorenzo ask if he had never had coffee or juice of any kind before. Apparently, he had only ever been given water.

Lorenzo finally handed him an apple, which Andrew enjoyed in the same awe-stuck way. The fragility of his frame meant that Lorenzo didn’t think it would be wise to offer him more food too soon before his body had had time to adapt even though he really wanted to. He noticed the time and made a mental note of when he should ensure they sat down for lunch so Andrew could have something to eat then too. He furthermore made a mental note to talk to Catarina later in the day when he went to the War Council meeting; he wanted Andrew to get a full health check, now very concerned of just how fragile he might be.

In his focus on Andrew, Lorenzo had barely done more than nibble at a bun and drunk a little coffee and juice.

Seeing Andrew was done eating Lorenzo looked down at him and said in a serious tone, “Andrew, I would like to talk with you about something.”

Did he hear him correctly? Had he just…Andrew’s jaw dropped in shock and his eyes widened.

“You…you called me Andrew,” he whispered in a small voice filled with emotions, fighting to hold back tears.

“Is that not your name, pet?” Lorenzo asked with a frown.

“It’s just….” He closed his eyes when dark memories threatened to surface, “they would never use it. I…I almost forgot it until Alec reminded me.”

Lorenzo literally didn’t know what to say to that; a mixture of rage, anger, protectiveness and sympathy washing over him.

Lorenzo cleared his throat to get his emotions under control and said, “Andrew, I would like to offer you to wear a symbol, a collar of mine, so that everyone may see you belong to me and how much I treasure that fact. It will protect you, make anyone who has an aptitude for magic know you belong to me and will repel most common attacks; Mundane or magical ones. It will also let you feel if I need you to come to me if we are parted.”

Andrew looked confused at him, not sure what he meant.

“Like…Like the brand on Alec?” Andrew asked hesitantly, referring to the brand with his initials Magnus had left on Alec’s neck. He was certain the brand would be very painful to get but he also knew he had survived worse so he was mostly puzzled as to what it meant.

“Branding is the traditional way so our Prince had to do it that way as our world builds upon tradition and custom. However, for you it would instead be a collar but it would mean the same,” Lorenzo clarified.

Feeling he needed to explain why he didn’t follow tradition Lorenzo added, “Due to the Circle brand I have been forced to wear for the rest of my life, Valentine’s idea of mocking us Downworlders and our customs…well, I do not want brands like that involved in our bond and as I am not of royal blood and due to my…experiences in the camps, I can choose to do this instead and I do.”

Furthermore, what Lorenzo left unsaid, was that the thought of scarring Andrew further in any way, even this their traditional approach, was frankly unappealing and troubling to him now that he knew the truth about Andrew. Even more so now that he felt certain Andrew would never disobey him, betray him or do anything else to cause him pause or grief.

“I….I don’t know what you want from me, Sir,” Andrew said softly, hesitant.

Lorenzo tried to think of a better way to describe what he was asking, “I would like the world to know you are under my protection and that you belong to me.”

Andrew frowned confused. “But…you already own me.”

“I know but that doesn’t mean you would need to wear anything of mine nor does it mean I have to offer it nor tie myself to you in this or any other way. A collaring is a mutually strong commitment, similar to a marriage. We would then only ever belong to each other,” Lorenzo said matter of fact.

As Andrew still looked confused he conjured up two small balls, one blue and one red. He handed both to Andrew who took them with a puzzled look.

“If I say the red ball belong to me what would you do?” Lorenzo asked.

“I would take care of it, Sir, of course,” Andrew replied, unsure what they were doing.

“Ok, good. And if I tell you I also own the blue ball but the blue ball is special to me and highly treasured?”

“I would take extra care of it and be very gentle when handling it,” he promised.

Lorenzo smiled and did a wave of his hand and the balls disappeared again. “That’s the difference. You would be better protected with my collar; you would have a higher station as it will show I care for you. No one would dare as much as consider touching you without permission.”

Andrew was thoughtful for a moment. “Is Alec protected like that then? With the brand of the Prince?”

Lorenzo nodded. “Yes. However, it would be conditional on the general’s submission.”

Andrew frowned in confusion. “He already did, Sir.”

Lorenzo shook his head. “No. He surrendered. That’s something else.”

Andrew was thoughtful, trying to understand. “But…I saw him kneel in the courtyard.”

“Kneeling is not submission. It is just a position like any other,” Lorenzo explained.

At Andrew’s confused look, Lorenzo added with a devious look in his eyes and a sexy smirk on his lips, “Do you want me to show you?”

Andrew wasn’t sure what to say to that. He followed Lorenzo with his eyes and moved his body around to face him as Lorenzo rose and came to stand in front of him, the table behind them.

“Stand up,” Lorenzo ordered and Andrew did so at once.

Lorenzo snapped his fingers and Andrew felt like rope was holding his hands together behind his back at the wrists. His confusion gave way to arousal when Lorenzo knelt in front of him. He had trouble breathing; no one had ever knelt for him before.

“Keep your eyes open and on me. Give me all the noises you have but you only come when I say so, you understand?” Lorenzo ordered sharply.

“Yes, Sir,” Andrew promised, feeling himself getting hard at the idea of Lorenzo giving him a blowjob. It had been amazing the last time. Lorenzo snapped his fingers and Andrew’s cock sprang free from its trappings.

Lorenzo locked eyes with him as he put his hands on the base of his cock and slowly went down.

“Oh, fuck!” Andrew got out at the feeling of Lorenzo’s warm mouth and teasing tongue. He wasn’t going to last long like this; the sensations and the sight of the kneeling Warlock…it was overwhelming.

Lorenzo started moving up and down, licking and sucking as he went, slowly increasing his speed. It didn’t take long for Andrew to moan loudly, his legs shaky, his breathing quick and ragged.

“Eyes on me!” Lorenzo ordered as he came off his cock when Andrew in pleasure had half-closed his eyes.

“Y…yes, Sir,” Andrew got out as Lorenzo gave him no time to recover before he sank back down on his cock.

Lorenzo added a hand to his movements up and down and Andrew was at the edge.

“Please…I’m close,” he got out, fighting to keep looking down at him.

Lorenzo looked at him, never breaking eye contact.

“Not yet,” he ordered before going back down on him.

“Fuck!” Andrew cried as he fought to hold back.

He was abruptly aware of how together Lorenzo looked and how shaky and out of control he was. He was suddenly aware he was the only one exposed while Lorenzo was fully dressed.

“I…I can’t, Sir. Please!” Andrew begged, fighting to hold on. He wanted to obey but it was difficult, he was so close.

“Tell me how much you need it and I will consider it,” Lorenzo said with an evil grin as he pulled off his cock before taking him back in.

“Yes, yes! I need it, please,” Andrew mumbled frantically, fighting to hold back.

Lorenzo kept licking and sucking, moving up and down on his cock, never breaking eye contact with him. Andrew was certain he would lose his mind and fought to keep looking down at him.

“Please….I am begging you. Please, let me come,” Andrew begged, tears from the strain of holding back on his cheeks now. He wanted to obey so much but it was getting too hard.

“Come. Now!” Lorenzo ordered sharply and as soon as he put his lips back on his cock, Andrew came with a loud yell, putting his head back as his arms instinctively fought the magical bonds.

The world blackened, dots appeared before his eyes and he was aware he was falling and losing consciousness, but somehow he didn’t worry about it. Lorenzo had said he would take care of him. He had been good; he had done as he had been ordered.

When Andrew again became aware of his surroundings he was in Lorenzo’s arms, resting against his chest, sitting in a soft sofa in the corner of one of the living rooms he had seen when they had gone to breakfast. They had both been magically cleaned up and he was dressed again, the magical bonds gone. Lorenzo had either moved him here magically or carried him.

Lorenzo did a hand movement and a glass of juice appeared in his hand.

“Here, pet, drink this,” Lorenzo said softly.

Andrew smiled, feeling high and floaty.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said softly as he reached for the glass. He found his hand was trembling slightly so Lorenzo helped him to drink.

When he was done, Lorenzo made the glass disappear again. He held Andrew tight in his embrace for a few more moments while Andrew enjoyed the floaty feeling.

“Did you enjoy yourself, pet?” Lorenzo asked with amusement in his voice.

Andrew turned around in his embrace so he could look at him and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. That was…amazing.”

Lorenzo smiled in satisfaction before asking, “So…as I was on my knees do you think I was submitting to you?”

Andrew shook his head. “No, Sir. You were clearly in control.”

Lorenzo nodded. “Precisely. Therefore, to answer your question then if Alec can truly submit then not only would Magnus cherish him but the whole Downworld would. It is our way.”

“You don’t think he can do that, Sir?” Andrew asked when he saw the doubt in the Warlock’s face.

“Not everyone can. The general didn’t make a good start in the courtyard but maybe he will learn,” Lorenzo said evasively, not wanting to say he was very doubtful since it clearly mattered to Andrew and he saw no point in breaking that hope just yet.

Andrew smiled as he thought of it; he wanted that for Alec; to be protected and cherished.

“I am certain he will. He’s smart. He’ll adapt,” Andrew said with certainty.

“So, back to you, pet,” Lorenzo said seriously, scanning his face carefully for his reaction. “What do you think of my offer? Do you wish to belong to me in that way?”

Andrew smiled warmly, a bit shyly as he said, “Yes. I wish that. It would be….nice.”

He liked the idea of feeling protected, of not having to be afraid he would be shared, given away, or otherwise flung aside when he disappointed, the way he had been in Idris. He had belonged to no one and everyone there, which meant no one had cared what happened to him. It sounded nice to have someone who wanted to show him to the world as his, who wanted to ensure he was safe and cared for and protected.

Lorenzo smiled contently. He had always wanted someone to wear his collar but had never found someone suitable. He had always been certain when he met the person he wanted he would know right away and he did. Andrew was the one. He knew it. He was everything Lorenzo wanted to protect and care for; soft, kind, submissive and fragile.

Lorenzo made a wave with his left hand, making a gold collar appear in his right hand, soft velvet on the inside of it. It was beautiful and with black diamonds like black rain all over the gold, the two letters L.R. written on it in white diamonds. It was flashy and shiny like everything else Lorenzo owned.

Andrew looked at it in amazement; it was so special and pretty…and clearly expensive.

“Is it for…me, Sir? It is so beautiful. Surely I don’t need anything that special,” Andrew said in awe and shock.

“Of course you need special things; you are special,” Lorenzo said softly, smiling happily as Andrew’s reaction just confirmed his desire to collar him, protect him, care for him and spoil him.

Andrew blushed, looking down, overwhelmed again.

“Come, kneel down,” Lorenzo ordered and Andrew instinctually went to his knees in front of the Warlock, next to where he was sitting on the sofa, baring his neck so Lorenzo could close the collar around it.

When Lorenzo had closed it, Andrew drew back, a wide smile of awe on his face and his eyes misty. He couldn’t believe he might actually be safe now. That he could have this. Andrew touched the collar carefully, feeling it against his skin.

“How does it feel, pet?” Lorenzo asked softly, smiling tenderly when he looked at him wearing his mark, his collar; he liked this look on him.

“It’s…it’s nice. Soft on the inside. Comfortable. I like how it feels against my skin; like knowing you are watching over me,” Andrew admitted shyly, blushing a little. He smiled, the collar made him feel safer than he had in years.

“Good,” Lorenzo said warmly as he stroked Andrew’s hair tenderly, smiling when Andrew leaned into the touch.

“If I need you and we are not together the collar will feel warmer,” Lorenzo explained. When Andrew instinctively tensed he hurried to add, “not painful or even uncomfortable. Like a warm blanket.”

Andrew visibly relaxed again and the smile was back.

“I like that. I like knowing I will always be able to tell when you need me if I am not near,” Andrew admitted and was about to bite his lower lip when he remembered and stopped. “Then I am sure I will never do anything wrong.”

“I know you never will, angel,” Lorenzo said softly and tipped his head up with a single finger under his chin before he kissed him so softly as if he was made of crystal.

When Lorenzo drew back, smiling down at him Andrew leaned closer to him, eager for more of the soft caress. As he sat there by Lorenzo’s feet he felt more at peace than he could recall he ever had. This felt safe, easy. As long as he did as he was told he was safe, he was cared for, he was protected. This he could do. This he could make work.

Chapter Text

Please read the chapter notes for warnings - explicit sex in this chapter

Chapter 10: Fall into me

 

“No more fear, cause I'm getting closer now. So unreal, but I like it anyhow.” ( Faster Faster, Within Temptation)

 

Magnus awoke to the soft mumbled sound of Alec’s voice. He stayed still, listening to what he was saying, keeping his eyes closed.

“You are a beauty, aren’t you? So soft, look at you,” Alec mumbled softly, his voice filled with warmth and tenderness.

Curious to find out what he was doing Magnus turned around in bed. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the Nephilim lying next to him, stroking his grey cat who had curled up in a ball next to him, purring happily.

“Good morning, Alexander,” Magnus said and was a bit disappointed when Alec seemed to withdraw a bit when he noticed he was awake.

“So…sorry, Prince. I didn’t realize….I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said quickly, blushing, nervously. Unsure about Downworlder rules when it came to touching someone’s pet he quickly added, “Or pet your cat.”

“Oh, do pet him – all of them love it,” Magnus said with a smile, including his two other cats in the statement.

Alec relaxed at his words and continued stroking the cat.

“He’s so soft,” Alec said in awe, his eyes warm and fond as he looked down at the small feline.

“He’s a cat; that helps,” Magnus said amused, a bit surprised by Alec’s clear fascination with his cat.

“When I was a child in Idris I wanted to be a cat. They looked so free,” Alec suddenly stated, unaware he had spoken out loud, his attention on the cat.

The painkillers he had taken had lowered his inhibitions and that combined with the lack of sleep the last many days made him say the first thing that came to his mind.

“Oh?” Magnus questioned, interested in this insight to his life.

Alec seemed to return to reality and he suddenly realized where he was and that he had spoken aloud. He needed to pull himself together.

“Sorry, Prince. I will….I should…” Alec quickly said as he stopped petting the cat. Avoiding Magnus’ curious gaze he began to slip out from under the covers to leave the bed, unsure where to go or what to do but surely, he wasn’t meant to just lie here with him.

Magnus quickly gripped his nearest wrist in a strong grip and his tone was firm when he said, “Stay.”

Alec stopped moving and looked at his hand on his wrist as he went back to lie next to him under the covers.

“Shouldn’t I….?” he began, a bit confused, hesitant.

“Alexander, I will let you know if you need to do anything else or be anywhere else. Right now I want you here,” Magnus reassured him as he released his wrist.

Alec nodded; that sounded easy enough. “Ok, Prince.”

Magnus looked out of the bedroom window and saw the sun was still only rising.

“It is quite early. Did pain wake you up?” Magnus asked with a hint of worry.

He didn’t want him to be in agony; that was why he had sent him to Catarina. Sure, he would be expected to have discomfort so he understood the consequences of his actions but nothing severe.

“No, Prince. I woke up a few hours ago and took some of the medicine,” Alec explained, surprised at his worry for his health and even more surprised that he liked thinking he did care for how he felt.

“So it was bad then?” Magnus questioned; a bit surprised.

Catarina was a great healer. She should have done a good job bandaging him and given him painkillers yesterday. He was surprised it would hurt so much already as he had purposely not added his full strength nor any magic to his hits; punishments was to teach and cruelty never taught anyone anything. He knew well how a lashing felt as Valentine had used it as one of his many torture methods back when Magnus had been his prisoner in Idris. Valentine, however, had certainly not held back in any way when he had been delivering this or any other pain upon Magnus; on the contrary. Valentine had had one purpose and that had been to break him and he had tried his hardest in the most cruel and inventive ways possible to make that happen.

“A little,” Alec admitted shyly, sounding embarrassed, looking down as he replied.

“Alexander, if the pain wasn’t so bad why did you take more medicine?” Magnus demanded to know, frowning.

Magnus had put the pills on the nightstand by Alec’s side of the bed in case they would be needed, but he knew from Catarina that she had explained to Alec he should only take them when needed. Growing up with Valentine Magnus was starting to realize Alec had developed quite a high pain threshold so he found it unbelievable he would take anything for just a mild pain.

“I….” Alec started to say but then stopped, unsure how to explain it.

“Be truthful, Alexander, remember?” Magnus said sternly. Realizing maybe he didn’t recall, he reminded him, “I will never punish you for telling me the truth when I ask you for it.”

“Thank you, Prince,” Alec said with a small smile but that wasn’t why he had difficulty saying it. He felt…weak saying it, admitting it. While Magnus might not punish him for the truth, he might still be punished for the implications of it.

“I…I had a nightmare,” he said softly, his cheeks coloring with shame.

It sounded so…Mundane and even worse; it sounded so weak that he would feel so shaken by that, that he had taken something to make the resulting panic the images had left him with go away.

He remembered what Valentine had done when he had overheard Alec awake up screaming from a nightmare. He had entered his room and dragged him into the courtyard, wearing only his bowers and a t-shirt and had ordered him to stand at attention outside for the rest of the night, until he came to fetch him. Valentine had claimed it would teach him to toughen up and not disturb the whole mansion with his weak Mundane shenanigans. Jace had followed his father out and had remarked Alec wasn’t as tough as him; maybe he couldn’t take this punishment. However, despite Valentine’s general belief that Alec was weak he ignored Jace and ordered Alec to carry out his order.

It had been winter but luckily around 2 degrees Celsius so there was no snow. It had been around three at night and Alec’s bare feet were already getting icy cold. Around five in the morning he had lost all feeling in his toes, but the rest of his legs were freezing. Suddenly a pair of warm socks had landed at his feet and Alec barely managed to catch a glimpse of Jace as he closed his bedroom window, the golden glow in his eyes lighting up the night, indicating he had used his Angelic powers to activate his runes and ensure his aim had been true. Alec considered if he should take the risk of putting the socks on as Valentine would surely punish him severely for doing so – Jace too if he knew he had helped him, which would often mean further punishment for him or that they both went without food until he was in a better mood.

In the end, Alec was too cold not to put on the socks. At first the warmth around his numb feet brought agonizing pain as feeling returned to them. However, slowly they warmed up and it got better. Around 0630 he was too afraid of Valentine noticing he had the socks on that he took them off and buried them in the ground behind him quickly, his heat racing in fear he would get caught. When Valentine went out to look at how he had taken his punishment it was almost eight in the morning and Alec was shivering, his teeth clashing, barely managing to keep standing at attention. Valentine had finally allowed him back inside with the warning of not showing such weakness again.

“You miss your old bed, your old room?” Magnus guessed, his voice not unkind.

It would be natural. It was a big change and Magnus assumed the only life Alec had ever known was Idris.

Alec looked at him as if he was insane and then he laughed. Magnus looked shocked at him but then a smile started to curve his own lips. What an amazing sound and Alec’ smile lit up the whole room. Alec was beautiful before but he was like an angel, a real angel, when he laughed. Magnus was mesmerized looking at him.

“Not at all, Prince. Your study alone is more than four times the size of my room, everything you own is fancy and soft and nice….and you have cats,” Alec said, still smiling at the absurd idea he would miss staying at Valentine’s home.

“What was the nightmare about then?” Magnus asked, puzzled.

Alec bit his lower lip nervously but then remembered he wasn’t supposed to do something that hurt himself any more when Magnus gave him a warning look. He instantly stopped, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, Prince,” he quickly said, looking down again for a moment.

“Continue answering my question,” Magnus said gracefully, ignoring his slip with a nod of his head.

Alec looked back at him and his eyes clouded with remembered pain for a moment.

“The past. Things I have done in the past,” Alec replied anguished.

“Anything specific?” Magnus questioned, a hint of understanding in his voice.

Magnus had his own nightmares; most of them revolving around the torture he had endured at Valentine’s hands and the loss off his men back then. However, as the war had continued he felt the loss of any one of his people keenly. His worst and recurring nightmare was for Valentine to win and having to witness Valentine kill and destroy the entire Downworld, killing him last only after he had seen everything he had fought to save dead and gone in the cruelest way possible.

Alec grimaced, a hint of self-hatred flashing in his eyes. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“I won’t punish you for telling me what I ask, remember? Tell me what the nightmare was about,” Magnus said, putting enough command into his words to make Alec know he was expecting him to reply.

Alec’s whole face clouded with pain and self-loathing.

“I….I killed a warlock girl and her Mundane mother,” he replied softly, unable to meet his eyes as he spoke.

Magnus fought down his rising anger and contempt. A hint of loathing filled him; he had enjoyed touching this creature who had done that?! What kind of leader did that make him?!

“How?” Magnus asked sharply, fighting to remain still, fighting not to react.

He had known who Alec had been when he had accepted his deal; he shouldn’t be surprised at hearing this about him. He didn’t ask why he would have done it; he was a Shadowhunter. There was only one why.

“With my Seraph blade,” Alec admitted, his voice so low Magnus could barely hear him, distress and anguish in his eyes and voice as he spoke. “They had been caught between our advance and the safety of your lines; out attack that day had caught several Downworlders by surprise and we had claimed a lot of territory, trapping several non-combatants between our advance and what was to become the new front line. They had already been processed when I saw them.”

“And what does that mean?” Magnus asked harshly, barely controlled anger in his voice.

Children were especially cherished in the Downworld as several of the immortal races were infertile, namely Warlocks and vampires. Werewolves and Seelies were the only Downworlder races able to reproduce.

“It means…” Alec admitted, taking a deep breath and finally looking at him, letting him see the regret and pain in his eyes. “It means they were on the way to the camps.”

“Then why kill them? They were on the way to the closest thing to Hell Earth has to offer,” Magnus said icily.

“They were waiting to be transported. The mother….” Alec paused, taking a deep breath, remembering seeing them there, on their knees. He fought to ignore the memory. “She begged me,” he finished anguished, remembering her voice even now, ringing in his mind.

“And you did,” Magnus said matter of fact, some of his anger fading. Sparing them the camps…it was a mercy, a kindness.

Magnus still grieved this loss of life but their fate had been sealed when they had not made it safely back behind the line held by his forces.

Alec nodded grimly. “Yes.”

“Then what?” Magnus asked, curious how he would have managed to get away with this. “Valentine surely isn’t happy with people killing off his playthings,” he added harshly, remembering in painful detail what it had been like when he had been one of those playthings.

Alec winced, shaking his head as he remembered all too well the consequences of his decision. “No. I was suitably punished.”

Alec had spent his entire life up until now fighting for a control he was staring to realize he had never had. First, his parents had decided his fate, then his instructors, then Valentine and if he had been away then it had been Jace. He had fought to keep a small part of himself insolated and safe but that part had become smaller and smaller. At the end of the day, he had done as Magnus had accused him of when he had offered this deal to him; he had surrendered to him. He had become his general, fought his war. Oh, Valentine had never gotten into his mind or heart, Alec had never believed his nonsense about Downworlders being lesser beings and all of that, but that hadn’t changed the outcome. In some ways Alec felt it made him worse than the true believers because he had known it had been wrong. He had always known all of this had been wrong.

Alec hadn’t wanted to know what happened in the camps but he wasn’t stupid; he had known it was bad. He had tried to ensure he killed everyone he faced on the battlefield and gave orders for no wounded to be left alive. The soldiers had taken the order as a sign of strength and brutality; it had in fact been a mercy. It was a small mercy but it was the only mercy he could offer. However, almost all of the battles he had won had still resulted in prisoners as Downworlders had surrendered in a desperate and ultimately useless attempt of surviving. All prisoners were documented and tagged; as if they were livestock so none could escape unnoticed. Alec had only once interfered after that and that one time was the one which had plagued his dreams this night.

The human woman had been on her knees with her warlock child as they had waited transportation to the camps. The mother had grabbed his hand as he had walked by them, having been hugging her child, a girl at around four years old close to her chest. They had been left alone for a moment, both of them bound, the Warlock child with a spell so she couldn’t use her powers, thanks to one of the Warlocks Valentine had forced to aid him. The mother had known this had been her only chance; there had been no one else within sight but Alec, herself and her child. She had pleaded with Alec to kill them both now; she couldn’t endure the thought of the camps; having heard tales of the horrors that took place there and not wishing her child to be forced to help Valentine. Most human mothers disowned their Warlock children; hating the stain of demon in them, unable to handle the memory or the knowledge that the child was a product of the horrible demonic rape they had endured. Yet this woman was strong, her love was true. She loved this child and she was crying and pleading, begging him on her knees to kill them now. Alec had never seen such love from a mother to her child before; it was not the Shadowhunter way.

Not thinking of the consequences, Alec had agreed and she had smiled at him as she had hugged her child close, asking her child to close her eyes as she had pulled the child’s face down towards her shoulder, ensuring her face was turned away from Alec. When Alec had drawn his Seraph blade she had smiled up at him, unafraid, her eyes grateful. She had thanked him with her last breath, her last words, as he had swung and had decapitated them both with one swing. Wanting them to be together in death in case there should be an afterlife he had burned the bodies, the mother’s arm still around her child as they burned and were set free. The fire had attracted the others but Alec had been satisfied; now they couldn’t use the bodies for whatever experiments Valentine and his scientists thought up. He still saw both of their faces in his dreams, he still heard the mother’s voice begging him for death…he still saw their dead bodies.

Jace had been furious at him when it had been discovered. Valentine had been away on a mission and Jace had hoped if he punished Alec then Valentine wouldn’t. Therefore, he had beaten him so brutally Alec had been unable to move for several days. It had been a mercy, Alec had thought. Jace had been kind to him that time; he had even bandaged him afterwards but had left him to heal the Mundane way. However, it hadn’t mattered. Valentine had given him the worst whipping of his life when he had returned, making sure he carried out the punishment more than one month later, after the marks from the beating had healed completely.

After that Alec had never done something like that again. He had saved Madzie as she had not been tagged and processed yet. In her face he had seen the face of the Warlock child he had killed; the one he had not been able to save.

“Hmm. I doubt Valentine knows what a suitable punishment is for anything. He is not someone who understand anything about balance,” Magnus said with hatred in his voice. Crime and punishment had to match; for Warlocks balancing the scales was important.

“He balances throwing knives well. He showed me once. He was…displeased I couldn’t copy him,” Alec said, frowning at the memory, his words tumbling out, prompted by Magnus mentioning balance in the same sentence as Valentine. His brain was a bit mangled and hazy thanks to the painkillers he had taken, but in a pleasant way as he quickly was able let go of the memory of Valentine’s punishment for his failure at handling the throwing knives well enough for his liking.

Magnus gave Alec an intense look, surprised by the comment.

“Alexander, why did you take the painkillers then?” Magnus asked, thinking he knew why but wanted to hear him say it.

Alec raised his eyes to look at Magnus and then smiled, the darkness and shadows gone from his face.

“I feel better now,” Alec said, his voice light now. He reflected and then went on, “And then the cat came. I call him grey. Does he have a name? He’s so soft.”

“You’re high,” Magnus concluded, something between amusement and surprise in his voice. He really should be upset but he decided to let it slip; he had told him he could take the painkillers when he needed to and he had clearly felt he had needed to. Not precisely what Magnus had meant obviously but still…. Besides, Alec’s ramblings were actually…quite endearing. It made him seem younger and more innocent in a way they both knew he hadn’t been for years. Alec had an openness to him at the moment, he seemed more free and less guarded and Magnus found that he liked it. Maybe feeling like this would help him; would make the transition easier for him and Magnus was ok with allowing him this escape.

“I’m not!” Alec protested with a hint of insult but then he laughed. “I’m lying down.”

Again, Alec’s laugh echoed in the room and in Magnus’ soul and his smile was like a star.

“Do that again,” Magnus said softly, mesmerized, surprising himself by saying it out loud.

Alec sobered and gave him a confused look, “Do what?”

“Laugh,” Magnus replied honestly.

“Oh. Why?” Alec asked puzzled.

“I like the sound. It makes you radiate,” Magnus said with a smile of his own.

“I…I don’t…radiate, Prince,” Alec insisted, blushing. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. It was…confusing but…nice.

“You most certainly do,” Magnus insisted, surprised that someone so comfortable with death and killing could be so innocent when it came to intimacy of any kind.

Alec looked at the Warlock, really looked at him. His brown eyes, a face so fine and perfectly balanced a painter or a photographer would love to capture it forever, a muscled body a sculptor would die to copy and the graceful mannerisms of the lovechild between a dancer and an assassin; deadly and elegant.

“You are quite eye-catching too, Prince,” Alec admitted, his fuzzy brain seem to insist on blurting out whatever came to mind first before he realized what he had said.

At Magnus’ surprised look Alec realized what he had said and put a hand up to cover his mouth in horror. He had never before voiced his attraction to men, or even just appreciation of the physical appearance of men; saying it aloud, hearing it echo in the room…it was scary beyond words.

“Why thank you, Alexander,” Magnus said with an amazed look, a sexy smile spreading over his lips.

Hearing this Alec removed his hand from his mouth and gave him a sheepish look.

“You should relax more, let go more. Like this,” Magnus encouraged, enjoying having him act so unfiltered.

“It was not an option before,” Alec admitted frankly, his eyes darkening a bit as he imagined letting his guard down just once while around Valentine. That would not have ended well.

“I imagine not,” Magnus admitted and paused before he added, “You do know there is nothing wrong with being gay or having sexual desires for another man, right?”

“I…” Alec began, surprised by hearing this said out loud as he had only ever heard the opposite voiced. Oh, he knew Downworlders didn’t believe it was wrong; another thing Idris had held against them. He wanted to say that he logically knew it but did he know it? He blushed, looking down, hesitating. “Honestly? No, Prince.”

“Well, I shall just have to spend some time teaching you then,” Magnus decided, giving him a seductive smile as he stroked his cheek and leaned close.

For a moment their eyes locked as Magnus leaned closer and closer and Alec’s breath increased in anticipation before the Warlock claimed his lips. Still not used to kissing Alec was unsure what to do with his own tongue when he felt Magnus invade his mouth. Feeling bold thanks to the drugs he tried moving his own tongue to play with Magnus’, opening his eyes to see Magnus’ reaction. The Warlock’s eyes showed surprise for a second but then increased desire as he put a hand behind Alec’s head and deepened the kiss. When Magnus finally drew back Alec fought to get his breathing back under control, his eyes clouded by awakened desire and his cock half-hard. Magnus gave him a knowing smirk, his hand that had been behind his head now caressing his arm.

Alec was surprised he didn’t feel more embarrassed by the awaking desires he felt and decided to be bold now when the combination of painkillers and no sleep had finally freed him from his normal burdensome tendency to overthink and overanalyze thanks to an overly active brain.

“Prince, can I….” he started to ask but then hesitated, unsure how to explain it.

“Alexander, when we are in bed together you can always ask me anything,” Magnus assured him, smiling reassuringly.

From his tone and the lust he could see in his eyes, Magnus felt quite certain the comment would be about sex but he wanted him to actually say it.

“I would like…I want….Can I…” Alec got out, stammering. Even with the drugs helping him to feel lighter, his brain less active, his inhibitions lowered further than he had ever felt before, years of repressing his sexual desires were still difficult to let go off.

“If you can say it I will say yes, Alexander,” Magnus encouraged him with a sexy smile as he kept stroking his arm in a suggestive manner.

Alec forced himself to take a deep breath before he said honestly, “I feel….lighter, less burdened, right now and I don’t want to waste it.”

Magnus couldn’t help but be a little amused at hearing that, “You have an unusually logical approach to being high.”

Alec smiled back a little, “Maybe but…”

“Yes?” Magnus pressed.

“Can…Can I try doing what I did…you know?” Alec managed to get out, blushing, looking down for a moment before looking back at him.

“I don’t read minds, pet. Be more specific,” Magnus demanded, not unkindly.

“The blowjob. That first day. Can we try that again?” Alec managed to get out.

He hadn’t enjoyed it that first time; he had been too nervous and scared, knowing he needed to do well if his family was to be saved. He wanted to try it now that he was in a state of mind where he might actually be able to enjoy doing it. Furthermore, he wanted to learn how to do it better and be less nervous about it and as he well knew; the only way to improve anything was to keep practicing.

Magnus smiled seductively at the idea.

“I would love that,” the Warlock replied with hunger in his voice. “How would you like me?”

“I…” Alec started but then didn’t know what to say and was unsure what would be the right answer as no one had ever asked him that before.

“There’s no right or wrong answer. I never ask questions if I already know I want a specific answer. If I ask the choice is yours,” Magnus explained matter of fact.

Alec nodded, relieved, at that. With Valentine it had almost always been the opposite; he had wanted a specific answer and if he didn’t get it there was hell to pay.

Alec thought about the question. What would he like? He was new to this so he didn’t know what to do. Therefore, the best approach seemed to be to let Magnus lead and see what he wanted, how he wanted it. He therefore went to the only memory and knowledge he had of a blowjob which had been that first time he had met him and he had offered the Warlock Prince this deal.

“I….I think I liked…you know…when you….when we…” Alec began, fighting to get the words out, blushing a deep red.

It was hard to say it; not only because of the homophobia he had been raised within but also because kneeling of any kind was, in Idris, viewed as a weakness and asking to take such a position would be scorned. He was determined to do this though; now was his chance to do it without those feelings Idris had pushed upon him getting in the way and maybe then, later on, it would make it easier to let go and make those voices from the past shut up.

“Alexander, would you like to kneel while doing it?” Magnus asked, taking pity on him.

Alec sighed in relief. “Yes, please!”

Magnus smiled at that and pulled the covers aside, swinging his legs out over the side of the bed and rose. He noticed Alec looking at him with admiration and hunger as he unashamedly walked to stand by the end of the bed.

“Good thing I sleep in the nude,” Magnus said with a sexy smile.

Alec’s brain started to work again and he quickly pulled the covers aside and rose too. Even though they had spent a night together already Alec wouldn’t actually have known how Magnus slept as they hadn’t really been sleeping much at all the first night.

“Oh. I am naked too,” Alec asked with wonder, now realizing it. “How did I get here?” he asked, realizing he couldn’t remember.

“I carried you,” Magnus said matter of fact as he admired Alec as he walked over towards him. With the bandages around his torso protecting his back he looked like something between a Greek god and a hesitant puppy; it was weirdly endearing. Alec seemed very conscious of being naked and even more so of Magnus’ openly hungry eyes on his body but managed not to cover himself.

“You fell asleep while reading a book not long after I got back,” Magnus explained, thinking talking about something else might distract Alec a bit from his issues with nudity. It seemed to work as Alec managed to walk to him and kneel in front of him without too much outward discomfort.

“Oh. Thank you, Prince,” Alec said softly, looking down for a moment to gather his courage as he would now be at eye level with his cock. He was comforted further by the knowledge that Magnus hadn’t awaken him last night or been upset he had fallen asleep. He would after all have every right to do both. He had been oddly…thoughtful, considerate.

Having Alec kneeling in front of him made Magnus’ cock start to harden and Magnus looked down at him in anticipation.

“Now…I think you promised me to show me your new skills?” Magnus reminded him as Alec forced his hesitation down and put both hands around the base of his cock, holding it in place.

He started to stroke it slowly, hesitantly, up and down, not going all the way to the tip.

“I…Could you maybe…Guide me, please?” Alec asked hesitantly, looking up at him hopefully.

“Of course,” Magnus promised, pleased at Alec’s initiative. The Nephilim had promised him when he had made the deal he would learn to be better, and Magnus had believed him. However, he had also been a bit hesitant on how to proceed with that since Alec’s disobedience with Jace the other day. This seemed like a great opportunity to move ahead on that front; apparently Alec had thought so too. His words mixed with the haziness of his brain brought on by the drugs, giving Alec courage to try and experiment. He started moving one hand up and down, taking it all the way to the tip and the back again, looking up at Magnus to evaluate his reactions to everything he did.

“Like this?” Alec asked as he started to move his hand faster.

“Yes, just like that. Not too fast and hard at first; lead up to it. The journey is half the pleasure,” Magnus told him, letting him see his pleasure in his eyes and face each time he moved his hand.

Alec slowed his stroking and then bent to lick at the tip, looking up at him and almost smiled when he saw Magnus half-close his eyes in pleasure.

“Better?” Alec asked before he started to lick at the tip again, sometimes taking the whole head into his mouth and others just licking while he kept stroking him with his hand.

“Just perfect,” Magnus purred and Alec blushed prettily at the praise.

Alec continued to experiment, licking and sucking, moving his hand up and down, occasionally paying attention to his balls before moving up, Magnus guiding him and lavishing praise every step of the way.

Enjoying being the center of this experiment, it took some time before Magnus noticed that while Alec seemed very intent on his task he also didn’t seem to give himself over to it. Magnus could see he was hard and he had had enough blowjobs to tell if someone liked giving one, yet whenever Magnus thought Alec might make a noise to indicate that, the sound was strangled. He took a fist in Alec’s hair and forced him off his cock and his head up so he was looking at him. Alec’s eyes were huge, reflecting desire and a hint of curiosity regarding why he had stopped him as he looked at him. The briefest hint of fear that he had done something wrong flashed over his eyes, but when he looked up and saw no anger in Magnus’ face it quickly dissolved.

“It’s ok to enjoy it. In fact, I very much hope you do,” Magnus told him, letting him see his own desire clearly in his eyes, face and voice.

“I…I was taught not to,” Alec admitted, his voice slightly hoarse from experimenting with taking Magnus as deep as he could.

“Not to enjoy sex?” Magnus asked confused.

Alec shook his head. “Not with a man.”

Something in Alec’s tone made Magnus ask, “Is that the only thing you struggle with?”

Alec hesitated for a second before he managed to reply honestly thanks to the lightness of his brain the drugs had brought him, “I….I enjoy doing this…like this. Isn’t that wrong? I mean I’m…kneeling.”

“Yes, you are, darling but that doesn’t mean you have to be powerless if that’s what you are wondering,” Magnus replied, having guessed it would be something like that plaguing him.

“How so?” Alec asked confused.

“Keep going but keep your eyes on me. See what you can do to me,” Magnus ordered, smiling seductively as he pushed Alec back onto his cock with the grip in his hair.

Alec kept his eyes on Magnus as he continued to suck and lick, increasing his speed. Magnus was moaning loudly and when Alec took him particularly deeply, he laid his head back and pushed him down even further with a hand on his neck. Alec had tears in his eyes but managed not to fight the grip till Magnus let him up and Alec pulled off to breathe. Magnus kept his fist in his hair but let Alec set the pace now. Looking up at him Alec felt increasingly more powerful as he saw how everything he did affected him; a simple lick here, sucking there and he could get the Prince to moan out loud. Seeing his reaction made Alec feel bolder and made it easier for him to give into his own enjoyment. He hummed against the cock in his mouth and saw how the vibrations made Magnus moan even louder. When Magnus warned him he was close Alec was determined to swallow, having heard tales from the soldiers back in Idris about how much they enjoyed that. When Magnus came down his throat Alec almost choked on it but managed to swallow instead. Magnus was about to pull out when he saw him struggling but Alec went back to lick him clean after he had managed to swallow before he pulled back. Magnus still tasted salty and slightly of sulfur but it wasn’t bad or maybe he was just starting to get used to it.

Feeling proud of himself Alec sat back on his knees, looking expectantly up at Magnus, hoping he would feel he had done better.

Magnus looked down at the kneeling Nephilim, taking in his swollen lips, the tears staining his cheeks but above all the content and satisfied look in his eyes. Magnus smiled warmly, contently down at him, endorphins still floating his system.

“That was amazing. You did so well,” Magnus praised.

“Thank you, Prince,” Alec said with a smile back of his own, for once not blushing but just looked satisfied. He had done it and he had done it well….he had even managed to like it. He was making progress. However, a blowjob was one thing….he should probably experiment with something else now he was at it….

“You want something?” Magnus asked with a hint of amusement when he saw Alec’s mouth move as if to say something but he kept it back. He recognized the look in Alec’s eyes; need, lust and desire.

Now Alec did blush and he looked down, hesitant. “I…”

“You cock seem to indicate you want something,” Magnus mused, half-amused and half-aroused as he referred to Alec’s very erect cock, which was until now neglected. Alec’s eyes went to his own cock before he looked back at Magnus, blushing even more as if he just remembered – again – that he was naked.

“Come on. Let me hear you say it,” Magnus coaxed.

Alec took a deep breath, telling himself he had made this deal on the condition he could do this. It was just words; how hard could it be? Helped by the drugs in his system he managed to get it out as he looked up at Magnus with wide eyes, “I…do you want to fuck me, Prince?”

“That’s not you asking for something. That’s you asking me. Try again,” Magnus ordered, his voice matter of fact but still firm, the words a command but his eyes showed his own renewing desire at what he expected Alec to ask for.

“Please…I….I would like to….” Alec stammered, blushing furiously, his voice hoarse from the abuse it had taken from the blowjob.

Magnus was unsure why he decided to take pity on him again. Maybe because he was clearly trying, making because he looked so sexy and yet so vulnerable as he looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Magnus asked with something between exasperation, desire and an unusual softness to his tone.

Again, Alec sighed with relief at not having to say the words himself even though he was mentally angry with himself for still, even now, being so useless in this department. He had bartered with this; it had been a part of the deal. He could do it.

“Yes….yes, please,” Alec readily agreed, nodding. His eyes shone with anticipation, a hint of nervousness, lust and arousal.

Magnus couldn’t help but smile a little at the response. “How do you want it?”

Alec tried to think but didn’t really know any sex positions outside of what he had already done with Magnus. He looked helplessly up at him, confused at all the options Magnus was suddenly giving him. The first time had been a lot easier; Magnus had taken and he had given. He wanted to go back to that.

“I…I don’t know. Please, you decide,” he begged.

Magnus nodded. “Very well, get on the bed on all fours; it will hurt less than being on your back,” Magnus ordered, his anticipation of what was to come combined with his Warlock stamina meant he was already getting hard again.

“Yes, Prince,” Alec acknowledged, relieved at the clear command and comforted by the clear concern for his comfort.

He found it was much easier like this; with Magnus saying precisely what he wanted from him. He quickly got on the bed on all fours, feeling exposed but also excited.

“I do love seeing you so open and inviting for me,” Magnus said seductively as he moved to stand at the end of the bed, looking at him.

“Thank you, Prince,” Alec got out, wishing he would do something, touch him…anything.

“I wish you could see what I see when I look at you. So pretty and all mine,” Magnus mumbled, his breath hot against Alec’s asscheek as his finger danced around the rim.

“Please,” Alec mumbled, the plea slipping from his lips as the drugs made it easy for his mind to give itself over to the arousal he was feeling.

“You are so pretty when you beg,” Magnus praised, his voice filled with hunger as he snapped his fingers and three of them were magically lubed. He pushed the first one in halfway.

“Th…Thanks,” Alec breathed, his brain fuzzy, unsure what he was saying thanks for. He instinctively pushed back against the finger, enjoying the slight burn and the feeling of having something inside of him. Thoughts threatened to overwhelm him, to tell him he should snap out of it but the drugs kept them away and he could enjoy it and just give in.

“More?” Magnus asked with a smirk, knowing the answer since Alec had pushed back with such force he had now taken the finger all the way in and he started to move it in and out in slow motions.

“Please, yes,” Alec begged, the plea coming easier each time he said it.

“Fuck, you look so amazing like this – all eager and needy,” Magnus said hotly as he added a second finger, pushing it all the way in the first go.

“Fuck!” Alec swore as the second finger was added, stretching him further as Magnus started to scissor his fingers. Each time Magnus pushed back inside of him Alec pushed back to meet him, eagerly taking more inside himself.

“Just like that. You are doing so well,” Magnus praised, feeling Alec didn’t need much preparation as he was already loose from the multiple times he had claimed him the first night together.

“More, please,” Alec plead, his desire and begging falling much more easily now, made easier by Magnus’ praise and encouragement, convincing Alec he was doing the right thing now, that it was alright.

“Come, show me how much you want it,” Magnus said huskily as he added a third finger, pushing all three all the way in.

“Yes!” Alec cried as he pushed back, his mind starting to completely disappear and he was drowning in the sensations.

“Ready for me now?” Magnus asked from somewhere, Alec’s mind was too far gone in its drug and arousal induced state to ready register it or much care.

“Yes, please, yes!” Alec said eagerly, nodding to emphasize his agreement, his cock rock hard and his whole body seemingly waiting for just that.

“Tell me how much you want it,” Magnus ordered, fucking him with his fingers and enjoying how Alec was meeting him thrust after thrust.

The painkillers really seemed to have helped him let go and Magnus was starting to understand why Mundanes were often drunk the first time they had sex.

“Please…I….” Alec started to say but this time his brain hadn’t quite gone far enough to let the words slip and they got stuck in his throat.

Begging for another man to fuck him would go against everything he had been taught in Idris, everything Valentine had literally tried to beat into him and for a moment his brain was annoyingly clear.

“Come on, you can do it,” Magnus coaxed, his voice somewhere between a command and encouragement as he continued to finger fuck him.

Magnus’ words, the drugs in his system and the amazing sensations Magnus was forcing from his body combined with Alec’ determination to seize this moment to learn to let go he finally managed to find the words, “I….I…need it.”

Hesitant, stammering and spoken very lowly he had still managed to say it and Alec felt a sense of pride at that, fighting the embarrassment and shame for domination, his cheeks flushed.

“That’s a good boy. So good,” Magnus praised and Alec felt his sense of pride and achievement of what he had said beat down the embarrassment and shame.

Magnus removed his fingers and Alec made a small noise of protest before he could stop himself. But before he could beg Magnus had bottomed out inside of him.

“Fuck!” Alec got out, the burn and stretch combining with the sensation of being full overwhelming, combining pain and pleasure in a mix he was starting to know well.

Magnus stayed still for a second before he started to move in and out with quick and deep thrusts.

“You take my cock so well,” Magnus praised as he picked up speed and depth, angling himself just right so he was hitting Alec’s prostate on each thrust, his fingers leaving red marks on his ass as he used it for leverage to pistol himself in and out.

“Fuck, yes!” Alec cried, getting lost in the sensations once more, pushing back against him to take even more inside.

“Need me to go harder?” Magnus asked with a knowing grin as he saw Alec instinctively try to impale himself further on his cock.

“Yes! Please, yes!” Alec cried and gave a sharp yell when Magnus did just that; pushing inside of him so deeply and brutally he almost felt like he was being split in two.

Magnus kept up the brutal pace and Alec met him thrust for thrust, his brain finally silent, nothing but the amazing sensations of pain and pleasure left and he moaned loudly, adding a ‘please’ here and there because he wanted to…because right now he was able to.

“So tight. As if you were made just for me,” Magnus mumbled lustfully as he kept pounding in and out of him, enjoying how his cock disappeared back inside his very own Nephilim, who was taking him so eagerly, greedily.

“Shit! I….I’m close,” Alec mumbled frantically, feeling his orgasm building, leaking pre-come. He was unsure if he could come without Magnus giving the order; it had made it easier before, as if it wasn’t quite as ‘wrong’ to come when it was an order. However, the drugs in his system also meant his control of his body was weaker and he was able to relax and let go…maybe also of this.

“Not yet!” Magnus ordered sharply, feeling Alec’s body start to shake under him.

“Fuck!” Alec cried, fighting to hold on, unsure if he could stand it until Magnus allowed him to come. He felt like he was balancing on a knife edge and it was the most excruciatingly arousing thing he had ever experienced.

“You feel so amazing,” Magnus said in a voice filled with hunger and desire, as he pulled out only to slam so hard back inside Alec for a moment thought he would break and yet enjoying every bit of it.

“Fuck! I can’t…I need…” Alec mumbled fervently, sweating from the strain and more and more certain he could come without Magnus saying so now but not wanting to, certain he wasn’t supposed to, fighting to hold back.

“Then come!” Magnus ordered, letting a hint of magic sweep through Alec like an electric current as he smacked his ass hard with his right hand.

Alec gave a slight jerk at the smack and the heat it generated. The order released him from his sweet torment of trying to hold back and helped on by the magic Magnus had put through his body he came explosively. He fought to keep up on all fours as dots appeared before his eyes and was relieved when he felt Magnus wrapped his right arm around his waist and added a touch of magic, keeping him in place. Alec’s brain was completely gone and his body felt weak and boneless. He wanted to try and help Magnus get off before he became too sensitive but found he didn’t have to; after another thrust the Warlock come deep inside of him with a harsh grunt. Alec barely felt it when Magnus slipped from his body, still completely out of it.

Alec felt oddly cared for when Magnus helped him lay gently down on the bed and then laid down next to him after he, with a snap of his fingers, had them both cleaned up and had a blanket cover them. They lay side by side, looking at each other and Alec was stuck by how peaceful Magnus looked, post-orgasmic bliss making him almost shine. Magnus reached out and wiped some hair from his forehead tenderly and Alec smiled widely at him, his brain still lost somewhere.

“Wow. That was…wow,” Alec got out, looking at him in wonder.

Sex felt a lot better when he had allowed himself to fully let go. It had felt good before but with his mind at peace, giving into his desires…it was truly amazing.

Magnus smiled, a hint of pride and contentment in it.

“You are really cute when you’re high….and fucked out of your mind,” Magnus said in a warm and teasing tone.

“Well, you looked pretty content after you came down my throat,” Alec teased back with a smile and then paled when he realized what he had said.

“Shit! I’m so sorry, Prince,” Alec hastily said, eying him nervously.

Magnus laughed and shook his head.

“No, don’t worry. As I told you when we are in bed together you can tell me anything. In fact, I like it when you say such things. You are right. I did enjoy it a lot,” Magnus said with a warm but sexy smile. He paused as he leaned closer and said with dark promise, “I plan to make good use of your mouth and throat in the future.”

Alec blushed, liking the sound of that. “I…Yes, Prince.”

“Would you like that? Being on your knees with my cock in your mouth?” Magnus asked, his breath hot against his cheek.

“I….” Alec started to say but his mind was slowly starting to return and the combination of sex and kneeling in the same sentence was still difficult to admit to liking.

“Honestly now, pet. I will know if you lie,” Magnus said with a hint of warning.

“Yes,” he admitted in a small voice, blushing but managing to keep looking at him.

Magnus smirked at the reply in satisfaction but then asked a bit puzzled, “Why do you blush at admitting that? There’s no shame in sex. It’s a natural thing.”

“Maybe but I want it….” He paused and added in a low whisper, “I like that you use me like that and that I am on my knees and your hand in my hair and....” his voice died away as he felt as if he was unable to add further details without dying from shame, even with the drugs aiding his tongue.

“Yes, I can tell,” Magnus smirked.

“What’s wrong with me?” Alec asked softly, a hint of curiously and dread, repeating his earlier question.

Was he actually enjoying fulfilling this part of the deal? Wasn’t that…bad? Wasn’t it supposed to be bad? Wrong?

“Wrong? What do you mean?” Magnus asked confused.

“It’s not natural to want to submit like that,” Alec insisted in a small voice, self-hatred clear in his words.

“Darling, no sex if it’s consensual can be wrong,” Magnus said matter of fact. “Besides, kneeling is not submission. It might be surrender but it is not submission,” Magnus paused, reflecting on what Alec had told him about Idris and what he already knew before he added, “I also think it’s easier for you if you think there’s no choice – makes it easier to give into the desire after being told growing up it’s not right.”

“In Idris being made to kneel is considered very embarrassing and humbling,” Alec said honesly.

“Yes. Interestingly, in my years I have found those of angel blood naturally find release in submission,” Magnus mused aloud, thinking back on his many encounters with angel blooded creatures during his long life.

“What do you mean?” Alec asked puzzled. That was certainly not what they taught in Idris.

“My general and friend, Lorenzo, has a theory on the matter. I am sure you remember him from the courtyard and have heard of him in Idris,” Magnus said, looking at him for confirmation and Alec nodded.

As a member of the War Council Lorenzo was on Valentine’s list of high value targets; people he would love to have as his prisoners but if they couldn’t be captured there were standing orders to kill them on sight.

“Well, Lorenzo will tell you up and down about his theory on the matter which goes something like this; Angels were made to submit and obey God and Heavens’ commands without question and without delay. Demons were made to rebel and seek power. It therefore falls naturally to those with Angel blood to submit while those of demon blood seek to dominate.”

Alec looked at him with wide eyes. So maybe his desires were not that unusual…maybe not even wrong.

“Oh…truly? It might be a ….instinct?” he asked hesitantly, hopeful.

Magnus shrugged before replying honestly, “I don’t know. But I do know I believe we should never be ashamed of our needs.”

“So Warlocks and vampires are naturally dominating?” Alec asked, fascinated and wanting to understand the Downworld better.

Alec was starting to realize he couldn’t rely on anything he had been taught in Idris regarding the Downworld and their way of life, except how to kill Downworlders. That part had obviously been right.

“Warlocks in particular are quite possessive; yes. Warlocks are the most demonic of all the Downworlder races as we all have a demon parent. Vampires can be either but not necessarily any of those two; they used to be Mundanes after all. Seelies I know have normally been more like Mundanes; I guess their angel and demon blood cancel each other out in this way.”

“How about Wolves?” Alec asked intrigued.

This was nothing like the history of Downworlders they were thought. In Idris they were told Downworlders were controlled by their basic instincts and were in general uncontrollable. Shadowhunters on the other hand were completely in control and strong and had to remain so always.

“You mean the Omegas? Those who bow before the Alpha?” Magnus guessed, knowing that the pack mentality of wolfs often confused many who didn’t know about the race.

Alec nodded, “Yes.”

“All wolves must bow before the Alpha to acknowledge leadership but Omega wolves never challenge the ruling Alpha,” Magnus explained, keeping his explanations brief and didn’t add too many details, not wanting his explanations to get complicated.

“They submit?” Alec questioned.

Magnus nodded, “Yes.”

“Valentine said they were the female wolves.”

“That’s not true. There are Alphas and Omegas among any gender. Alphas are simply the ones who, theoretically, might challenge the ruling Alpha for leadership. Omegas seek to unify and keep the peace – be it as warriors, in business or in the home,” Magnus clarified.

“Oh,” Alec said thoughtfully. Omega warriors who would be respected in battle as warriors but who would have no issue with conceding power and control. He had never heard of it before. It was interesting.

“Alexander, does your women not fight?” Magnus asked, knowing the answer but needing Alec to say it so he could reach the logical conclusion.

“Well, yes,” Alec said, a bit confused by the question. Obviously they did; some of their best warriors were women, like his sister.

“Then why would you believe it when they said only females could be Omegas?” Magnus asked matter of fact.

“Well…because of the…submission thing,” Alec said and then blushed as he realized what he said, “Yes, that sounds dumb. You should see my sister in battle; she is certainly not weak.”

“I am sure. Even for a Warlock as old as I am Idris does seem to hold to quite archaic customs,” Magnus said with a nod, recalling the beautiful girl he had given to the Seelie King. He wasn’t surprised Idris deep down still held gender biases; as a warrior society it was likely a leftover from the fact that women would find it difficult, though not impossible by any means, to fight while pregnant or while breastfeeding a baby. Accidently, Magnus had seen women fight while doing both and what fierce warriors they had been!

“I am starting to realize Idris taught us all many lies,” Alec admitted thoughtfully.

“Well, to your credit so far I have only seen you indicate you bought into them when it mattered to yourself and your own feelings,” Magnus said. At Alec’s questioning look he added, “Their views on homosexuality and submission.”

“I…tried,” Alec said matter of fact. He had fought to keep an open mind, to not lose himself and his values but it was difficult when all he saw and was taught was this.

Rays of sunlight shone in Magnus’ eyes and he looked out the window, noticed the sun had risen further in the sky and realized he was getting hungry and was certain Alec would be too as he had fallen asleep yesterday from exhaustion without having eaten anything.

“You must be hungry. Here,” Magnus said and with a wave of his hand two trays of food appeared on the bed, one before each of them and he sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard. Alec quickly copied him.

They both had juice, coffee, soft-boiled eggs and a bowl with cereal. Alec’s also had a croissant, two buns, bacon, slices of cheese and jam on the side as well as a chocolate muffin as Magnus figured he would be hungrier than he himself felt.

Alec eyed the food with wonder and awe. So much food! Such special food! Maybe this was a special day for Magnus to offer such rare things to someone.

“I…I can eat it…can I, Prince?” Alec asked hopefully, salivating as he looked from the tray of food in front of him to the Prince by his side.

“Of course.” Magnus agreed, smiling as he nodded. “And since we are kind of playing hooky till my War Council meeting…” Magnus said and snapped his fingers and they both had champagne glasses with an orange liqueur in them.

“What’s hooky?” Alec asked curiously as only his Shadowhunter reflexes prevented him from dropping the glass that suddenly appeared in his hand and he eyed it inquisitively.

Magnus was unsure if Alec was trying to pretend not to know but he seemed sincere so he explained, “Skipping out on certain obligations on purpose.”

“I don’t think I have ever done that,” Alec admitted.

“Well, this is your first then,” Magnus said with a smirk, guessing that would be why he was not familiar with the term for the activity either. He guessed there was not much opportunity for play and games when raised to kill Downworlders from birth.

“What is this?” Alec asked, looking at the orange drink in the champagne glass, inspecting it.

“Mimosa. The best cocktail to start the day with,” Magnus insisted with a grin as he downed half of his in one go.

Looking at him Alec nipped at his mimosa. It wasn’t bad; the bubbles felt a bit weird in his mouth.

“It’s…nice,” he said dutifully when Magnus looked at him before he put the glass aside on the bedside table and looked at the food, trying to decide what to eat first.

“Well, we can try a Bloody Mary next; they are not bad either to start the day with,” Magnus said and Alec looked puzzled at him, wondering if the cocktail actually had blood in it but assumed not if it was not made for a vampire. Maybe the drink had been invented by a vampire?

“Your clock says it’s not even eight,” Alec pointed out as he looked at the clock on the bedroom wall as he started with the bacon, quickly eating it with his fingers.

“All the better. No one should ever go through the day sober,” Magnus said with a smirk as he finished his mimosa and then magically refilled his glass. Alcohol and sex; a time honored Warlock remedy against all types of dark thoughts; guaranteed to make any day easier to get through and when one had eternity and therefore also quite a few regrets and losses to deal with then it was just good sense.

“This food is amazing,” Alec said between bites, finishing off the bacon, the egg and the cereal and was about to attack the croissant with such eagerness that it was clear he was fearing it would disappear any moment now.

“You can breathe, you know,” Magnus reminded him as he finished his egg before taking another sip of his mimosa, looking at Alec with something between amusement and wonder if they had really not had something like this in Idris. Life must be truly dull there.

Alec looked a bit sheepish but continued his attack on the food as he hadn’t ordered him to stop.

“Sorry. It’s just…I am not used to such amazing stuff,” he got out between two bites of bun with cheese.

“It’s just breakfast,” Magnus said as he finished his bowl with cereal and took a sip of coffee.

Having only the muffin left on his plate Alec eyed it in shock and wonder.

“Is that…Is there….is this real…chocolate?” he gasped, looking at Magnus as if he had just giving in the Cullinan Diamond.

“It’s a chocolate muffin with chocolate pieces in it so yes,” Magnus confirmed with some amusement and puzzlement as he finished his coffee.

“Wow….I….” Alec got out, his eyes teary.

Real chocolate! He hadn’t had that since Jace’s birthday party and he had given the only chocolate piece he had been given to Andrew and had insisted to him he should eat it all, that he had had plenty. He tried to recall when he himself had last tasted it. He had been a child…maybe around nine? He thought he didn’t like sweet things that much but he wasn’t sure if it was true or something he had told himself when he had no longer gotten any.

“You don’t like it?” Magnus asked, unsure how to interpret his reaction.

“NO!” Alec said fearfully, taking the muffin up into his hands and cupped his hands around it, afraid he would take it away. At Magnus’ surprised look he quickly relented and added softly, pleadingly, aware he had fucked up, “Sorry, Prince. What I meant was I love it. Thank you. Please. Don’t take it away, please.”

“I won’t.” Magnus promised, shaking his head, a bit stunned by the reaction to a single muffin. “In fact if you like it so much….” With a hand movement he had conjured up a whole tray of them, unsure why he did it until he saw Alec smile impulsively in awe and wonder when he saw the tray; then he knew precisely why he did it.

“Wow! Prince! I…!” Alec got out, overwhelmed and a lump in his throat.

With his normal inhibitions lowered, the post-sex orgasm still in his body and in general feeling floaty and overwhelmed he impulsively hugged Magnus before he hastily and sheepishly pulled back.

“Sorry, I….it’s just…No one before has ever…” Alec stammered, blushing at what he had just done and how he had let the moment overwhelm him. He looked down, embarrassed.

Magnus took a hand on his chin and tipped his face up so he could look at him.

“Don’t apologize for that. I liked it,” Magnus said sincerely, feeling emotional himself. People rarely hugged him, for good reason. In private a few of his friends could do it like everyone on the War Council, Catarina… but it was a handful of people. Everyone else had to keep a respectful distance, bending the knee, and Magnus enforced this strictly, knowing one weakness could mean the whole Alliance crumbled if another Downworlder got the idea he/she could take him on.

“I…Thank you,” Alec got out, surprised at the tenderness in Magnus’ gaze.

Then the moment was broken and Magnus withdrew his hand.

“I really like you like this. So open,” Magnus admitted as he drowned half of what was left of his mimosa. “You look…young.”

“I’m not that young.” Alec protested. “Shadowhunters can go to war from when they are 10 though most wait till they are 12.”

“I know. Hence my standing order never to kill anyone under that age unless it’s self-defense,” Magnus said with a hint of contempt in his voice, reminding him of their talk regarding Max when Alec had made his deal.

“You seem surprised?” Alec asked curiously as he took the tiniest bite of the muffin and closed his eyes as he enjoyed it. The muffin had an unusual combination of sweet and bready…it was nice.

“Alexander, I am immortal. 10 years is still a baby for me. It is barely a blink of the eye,” Magnus reminded him.

“I suppose so,” Alec agreed as he took another bite of the muffin, enjoying each bite with relish.

Magnus looked amused at him as he finished the first muffin and was about to reach for a second on the separate tray before he forced himself to try the juice and coffee first.

“So…how old are you?” Magnus asked curiously. He had seemed older when they had been enemies, his battle plans had been well thought out and he had been hard to outsmart. However, seeing him here up close he seemed quite young, almost too young at times.

“I’m almost 20,” Alec said as he gave up pretending he didn’t want a second muffin and snatched it off the separate tray before it could disappear as magically as it had appeared.

Magnus laughed, a bit surprised at the answer, “Still a pup.”

“What? No, Prince. Almost 20,” Alec insisted between bites of chocolate muffin which kind of ruined his insistence that he was all grown-up, as it made him look young.

“Darling, anyone still saying almost before their age is young,” Magnus said with a teasing smirk as he drank more of his mimosa.

“Not too young to fuck apparently, Prince,” Alec reminded him matter of fact and his candor caught Magnus by surprise for a moment before he gave a short laugh. It had apparently also caught Alec by surprise who had a look of horror on his face until he heard Magnus laugh, making him relax again.

“Fortunately not,” Magnus agreed with a heated look but then frowned in concern. “But….How old are Jace and your sister then?”

“Jace is 17 and Izzy is 16.”

Magnus nodded, relieved, “That’s considered of age also in the Downworld.”

“And if it wasn’t?” Alec asked curiously. He guessed age would have to be an unusually fluid concept for Downworlders; people could look 15 but be 200 years old.

“Well, then I would have sent off fire messages both to the Seelie King and Luke who will be Jace’s Alpha that they can’t engage in any sexual activities until they are of age,” Magnus explained matter of fact.

Alec gave him a surprised look. The Prince kept surprising him.

“Valentine would not consider such things for his prisoners,” Alec said honestly.

“Alexander, Jace and your sister are not prisoners; your deal ensured that,” Magnus reminded him, restraining from adding that if they had been prisoners they would all right now be in the dungeons being tortured for information; likely till they died or left them in such a state they wished they were.

“Your sister belongs to the Seelie King and he is clearly smitten with her. If she plays her cards right she could rise higher now than she could as a Lightwood,” Magnus mused aloud.

“How so?” Alec asked intrigued, liking the idea of his sister having a good life.

“Seelies consider non-Seelies as one of them if they marry. If the King took her not as his property but raised her up not just as a mistress but as a consort she would rule the Seelie realm by his side and would kneel only to him,” Magnus explained matter of fact. He had seen the way the Seelie King had looked at her, how he had treated her. It would not be a surprising turn of events.

“And you,” Alec reminded him.

Magnus nodded. “Yes, and me.”

“Seelie Queen. It would suit Izzy,” Alec said fondly with a dreamy look.

“Consort. She could never be queen as she has no royal blood,” Magnus corrected him.

“Would it be the same if you married?” Alec asked curiously.

Magnus nodded. “Yes.”

“And…” Alec was about to ask about Jace but forced himself not to; after the other night it seemed like a very bad idea to bring him up, in particular as it seemed like they were finally moving ahead and finding a bit of a balance. So instead he finished off his second chocolate muffin, moaning in pleasure.

“Done eating?” Magnus asked with some amusement when he was done.

“Yes, if I eat any more I will explode. Prince, thank you so much for all of this!” Alec said happily with a contented smile.

Magnus shook his head fondly as he, with a snap of his fingers, made their food and trays disappear.

“You are just adorable, pup!” Magnus said delightfully.

“Prince, what may I do for you to please go back to pet or anything else than pup?” Alec pleaded, groaning inwardly at the nickname.

Magnus raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Not a fan?”

“Not really, Prince,” Alec admitted.

“Well, I shall try and limit my use of it, pup,” Magnus said with a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“Are you….joking, Prince?” Alec asked hesitantly.

“Maybe,” Magnus admitted as he finished his mimosa and made the glass disappear.

“I haven’t seen you do that before,” Alec admitted softly, smiling a bit.

Magnus got serious again, reflecting. “I used to do it a lot. Flirting, joking…partying.”

“Really?” Alec asked intrigued.

“I don’t look it?” Magnus asked with mock offence.

“You have a look but you have always appeared so….in control, strong…serious, Prince,” Alec admitted frankly, referring to his extravagant clothes, make-up and style in general.

“Before the war started I drifted through life by throwing endless parties. Believe me; there isn’t the sex act, drug or alcohol I haven’t tried,” Magnus said matter of fact.

“Oh….That is difficult to picture, Prince,” Alec admitted. Ok, not the sex, drugs and alcohol part. He could actually quite clearly picture that and it was more than a little arousing.

“I used to own several night clubs too,” Magnus recalled with something between fondness and loss in his voice.

“Sounds interesting,” Alec admitted, fascinated by who Magnus had been before the war. He certainly sounded different from the fierce commander of the Allied forces who had beaten him on the battlefield more times than he cared to recall.

“I sold my clubs when I started to form the Allied forces,” Magnus said with a shrug and felt like he needed a drink so he conjured up a Bloody Mary and took a large sip.

“Why?” Alec asked surprised.

“I had to liquefy some assets,” Magnus explained matter of fact. At Alec’s puzzled look he went on, “When the war first started I had only my close personal friends on my side and then I got the werewolves when Luke became Alpha and he owed me,” Magnus told him, as he took another sip of his drink. It was nice being able to explain this, to talk to someone like this. It was what he had hoped the deal could give him.

“I am sorry, Prince, but I do not understand,” Alec admitted with a frown.

“I needed money to help me pay some Warlocks to aid me to show evidence of what Valentine was doing. After that though it was ease…only made easier by Valentine starting to torture and murder our kind left and right of course,” Magnus said darkly.

“So the Downworld never threatened Idris in the early days?” Alec asked surprised.

“No. In fact I went to Idris to bargain for peace when Valentine had first risen to power before war had broken out,” Magnus said grimly, fighting not to recall how disastrously wrong that had gone.

“They never told us that,” Alec admitted.

“I wouldn’t expect Valentine to know what the truth was if it hit him in the face with a shovel,” Magnus said darkly as he finished off his Bloody Mary before conjuring up another.

Alec giggled at the mental image.

“I would pay to see that,” Alec said with dark amusement.

Magnus couldn’t help but smile at the adorable sound of his giggles.

“You are a truly delightful creature, Alexander.”

“Not really,” Alec said softly, his expression darkening. “You were right when we first talked. I always knew what Valentine was doing was wrong and I still did nothing.”

“Not everyone can,” Magnus said matter of fact.

“But that’s just it…I could,” Alec insisted.

“Because you were a general?”

“No, not that,” Alec said dismissively. “The title was mostly a joke, a scorn. Officially it appeased my parents and the deal they had made but everyone around me knew I was barely more than Valentine’s dog on a leash,” Alec said with self-loathing clear in his voice.

“I can’t forgive you for your involvement in harming my people but I can tell you I admire that that monster never truly managed to break you,” Magnus said after a few moments of reflective silence.

“Maybe he did. I stopped trying to escape. I stopped fighting back,” Alec admitted in a small and defeated voice, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“If you wanted to live that was just smart,” Magnus agreed without judgement. He had already explained to Alec that he felt sometimes the right decision would be not to live so he saw no reason to repeat it.

“I want to say I only wanted to live to ensure Andrew was protected but…” Alec took a deep breath. “I guess I am too stubborn to want to die even when I should.”

“If you had asked me last week I would say that it was a shame we were enemies. If you ask me now I will say I am grateful for it led you to me and I believe that will end up being beneficial not only to me but to the whole Shadow World,” Magnus said thoughtfully, reflectively. Alec had too much potential not to do something with it; in fact, it would be a shame not to exploit it, exploit him, for the benefit of his people.

“I….Hope so,” Alec admitted softly. “I would like the chance to redeem myself.”

“I am happy to hear you say that,” Magnus admitted, filing that under useful information to use in the future. He finished his drink and made the glass disappear before changing the topic. “Now, want to take a bath with me?”

“A bath, Prince?” Alec echoed, surprised by the change in topic.

“Yes, darling,” Magnus said with a smile as he got off the bed and looked at him expectantly.

Alec hurried to get off the bed too and quickly knelt by his feet, awaiting an order.

“You are getting quite good at kneeling, surrendering. Let’s try and talk a bit today about your submission,” Magnus said as he stroked his hair to let him know he wasn’t angry with him.

Alec frowned in confusion. “Am I not doing that, Prince?”

“When we are having sex we are getting there but in general…no.”

“I’m...sorry. I am not sure I understand then,” Alec admitted.

Magnus took a hand under his chin, tipping his head up. Alec kept his eyes on the floor. They were out of bed; the rules were different now. He had learned that much at least.

“Look at me,” Magnus ordered, not unkindly, and Alec did so. “I get the feeling you are afraid to fully give yourself to me,” he said and gave him a searching look.

“I…” Alec started to say, unsure how to respond to that.

“Let’s finish this talk somewhere more comfortable,” Magnus decided. “Stand up and follow me.”

Mutely Alec rose and followed him into the master bathroom. Magnus waved his hand, and water started to flow into the tub.

“Would you like to take a bath alone or with me?” Magnus asked evenly as he looked at him.

“With you, Prince,” Alec said softly, keeping his eyes to the floor. He wanted to hear what he had to say and this morning hadn’t been unpleasant. It had actually come close to being one of the better mornings of his life.

“You can say without,” Magnus reminded him.

“I know…now, but I still choose with you, Prince,” Alec repeated.

“I can’t deny I am happy to hear that,” Magnus said with a smile in his voice that made Alec want to smile too for some reason. Magnus took his hand and guided him over to the side of the bath.

“Have you never had a bath before?” Magnus asked when he noticed the look of wonder when Alec looked down at the tub.

Alec shook his head. “No, Prince. Such things would be considered inefficient and wasteful in Idris. It does look amazing.”

“Yes, it is,” Magnus said with a smile. “Oh, I almost forgot. There,” he snapped his fingers and Alec felt something covered his back and the bandages running across his torso.

Looking at himself the bandages seemed to glow faintly with a blue light.

“What happened, Prince?” Alec asked surprised.

“I put a small layer of magic over your back and bandages. It now won’t get wet or hurt you to go into the tub or touch anything against your back,” Magnus explained.

“I….Thank you,” Alec said, overwhelmed, taken back by his consideration, forgetting he had been the one to put the scars there to start with.

Magnus smiled at that and went into the tub, sitting down with a satisfied smile and soft moan of contentment when he was fully submerged.

“Come, sit between my legs,” Magnus ordered softly, smiling up at him.

Alec slowly went into the tub and settled himself between Magnus’ legs. At first he seemed stiff and hesitant but then he relaxed and leaned against him.

“This is nice, Prince,” Alec said softly, his voice almost too low to hear, feeling almost dreamy from the combination of the painkillers, lack of sleep, the sex that had felt him feeling drained and aching in all the right ways and the overwhelming feeling of everything around him.

“It is,” Magnus agreed as he closed his arms around his chest and held him near. After a few moments of silence he asked, “Can you tell me a bit more about Valentine’s views on surrender and submission.”

“Valentine believes only the strong should survive,” Alec explained.

“And that means…” Magnus prompted.

“Firstly he considers all demon-blooded inferior as you know,” Alec started by saying.

“Yes, he somehow managed to get that message across,” Magnus said with dark humor and more than a hint of hatred.

“It also means he sees people in two ways; strong or weak,” Alec went on. “He believes everything is a battle. For example, for Jace to be strong he had to get a weak parabatai.”

“How were you weak?” Magnus asked puzzled. If there was one word he would never had used to describe Alec, as an enemy or now, it was weak.

“Did you miss the part where I stopped fighting him…Prince?” Alec just about managed to remember the title in his self-hatred. “I feared him, I did whatever he said.” He paused and drew a deep and pained breath, fighting to hold back memories as his cheeks flushed with humiliation. “I knelt for him. A lot. He did love to make me do that.”

“To humiliate you? Punish you?” Magnus guessed.

Alec nodded, a hint of remembered pain and humiliation in his eyes, he was happy Magnus couldn’t see. “Yes.”

“For Downworlders submission is a gift and that was the gift you offered me in this deal. Submission is always treasured among our kind; also when given by an enemy,” Magnus clarified, needing Alec to know that.

“It’s difficult to view it in a new light after so many years being taught differently,” Alec admitted softly. “You respected me as a general. What would you do now?”

“If you can submit, truly? Cherish you,” Magnus said honestly, having expected the question after what Alec had just told him.

Alec blushed at that; he had not expected to hear that. A part of him had kept thinking this was some game to get him to break.

“I…what?” He asked disbelieving. “Wouldn’t…wouldn’t you lose respect for me?”

Magnus shook his head even though Alec couldn’t see.

“On the contrary. I would respect you so much more,” Magnus said frankly, tightening his arms around his torso. “Trusting someone like that…it is a rare gift to give and should never be taken lightly.”

“I…” Alec started to say but then stopped. “I am not sure what to say….or think.”

“I know but all things considered I think you are doing well.”

“Really? I managed to break one of your rules literally minutes after we made the deal, Prince,” Alec reminded him with disbelief and a hint of self-hatred in his voice when he remembered that his slip-up had resulted in Andrew paying the price for it. He didn’t really consider the few lashes Magnus had given him for that as any real punishment considering what Valentine would consider punishment.

Magnus laughed a little at that. “True but you also seem to learn quicker.”

Alec smiled at that but then admitted frankly, “It’s easier now, last night and this morning, with the pills. It makes the voices in my head silent so I can….let go.”

Magnus nodded and said seriously, “I understand but when the pain stops the pills have to go.”

“Why, Prince? I like the feeling,” Alec insisted, pouting a bit at the idea.

“What do you mean?” Magnus asked, putting enough command in his voice for Alec to understand he expected a clear reply.

“Everything feels light and airy. I like it,” Alec said honestly and turned his head so he could smile up at him. “It makes everything easier.”

Magnus couldn’t help but smile back when he saw the open and honest look on his face.

“And I hope having tried that, now, in this way, it will be easier when you no longer need the pills for the pain,” Magnus said kindly but sternly.

“Why can’t I keep having them, Prince?” Alec almost sulked, his eyes pleading with him.

“Have you ever had Mundane medicine before?” Magnus asked him frankly.

“No. I have had to heal the Mundane way with bandages and such as part of punishments. I think I might once have had some white pills for pain but they never did this,” Alec admitted, unsure why that was important.

“Well, Catarina gave you strong painkillers; opioids. They work against pain, but can be addictive to Mundanes; I don’t know about Shadowhunters. I know they don’t work on Warlocks. Furthermore, they dull the senses,” Magnus warned.

“That sounds nice to me, Prince,” Alec insisted, referring to the part with the dulled senses. That was precisely why he liked them. It made it easier for him to push past the voices in his mind and the insecurities they were giving him.

Magnus shook his head, his eyes sharp and sure, his voice firm, “Not to me. I want you to be able to submit also when you are completely yourself.”

Alec bit his lower lip worried but then remembered and stopped. “I…I am not sure if I can,” he admitted frankly.

“I think you can; otherwise I would not have agreed to your deal and I don’t think you would have offered it if not you thought you could follow through,” Magnus said honestly. “I have a book I want you to read while I go attend to some business later today. It’s a book written by a Wolf called The art of submission in the Downworld. It might help you with some clarity and insights.”

Alec nodded, that sounded like a good idea.

“Thank you, Prince,” he said, smiling widely, freely up at him.

Magnus smiled at how adorable he looked and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Though despite what I said you are really endearing like this. I want you to try and work on remembering that so you will be freer like this around me in the future,” Magnus said with a smile as he stroked his cheek affectionately.

Alec nodded, filing it to memory. “Yes, Prince.”

Magnus kissed him again and enjoyed the dazed look in Alec’s eyes when he pulled back.

“Come, get up. The water is turning cold,” Magnus ordered but his tone was kind as he did a hand movement towards the bathroom floor.

Alec quickly rose and got out of the tub so Magnus could do likewise.

“Thank you,” Alec said heartfelt, looking down thoughtfully as Magnus wrapped himself in a tight bathrobe.

“Whatever for?” Magnus asked as he did a hand gesture and a large fluffy bathrobe appeared in his hand. He wrapped Alec in it. The Shadowhunter looked up at him with wide eyes, smiling contently. Magnus couldn’t help but smile back; he looked so small, cuddlable and simply adorable wrapped up in the white fluffy robe.

“For the bath…for taking care of me. No one has ever taken care of me before,” Alec admitted softly, looking at him with wide eyes filled with unspoken emotions.

Magnus smiled gently at him.

“Well, darling, submit to me and I could give you the world,” the Prince promised.

Overwhelmed Alec slowly went to his knees, keeping eye contact with Magnus all the way down. He felt no embarrassment now, no humiliation. He saw the admiration, the tenderness in Magnus’ eyes.

“My prince,” Alec breathed, looking up at him and smiled. When Magnus touched his face tenderly, he leaned towards the touch and closed his eyes, allowing himself to just feel Magnus, feel this. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to just give in, let go…and let someone else catch him. No, not someone else. Magnus. Specifically Magnus. He understood now that he didn’t seek to break him or destroy him or ridicule him. He wanted to care for him.

It could be untrue, a trick. But there was no reason to. If Magnus wanted him destroyed he could have. He had tried surrendering without submitting. Maybe it was time to fully try submitting and see if maybe that would bring him closer to something that might even someday be called happiness.