For the lovely Laura, via GGE. Enjoy my dear.

i.

"Why does Alec get his journal?" Isabelle demands with a huff. "I want one, too!"

"Because I'm twelve," Alec answers, smirking proudly as he holds up the jade journal in triumph. "I'm old enough now."

Isabelle snorts, standing on her tiptoes and trying to snatches the journal away. "You don't even need it," she teases. "Who would want to be stuck with you for the rest of her life?"

Alec pushes her, and she staggers but quickly collects herself again. Within moments, she's poised and ready to strike back.

"Enough, children!" their father says, stepping between them. "Izzy, when you're twelve, you'll get your own journal. Alec, don't shove your sister. Now, no more bickering. Your mother and I have things to work on."

Isabelle pouts, her arms folded over her chest. She shoots another dark glare at her brother before shrugging. "Fine," she grumbles.

Satisfied that Isabelle is done trying to take it from him, Alec holds the journal out before him, amazed. He's heard the stories, of course, legends passed down among Shadowhunters and Mundanes alike. Each journal has some sort of ancient magic woven into it, a way for soulmates to communicate before they meet.

"What if no one writes back?" he asks quietly. "What if Izzy is right, and no one wants me?"

His father sighs and ruffles his hair. "Then it means you'll have one less distraction from your training," he answers, and his words aren't particularly reassuring.

…

It's been a week, and Alec has been too scared to put pen to page. What if no one answers? What if whoever answers is horrible?

Worse still, what if he's right about himself? What if it's a boy who writes him back? What will he tell his parents when they ask questions about his journal?

He bites his lip and sits at his desk. A journal is not a menacing thing, and yet Alec thinks he would rather face a thousand demons, unarmed, than write in it.

Taking a deep breath, he grabs his pen. What does he even say? He doesn't know how to talk to people. Isabelle is a people person. Alec… not so much.

He scratches the pen quickly across the page, grimacing at his own penmanship.

Hello.

Such a stupid way to begin a conversation with his soulmate. He hates himself a little for being so bland.

I just got this journal. I don't even know if it will work. I don't know if there's even anyone out there for me.

By the Angel, he sounds pathetic.

Not that I care, of course. I don't really like people.

And now he sounds like an angsty teenager. Alec wishes he could erase the words, but they've already faded into the page.

…

"What's this?" Magnus muses as his journal glows softly.

He's almost forgotten about it. Century after century, it has remained silent. He'd come to believe that he doesn't have a soulmate. And yet, he's never been able to bring himself to throw it out. It's amazing magic, something even he doesn't quite understand. He's been planning to study it, to learn its secrets, but things have always gotten in the way.

He plucks the journal from the mess that covers his desk, opens it, and scans the words quickly.

"Marvelous. It seems that my soulmate is mopey," he snorts before snapping his fingers, a raven feather quill materializing.

Magnus frowns. He's always wondered what he would say if this moment ever arose. Now, all his plans seem to escape him.

Hello, there! Luckily for you, you have a soulmate. Even luckier, you have me for a soulmate, and I'm rather fabulous, if I do say so myself.

"Perfect!" he says proudly.

He starts to put the journal away, but new words appear where his had been.

Are you male or female?

Male. Does it really matter?

…

Alec swallows dryly. Male.

I guess not. My name is Alec Lightwood.

Ah. A Shadowhunter. Lucky me.

Alec can almost feel the sarcasm dripping from the page. He almost laughs. At least his soulmate knows about his kind.

Are you a Shadowhunter too? Or a Mundane?

He watches as little specks of ink litter the page, as though his soulmate is contemplating.

Neither.

How is that possible?

Ah, dear Alec (short for Alexander, I presume?). There is more than just two races in the world, you know.

Alexander, but please don't call me that. Are you a Downworlder? What's your name?

…

Magnus stares at the last question with a frown. He doesn't know if it would be safe to give his name. He's far too well-known, and he doubts that the Lightwood family has forgotten their constant annoyance with him.

He twirls the quill between his finger, pursing his lips. A Shadowhunter for a soulmate. Somehow, he's sure that the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. After all, mortals have such short lives, but Shadowhunters' lives are even more fleeting.

Warlock. It's probably best that you don't know my name.

Why not?

How would the Clave feel knowing that your soulmate is a Downworlder, Alexander?

I told you not to call me that.

You're avoiding the question.

At first, there is no answer. Magnus wonders if Alec has grown bored with him already, if he's decided that Magnus is too frustrating.

They wouldn't approve of it any more than they would approve of you being a boy.

Boy. Magnus can't help but to smile at the word. It makes him feel young again.

Then I suppose my name doesn't really matter, does it?

I'd still like to know.

Magnus snorts. Stubborn little thing, this Lightwood boy.

If this soulmate thing is true, and we're meant to be, I'm sure you will learn my name one day. When the time is right. Besides, you're still a kid. I'm not sure that it's appropriate quite yet. Be patient, Alexander.

Alec.

Magnus laughs.

II.

Are you sure you're not a Shadowhunter? And your name isn't Jace?

Alec paces nervously. Of course it isn't Jace. Jace had thrown his journal in the fireplace the moment he had a chance, muttering about how useless love is.

Really, Alexander, it's been three years since you've written, and now that you do, you decide to question my identity? What's this about?

Alec swallows dryly. Not Jace. It can't be Jace. But then why does he feel the way he does whenever Jace is around?

I think I'm in love with my parabatai. But if you're my soulmate, I don't understand.

He watches as the words disappear. He wonders how his soulmate will react. Will he be jealous? Alec hopes not. Even if they still haven't met, he can't imagine upsetting his soulmate.

The silence does nothing to ease his nerves. What if his soulmate never writes him again? He bites his lip until he can taste faint traces of blood on his tongue.

It's possible to fall in love with people who aren't your soulmate. Believe me, I've done it a few times. It doesn't always end pretty, I'm afraid.

Alec picks up his pen, but before he can answer, more words appear.

…

Are you sure that it's love and not lust? The two can blur together quite horribly. Another lesson I've learned over the centuries.

Magnus looks at Chairman Meow. "Oh, don't give me that face," he says sharply. "I can help him with his relationship advice. It isn't weird at all, thank you very much."

The cat mews, sniffs the air, and prances off. Magnus sticks his tongue out at him as he goes.

I don't know. I've never been in love before. How am I supposed to know?

Magnus strokes his chin in thought. Good question. He's fallen in love with many, fallen in lust with even more. Some days, he can't even remember who all he had actually loved at all.

You just know.

You just know? Yeah, that's really helpful, buddy.

Magnus snorts. "You know, Chairman Meow, I can't decide if his snark is charming or annoying," he says before remembering the cat has already left the room. "Oh, fine. Leave me here alone to struggle with my thoughts."

He sighs and returns his attention to the journal, shaking his head.

Well, it's been at least a few decades since I've been in love. Excuse me for being a bit rusty on the subject.

…

Decades. Plural. As in more decades than Alec has been alive. He shifts, slightly uncomfortable at the wording. But he's also said centuries.

How old are you, exactly?

"Still writing in that journal," Jace muses. "And yet you've never even bothered to try and find the lucky lady."

Alec scowls. "Shut up. Don't you have some training to do?"

"We had training to do," Jace corrects. "But someone decided to write in his journal instead."

Before Alec can respond, new words appear in the blank space.

Really, Alexander. It's not polite to ask someone's age. But if it helps, I met Marie Antoinette once.

Alec snorts.

"What's so funny?" Jace asks, reaching for the journal.

Alec pulls it back quickly, blushing. He holds it protectively against his chest.

Jace raises his brows, a smirk tugging at his lips. "She must be something special. Or are you composing naughty sonnets for her? That seems like a very Alec thing to do. Fine. I know when I'm not wanted. Do you want pizza or Chinese? Izzy is cooking again, so I'm saving us."

"Chinese," Alec answers.

Jace gives him a mock salute before turning on his heel. "As you wish," he says.

I think it's lust.

For Marie Antoinette? Well, if that's what floats your boat.

Not her. My parabatai.

Well, that's a relief. I would hate for it to be serious. Then I'd have to break his heart.

Alec laughs. He doesn't even know who his soulmate is, what he looks like, or even how old he is. But he's laughing and smiling, and he thinks that maybe he likes him already.

…

Magnus sets his quill aside, leaning back in his chair, a frown on his lips. He shouldn't worry. Really, he shouldn't. But he's seen too many cases where people fall in love with someone other than their soulmate.

"Doesn't matter," he tells himself firmly, nodding as though this will give more power to his words. "I'm immortal. It would be kinder for him to fall in love with someone else."

Still not going to tell me your name? I'm older now, so what's the problem?

It shouldn't matter, and yet it does. Magnus has grown quite fond of this one already.

He picks up the quill, a smirk on his lips as he replies.

Well, most people who know me just call me the greatest bane of their existence.

That's not very helpful.

More than you think. Goodnight, Alexander.

iii.

Alec scowls as he writes.

Safe to say you don't have to worry about Jace. There's this girl, Clary. Jace won't say it, but he has this stupid lovestruck look in his eyes. It's sickening.

Well, I was hardly worried about your parabatai, Alec. It sounded like a crush and nothing more.

Alec brushes his thumb over the pen, frowning. He should be relieved that Jace isn't the one. It gives him the opportunity to look for his actual soulmate.

The soulmate who won't even tell him his name.

Now we have to go to some stupid party because of the girl.

Oh, I love parties! You should have seen the ones I held in the 20s!

Alec snorts, shaking his head. Of course, that would be his luck. He couldn't be destined for someone who enjoys a quiet evening inside.

It's in Brooklyn. Someone named Magnus Bane.

Really? I'm going to the same party. Maybe I'll see you there.

…

"Oh, Clary," Magnus says, tucking his quill behind his ear. "I always knew you would be something special."

Do you know him?

Magnus chuckles. For a moment, he considers telling Alec the truth. Perhaps it's time to give himself up. But he's having too much fun.

Of course! He's only the most magnificent warlock to ever grace this country. Great hair. You'll probably fall in love with him the second you see him.

…

Alec doesn't know how to take that. Is his soulmate trying to tell him to find someone else? Is it some weird test? He bites his lip, trying to find the right response.

I doubt it. I'm supposed to fall in love with you, remember?

He doesn't know why his heart pounds so painfully in his chest as his words disappear. Hopefully it will be enough. Hopefully his soulmate will be happy.

I guess we'll see tonight. I'll need to get ready. Can't meet my soulmate looking like a hag, can I?

iv.

Alec can't help but to feel disappointed as he returns to his room. He didn't even have a chance to look for his soulmate because the stupid mundane had to ruin everything and get turned into a stupid rat.

He throws his journal onto the bed, swearing loudly. He's missed his chance. Who knows when he will have another opportunity.

But his soulmate had been right. Magnus is cute…

"Stop it," he says, shaking his head. "You have a soulmate. Don't go chasing silly crushes."

His journal glows faintly. Curious, Alec picks it up.

I always did have a thing for blue eyes. Yours are quite lovely.

You saw me? I didn't see you.

Oh, yes you did. Shame we didn't have a chance to canoodle in my room. But there will be time for that another day.

Alec's jaw drops as he slowly begins to understand. He pushes a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words to say.

It was nice meeting you, Alexander. I do hope you call on me again soon.