Cascade

xxx

Present

xxx

Magnus absently gazes across the roofs of Brooklyn from his seat at the open balcony doors, listening to the early morning sounds of the city, watching countless lights fading from windows and streets as the rising sun bathes New York's skyline in an orange glow.

It's the second morning since Alexander's disappearance and Magnus still isn't any closer to figuring out what happened to send his Shadowhunter through time and space, much less who might have been involved.

Jace and him have already spend two entire days combing through the city, knocking on doors - or knocking them down in some cases.

But still, so far nothing.

Sure, they haven't talked to all of the warlocks in NYC – much less the wider area of the East Coast – yet, so there is no way of knowing whether they will still find something. But they've already spoken to most of the more powerful warlocks around and he hopes that by tonight they'll have spoken to all warlocks who are powerful enough to even try their hand at the spells involved in the attack on Alexander and who are also old enough that they could potentially have the knowledge how to do so.

But at this point Magnus is almost certain they won't find anything, something telling him that there is something else, something he is missing.

It's not only the fact that this entire situation feels too convoluted, that there are too many factors to be taken into account, but it feels like there is one piece of the puzzle right in front of him, some sort of clue that he just can't seem to figure out.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest of his armchair.

It's only been two days, but, magic, does Magnus miss Alexander.

Honestly, he can't seem to think about anything else. And whenever he tries to distract himself even for a moment, his thoughts have the rather annoying tendency to just unceremoniously circle right back around to once more focus on his lovely Shadowhunter.

At least he isn't alone in this. Isabelle and Jace seem to have pretty much set up camp at Magnus' place, spending most of their time here or with him on his search, apparently having set everything else entirely aside, barely fulfilling their duties as Shadowhunters at all anymore, focusing everything they have – time and focus and strength – on their search for answers.

And Magnus can only be grateful that they have Jace's assurance of the parabatai bond still being intact as well as Magnus' almost-there memories of Alexander in the past reassuring them.

Those vague memories, images, sometimes fragments of conversations, memories that he knows weren't there before but have now seamlessly merged into the recollection of a past that Magnus hasn't quite lived but that is still his own.

Which is actually the reason why he is awake right now.

Because just like yesterday morning, his magic is once more clamoring, tumultuous, once more vibrating with anticipation. Like yesterday when something took hold of reality, shifting, twisting things-that-were as it pleases, and only his own magic letting Magnus avoid losing himself to it as well, avoid the change taking hold of him entirely.

This feeling of anticipation of things to come is what had woken Magnus even earlier than usual and now he is entirely unable to fall back asleep as he waits, maybe for reality to be altered just like yesterday, maybe for something else entirely to happen. He doesn't know what his magic is waiting for. But at least this time he is prepared, already having locked himself and his magic and his memories in their current state, not to be touched by anyone's interference even if he can't do anything about reality itself being shifted around him.

So, he sits there, watching the sun rise over New York City, and he waits.

And when that shift finally takes hold of him once more, he just makes sure that his hold on his entire self is immutable, before he lets himself drift with the universe changing around him, things altering, staying the same, shifting just slightly, bending, a barely there twist of things from as-they-once-were into as-they-are-now.

And once it is over, Magnus continues to absently gaze across the roof tops, letting his mind sort through the new memories of Alexander, this time in Seville, surrounded by the children from the Haven, looking so absolutely, unrestrainedly happy in those brief glimpses Magnus suddenly finds added to his memories that his heart twinges with something nostalgic, something almost like homesickness.

Because even here, in his own apartment, in his city, surrounded by his own possessions - memories of decades and centuries past collected around him - it still doesn't quite feel like home.

Because there is something essential missing.

And Magnus desperately wants him back at his side.

xxx

1790

xxx

Berlin might just turn out to be Alec's favorite stop on his odd trip through time.

Although, that has admittedly very little to do with the city of Berlin itself, considering that Alec hasn't actually gotten to see anything beyond Magnus' apartment so far.

There is some sort of freak storm raging outside ever since he got here, rain and snow and hail all mixed together, making even the thought of going outside for some sightseeing seem ridiculous.

And pretty much as soon as Magnus has assimilated the new-old memories of their time in Paris as well as Seville - the memories which had apparently both been taken once more and then also returned in the same manner as before upon Alec once more crashing to the floor of his living room – the warlock immediately offers to take them somewhere nicer, somewhere warmer and sunnier and better suited to sightseeing.

But Alec still remembers rather clearly just how draining the magical travel without portals had been for Magnus between Paris and Kathmandu and seeing as the portal still hasn't been invented yet, Alec suggests they just wait out the storm instead.

Now it's day four of Alec's time in Berlin and the weather has yet to let up.

Still, he maintains that staying here was actually one of his better ideas.

Because instead of going out as they had in Paris and in Seville - instead of touring the city, meeting people, seeing places, trying new things - they just spend the days together, not leaving the apartment at all.

Magnus magics them the food they want, they talk and they read and Alec adores having this time to just be. It's like a wonderful little bubble of their very own, a place where only the two of them exist and the outside world simply fades away.

And the best part about it all is that they mostly just end up on the couch together, reading or talking, Alec more often than not lying either halfway on Magnus' chest or just with his head in Magnus' lap as he listens to the warlock read to him out loud.

At some point Alec gives up reading his own books entirely, just relaxes and listens to Magnus' warm and lilting voice read to him. It doesn't even really matter whether it's about the theory of potion brewing, about demon lore, from a fiction novel, or even some poetry.

He just closes his eyes and listens.

And when the storm finally does let up on the fifth day of his stay here, they do actually go out a bit, so Alec does in fact get to see some of Berlin, another old European city with a lot of history, grandiose palaces built for royalty, mixed with narrow alleyways crammed full of life.

But it's still cold and less-than-friendly outside, so the few times they do venture outside, they tend to return quickly to Magnus' apartment, continue spending most of their time inside on the couch, where it's just the two of them, no interruptions, no responsibilities, not even the thought of missing out on anything going on in the outside world. And Alec feels himself relax in a way he can't recall ever having done before.

He honestly adores it.

And when on the evening of his seventh day there, Alec tilts his head slightly so that he can better focus on Magnus' face as he reads to him - both of them fully aware that Alec will likely be pulled away again in a few hours - he thinks to himself that this right here might just be his new absolute favorite thing to do in the entire world.

And it's definitely something to be repeated in the future.

xxx

Present

xxx

Magnus absently sips on his drink, one shoulder leaning against the door to the balcony, watching the countless lights of the city flicker and change around him.

Another day without Alexander, another deluge of images and scenes and snippets added to his memories.

He now remembers Alexander in Paris, Magnus himself still so very rattled from his rather recent stay in Edom, remembers spending hours upon hours researching time magic, getting to spend a week with the Shadowhunter who had still been a stranger at that point but at the same time already so much more than that, before he was pulled away so unexpectedly.

Then, another week in Seville, Alexander's rather surprising reappearance, feeling like a piece that he had literally been missing had returned to him, the children at the Haven adoring Alexander's quiet but firm presence, and far too soon he was pulled away once more.

Then Berlin and spending an entire week effectively just cuddling on the couch.

Every time Alexander appeared at various points in time, it seems they got just barely more than seven days to spend together before he was pulled away again.

And every time the Shadowhunter left, Magnus was made to forget ever even having met him at all, like the entire week had never really happened at all, the few snippets that might have remained at most seeming like something his mind had dreamt up.

But now, those gaps have suddenly been filled, while his other memories - those of the years and decades between Alexander's visits - remain entirely unaffected by his Shadowhunter's visits.

It's confusing, almost like he is seeing double in some places, and every time Magnus closes his eyes to sleep, more new-but-old memories drift to the forefront of his mind, making it entirely impossible for him to sleep.

Hence, him being awake right now.

Well, at least his continued sleeplessness has given him the time to research a bit more and by now he has come up with an explanation as to why his memories seem to be returning to him in these strange, regularly spaced bursts.

In the end, it all seems to come back to his sigil.

As far as Magnus can figure, Alexander's travel through time seems to pretty much entirely rely on the bond between them, the connection forged by his sigil on Alexander's chest.

The bond which gave Alexander a way out during the magical attack in the present, something to grasp, to hold onto when he was thrown into the in-between, somehow bringing him into the past - to Magnus' past self - as the next best thing.

And time bent. Looped. Formed a loop separate from time-as-it-was, a loop of barely more than seven days. And with each new time skip, they get to spend those seven days together, a week of sharing their lives in the past.

But his sigil's magic is still strongest between him – this version of him, the Magnus of the here and now, the one who actually forged the bond – and Alexander, no matter which time he might be in.

So now, time is correcting itself, using that connection to send Alexander back to his own time, back to Magnus along that same connection that brought him to the past in the first place.

So, with each of Alexander's time skips, whenever they reach the eighth day - the end of that loop separate from time-as-it-was – he is pulled away once more, pulled away towards his own time.

And every time the Shadowhunter is dragged through time along that connection, the link between Alexander and Magnus in-the-here-and-now is opened, stronger in a way, suddenly a two-way-street, allowing Magnus to recall some of those memories that the timeline's meddling had made him forget before.

Hence, the bursts of memories.

Magnus hasn't quite figured out why Alexander's time skips are restricted to a seven-day loop, much less why each, each time skip seems to equate about one day in the present, but it's already reassuring to feel like he has at least some parts of it figured out.

Although, this certainly isn't what he had intended by drawing his sigil on Alexander at all, has never even heard of anything even remotely similar happening. It had just been supposed to be a sort of failsafe – an edge, something that would let Magnus reach for Alexander if he ever gets stuck in some in-between state like that time with the parabatai bond – and a show of trust by using his sigil to forge it.

But he can't really feel sorry for it either. Because it looks like it was also that very connection which gave Alexander a way out of that magical attack, an attack that was most likely intended to get rid of him entirely. And if his sigil is the reason that his Shadowhunter was able to get out, to stay alive, and also the means by which Alexander will be able to ultimately return to him now, then you certainly won't hear Magnus complaining about it in any way.

As long as Alexander does return to him eventually, Magnus can deal.

He can wait. He has nothing if not time.

xxx

1815

xxx

In St. Petersburg, Alec finds a new reason to dislike the Unseelie.

The two of them are out celebrating. Alec actually has no idea what exactly it is they are celebrating but when faced with Magnus' excited expression as he talks about this Downworlder club run by a warlock friend of his, he quite simply hadn't been able to say no.

So, they came here, a huge open hall filled to the brim with Downworlders, not a single mundane in sight. Which makes sense, seeing as the music and atmosphere here is more like what Alec is used to from going out with Magnus in the future and definitely would make the mundanes of this era falter. Not to even mention that due to the exclusivity, no one here is even trying to hide their Downworlder features, warlock marks, faerie wings, vampire fangs fully on display.

Well, Alec's runes are definitely hidden under a glamour of course. Even he can admit that the policies of the Clave in the 1800s weren't the sort that would motivate Downworlders to welcome a Shadowhunter in their club.

But now they are here and Alec barely gives any of the creatures milling around a glance. He is pretty much hypnotized by the sight of Magnus dancing, looking almost like the Magnus Alec met in New York. Tight pants, a flowing blue tunic on top and slightly heeled boots, several rings and - most importantly - colorful streaks in his hair and shimmery make-up around his eyes.

It's the first time since he was thrown out of his own time that Alec has seen Magnus look almost like his future self, jewelry and make-up included. Alec hadn't even been aware just how much he missed the sight.

The only real difference to his future self seems to be that this Magnus is even more radiant, shines even brighter, just as impossible-to-look-away-from, brighter than the sun itself, seemingly everyone's attention focused on the warlock at Alec's side despite the numerous beautiful-by-design creatures surrounding them.

Magnus smiles and dances and Alec is absolutely mesmerized. Quite happily so.

Although, currently Alec is at the bar getting them something to drink - dancing for several hours straight is taxing – and as soon as the bartender hands him the drinks, he immediately makes his way back over to where Magnus is waiting for him. Lest some Downworlder gets the idea to use Alec's brief absence to approach his warlock.

And, yes, the past has certainly taught Alec that he can get quite possessive - possibly even jealous - if the situation calls for it. But, honestly, who wouldn't be if they were able to call someone like Magnus theirs. Magnus who is so incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful and seems to draw the attention of every single person in the entire room.

So, yeah, Alec thinks his possessiveness should be more than understandable. And Magnus definitely doesn't seem to mind.

Finally reaching the table, Alec steps in close, handing over one of the drinks.

"Thanks, darling," Magnus smiles at him.

Alec automatically quirks a half-smile at the endearment, something which has only really made a reappearance ever since his arrival in St. Petersburg.

Then, he immediately downs half his beer. Angel, he is thirsty. And while the beer in his hand is definitely not his favorite thing to drink it's at least refreshing.

Then, he frowns. Glances down at his drink.

Suddenly, something is off, nagging at him, something he can't quite put his finger on tugging at his instincts. Like a warning that he can't quite figure out.

He looks over at Magnus - who is frowning at his own glass as well and has yet to actually drink from it. Maybe whatever has Alec's instincts going haywire is bothering Magnus as well?

Alec waits, one hand curled loosely at his side, right next to one of his daggers. Waiting. For an attack or something else that his instincts might be warning him of.

But nothing happens.

Another minute. Still nothing.

And when his instincts don't do anything beyond that nagging warning, when nothing actually happens, Alec relaxes a little. Still, he sets his drink aside to join Magnus' untouched drink already on the table beside them.

And then, he promptly lets himself get distracted once more by how good Magnus looks right now. Still a little flushed from dancing, a slight sheen of sweat along his collarbones and he looks so radiant that Alec simply can't help but stare unabashedly.

He watches as a slight smirk tugs at Magnus' lips, the warlock clearly aware of Alec's staring despite not actually looking at him. And finally, after another couple of seconds, Magnus turns towards him, smiles at him, looking so radiant and beautiful that Alec can't help but lean in and kiss him.

He usually isn't one for public displays of affection but the alcohol – and the entire night if he is entirely honest – gives him enough of an excuse to pretend that his inhibitions have been lowered. He steps in closer, swipes his tongue against Magnus' lips, licks into his mouth.

Magnus flinches backwards. Harshly.

Stares at Alec who has immediately frozen in place, no idea what is going on, but apprehension already tightening in his gut because suddenly there is something almost like terror in Magnus' eyes.

"Drasyil root," is all the warlock chokes out.

And Alec can feel the color drain out of his own face.

Drasyil root. One of the few things in the entire world, no matter which realm that can affect a warlock unheeded of their power.

It uses the warlock's own magic against them, sapping their strength, making them lethargic to the point that they cannot even move much beyond breathing. And with an overdose even that can stop.

The root only grows in the Faerie realm and even there it is so exceedingly rare, it is almost non-existent.

It's also heavily regulated, as in bringing it to earth is absolutely taboo. Simply because several centuries back the warlocks almost went to war with the Seelie realm over its use.

The root is so dangerous to a warlock that they have a sort instinctual defense against it, their very magic protesting against ingesting it, usually making it rather hard to get a warlock to take any at all because their magic won't let them.

But warlocks are also the only race affected by it at all.

Fury burns through Alec.

Someone spiked their drinks. And Magnus' instincts might have prevented him from drinking his own, but Alec's didn't. And then, he kissed Magnus.

And now Magnus is drugged, even if only second-hand.

Alec steps in close to the warlock. "What do I do?" His eyes are scanning the crowd. Looking for anyone suspicious, anyone who might be responsible for this. But well, seeing as the radiant warlock at his side has been garnering looks all evening, there is really no way to tell who of the many people staring might be responsible.

"Outside." Magnus' speech is already starting to slur.

Alec steps even closer, wraps an arm around his waist to help him stay upright without making it obvious. "They'll follow us," Alec remarks, fury seething in his blood.

"Too many."

Alec clenches his teeth.

Magnus is right. If it becomes apparent to everyone here that Magnus has been drugged, even those who actually had nothing to do with it might want to try their luck to get at him. An insanely powerful but entirely defenseless warlock.

And as confident as he might be in his own abilities, even Alec can't defend Magnus against an entire club of Downworlders by himself.

He tightens his arm around Magnus' waist as he starts moving them through the crowd, bows his head as though to speak into Magnus' ear so that it isn't apparent to anyone watching that Magnus is by now leaning pretty much all of his weight on Alec, head resting against his shoulder.

Thankfully, they make it outside without interference and Alec doesn't waste any time to quickly move them a little down the alley across from the club's entrance. It'll serve as cover from everyone else who isn't actually involved, and it will make fighting much easier if he can't be attacked from all sides.

It'll also let him watch the entrance of the club and anyone following after them.

He chooses a spot, settles Magnus against the brick wall, lets him slide slowly down until the warlock is sitting down, leaning against the wall.

Magnus' eyes are barely open at this point but the fear in them at his own defenselessness right now is still obvious. It is the first time that Alec has ever seen Magnus truly afraid.

The fury that is burning through Alec's blood is all-encompassing.

He draws his stele and almost absently activates every single fighting rune he has - his runes still remaining glamoured to anyone else - even as he continues to watch the entrance to the club intently.

Someone who goes through the trouble of finding a rare ingredient like drasyil root and then risks a warlock's wrath by trying to poison them, does not just waste the opportunity to cash in because the second supposed warlock - namely Alec - wasn't affected for some reason.

He doesn't have to wait long.

Five men - Unseelie, at least two of them satyrs going by their appearance - step out of the club, looking around themselves. They quickly hone in on their alley way and casually make their way over.

All five of them walk with the swagger of thinking themselves on a successful hunt, the confidence of thinking themselves unchallenged victors.

They step into the darkness of the alley.

Only to promptly stop short at the image of Magnus barely conscious leaning against the wall and Alec standing over him protectively.

It takes them a few seconds before one of them practically crows, "By the king, he is not even a warlock! I told you, we did not have to worry about the second one. But did any of you listen to me? No, you insisted on spiking both of their drinks. What a waste."

Alec doesn't say a word, eyes narrowed, focused, just watching them, observes their dynamic. Easily picking out the leader, assessing their skills, picking out which ones might have some sort of fighting abilities and which ones are going to be nuisances at best.

He tilts his head slightly.

Though it doesn't look like any of them are going to be an actual challenge, he can tell that much just by the sloppy way they move. Hey, he spends his days either training for himself, fighting demons or teaching other Shadowhunters how to improve. It's his life. So, assessing someone's fighting ability has long-since become second nature to him.

And this lot clearly has no idea what they just walked into.

Although, the one at the back looks quite apprehensive as he observes the way Alec is standing over Magnus, at the very least able to recognize that Alec not only has no intention of stepping aside but is also sure of his ability to defend his position.

The others clearly aren't that smart. Or maybe their survival instincts atrophied and died.

Alec honestly couldn't care less.

And when the first makes an actual move to just reach past him - reach for Magnus who he can hear breathing shallowly behind him - Alec lashes out.

The five of them don't even really get the chance to defend themselves at all before they are on the ground, unconscious or bleeding or sporting broken bones or a combination of the above.

Maybe it's the element of surprise, maybe it's the fact that once they realized that Alec isn't in fact a warlock they completely dismissed him, maybe it's really their absolute inability to fight.

Either way, it takes him all of two minutes to finish the fight. A fight that they very much started the moment they set their sight on Magnus.

During the fight - if you can even call it that, Alec thinks derisively, his anger still like a living, breathing thing hot in his chest - he manipulates them past Magnus further into the alley. To make sure none of them will be able to run away.

Alec wants answers.

He wants to know who they are, wants to know why they targeted Magnus, where they got the root, how they got it into their drinks. He wants to know every single angel-damned detail.

Although, once they are all down, the first thing he does is glance over his shoulder to check on Magnus.

"You alright?"

"Fine." Magnus clearly tries to smile, but his facial muscles aren't really obeying him and the warlock quickly gives up with a tired sigh.

Alec clenches his teeth. He doesn't think he has ever been quite this furious before.

Annoyed? Oh definitely. His siblings help him build up a tolerance for that particular emotion with truly unnecessary frequency.

Angry? Sure. When his parents tried to force him into a political marriage, every time he is powerless against the Clave, whenever someone he cares about gets injured.

Desperate? More than. When the Clave tried to ban Izzy, when they hunted Jace and Alec was powerless to stop any of it.

But real fury? This sort of hellfire rage and ice-cold wrath at once?

No, gotta say, that's a first.

One of the Unseelies at his feet makes an attempt to move. It's a stupid idea and Alec immediately makes sure to drive that point home. That one clearly just volunteered to serve as an example to all of them.

When he turns back to Magnus again, the warlock is watching him with as much intent as he can apparently muster.

"You only got it second hand, that shouldn't be as bad right?" Alec asks.

He gets something like a nod from Magnus.

"How long until your magic has it burned out of your system?"

"Half 'n hour?"

Alec tilts his head.

Okay. There are a lot of things you can do with thirty minutes.

He turns back to the five Downworlders at his feet. And then he goes about getting himself those answers.

By the time, Magnus is standing of his own power again, one of the Unseelie has passed out - not Alec's fault, he didn't even really touch that one - one seems to be mostly catatonic - that one might be his fault - and the other three are continuously babbling information at him.

He now knows more about these Unseelie, their friends, families, pets, fetishes, hobbies, deepest darkest secrets and so on than he honestly ever wanted.

But most importantly, he knows why these morons decided to mess with Magnus.

Apparently, the crush of one of these - Alec forgot which one and he honestly couldn't care less - came onto Magnus a few decades back and was rejected. That girl has been stewing in her anger ever since and somehow managed to enlist these guys. There was something mentioned about a botanist for an uncle which is where they got the drasyil root.

For some reason they thought it would be a good idea to do one of the worst things that can be done to a warlock because of a woman with a damn crush. It's such a ridiculous reason for such a serious offense that Alec doesn't know whether he wants to slap these guys or just facepalm and save himself the effort.

Alec isn't even going to ask about their idea of revenge. If they were honestly planning to do Magnus harm, then Alec is rather likely to kill them on the spot. And if they had something ridiculous in mind like stripping Magnus naked in a club while he was defenseless, then he really just doesn't want to know.

Seriously, at this point he'll believe anything.

But the main thing is that Magnus is now standing behind Alec again, listening and watching, but still entirely silent.

Alec has yet to look up at him so he doesn't know what expression he is wearing, but going by the rather nervous glances the Unseelies in front of him keep throwing over his shoulder and their ongoing babbling Alec is sure it must be terrifying. Serves these bastards right.

Suddenly, all babbling cuts off, Magnus probably having made some sort of gesture to put an end to it, likely just as annoyed by this entire situation as Alec.

There is more silence and Alec doesn't feel any need whatsoever to interrupt Magnus' stare down.

When the warlock finally speaks, his voice is gravelly, low, vibrating with a dark threat. The tone sends shivers down all of their spines - though likely for different reasons, because going by their terrified expressions they are clearly not turned on by Magnus' voice like Alec is - as the alley seems to grow darker and colder at once.

"Do you have any more?"

No one even has to ask what the warlock is referring to.

The one in the middle is nodding frantically and starts slapping at the catatonic guy next to him, trying to jolt him back into consciousness before giving up and just digging through his pockets himself.

He almost drops the vial he comes up with, his hands are shaking so bad.

Alec just reaches out to take it, fist curling around it. No way is Magnus going to touch it when there is a risk that some of it got on the outside of the vial.

Magnus' hand lands on his shoulder, hand squeezing, and then giving a slight pull. Alec goes easily, getting back to his feet. Though he doesn't feel at all like these faeries have paid enough for what they did.

But Magnus is still staring down at the group of Unseelies, entirely silent, his stare dark and foreboding.

Then, he lifts his hands, and Alec feels his magic swirl in the air.

A fancy vial materializes in the air in front of the warlock. It holds a shimmering, gold liquid and whatever it is, Alec is quite sure he has never seen this particular potion before.

Magnus is murmuring, fingers fluidly tracing glowing symbols into the space in front of him, the air starting to thicken around them, magic heavy around them, pressing down on everyone.

A feeling that clearly reaches well beyond their alley, going by the exclamations Alec can hear coming from the entrance of the club behind them. He immediately shifts so he can keep an eye on anyone possibly coming to investigate but still see what Magnus is doing.

There is now a circle of bright blue symbols glowing in the air in front of Magnus. Then, the vial opens, releasing a shimmering golden mist that briefly hovers before wafting down to cover the five faeries at their feet.

A second. Another.

And then the panic starts.

Fearful exclamations as the Unseelie direct horrified looks up at the warlock looming over them menacingly.

Even Alec feels his eyebrows rise in surprise as he watches. Because he can see rather clearly just what has them so distressed.

Their faerie features are receding.

The pointed ears are turning rounded, the horns on that one satyr recede into his skull, same with the golden patches of skin on another.

They are panicking.

And Alec just watches in utter satisfaction. He had no idea that you could take a faerie's magic from them but it seems like a perfectly suited punishment for what they were willing to do to Magnus.

Magnus doesn't actually say a word to the five Downworlders panicking in front of him, his magic swirling around him, the expression on his face dark and merciless, entirely unmoved by their pleading.

And once the spell is done, he remains looming over them for another second, lets his dark and heavy gaze drag across all five of them, as their complaints turn plaintive, finally cutting off entirely.

Then he simply turns towards Alec, reaches out his hand, a portal springing up off to the side. And they are gone.

xxx

"I had no idea you could actually take away a faerie's magic." Alec says later once they have finally settled on Magnus' sofa. Magnus is currently lying back against him, resting against Alec's chest.

There is absolutely no way Alec is letting go of Magnus any time soon.

Magnus just quirks a grin. "Ah, you can't actually," he replies, somewhat sardonically.

Alexander raises his eyebrows in surprise.

Magnus shrugs with a small smirk. "You can, however, make a faerie believe they have lost their power. For example by casting a tangible glamor over their faerie features and abruptly draining their magic to almost nothing."

Alec frowns slightly. "Okay?"

Magnus' smile turns a whole lot more vindictive as he says, "And once a faerie believes their magic to be gone they cannot use it any longer. It has something to do with their weird relationship with truth. They can't lie to themselves. So, if they know they don't have their magic, they don't? Or something like that." Something dark lights in Magnus' eyes. "And even if someone were to tell them just that, it won't help. Not until they learn how to listen to their mind over their body, something their lot rarely has the discipline to teach themselves. So let's just say, it will likely take them a long long while to once more believe their magic isn't actually gone."

Alec blinks. Then utter, vindictive satisfaction runs through him at the thought that the Unseelie are currently despairing at the thought of having lost their magic. He thinks it's a truly fitting punishment.

Although. "But what was that potion you used then?" he asks curiously, arms tightening, their fingers intertwined on Magnus' stomach.

The warlock tilts his head to look at him, grins an impish smile, "Just some body glitter. For effect."

Silence.

Then Alec snorts and Magnus' bright uninhibited laughter fills the living room, quite literally warming Alec's heart.

He wants to bottle the sound, so he can keep it with him forever and not have to worry about ever feeling cold again.

xxx

Present

xxx

Magnus blinks at the sudden memory flashing in front of his eyes.

An image of Alexander crouching in a dark alleyway, the faces of five absolutely terrified faeries staring up at him. Seems like Alexander certainly knows how to leave an impression wherever he goes.

He snorts a laugh, making Isabelle and Jace sitting on the other couch in his loft look at him strangely.

"Just remembered something," he waves them off with a grin, makes sure to let nothing of his sudden nostalgia show.

By magic, do I miss him.

A/N: I am so sorry that it took me so long to update! I've actually had this chapter written for quite some time now but, well, there are a couple of reasons for the delay actually but the main one being that I was told this part just didn't fit with the rest of the story. So then, I tried to come up with something else to put here instead but my muses wouldn't really allow me to change it… Hence, me getting entirely stuck XD In the end, I decided I'd just post it as is after all, if only so I can finally move on to the next part. Would absolutely love to know what you think :D

And the next chapter will be similar, with several time skips for Alec and short glimpses of how Magnus is doing in the future :)

Thank you so so much for all your reviews! They really mean a lot and keep bringing me back to this story (*^^*)