Disclaimer: I do not in any way own any of Cassandra Clare's characters or concepts.

Author's Note: Please excuse the formatting, Fan fiction has been horrible and uploaded the whole thing as a giant paragraph and I sorted it out the best I could but there may be some errors. These will be rectifide tomorrow.

Magnus Bane

The place where Magnus Bane lived was quite unusual. Like most Downworlders he lived in the downtrodden streets of Brooklyn. The whole district was practically off limits to all the mundane citizens of Alicante. The palace issued proclamations daily, warning people against travelling too far in to Downworlder territory. Newspapers reported daily on the crimes committed by this so called 'lowly' class.

Not every Downworlder in Alicante lived in Brooklyn but those who chose to live amongst the mundane were persecuted ferociously. The only jobs they could find involved tireless manual labour for which they were paid far less then mundanes. For many Downworlders the turn to crime was the only way to survive.

From violent robberies to petty street tricks the Downworlders were trapped in a spiral of turmoil where the only way to survive was through violence and trickery which only served to further damage their reputation above all repair. There was not a single mundane that sympathised with them. This is not to say, however, that the Downworlders were actually angels, in any sense of the word. There were many, many evil Downworlders who even if they had the opportunity to be freed from their suppression would have gladly gone back home to their squalor because trickery and thievery came naturally to them. It was their live, their purpose.

Demonic blood ran through their veins, this was a fact that could not be denied and yet it did not make them any the more naturally evil then the average mundane. There were bad humans and there were bad Downworlders but some nasty twist of fate had made the very term "Downworlder" synonymous with "Evil".

Nevertheless, despite all the negativity surrounding his very existence Magnus Bane was happy enough. Yes, he did live amongst the rundown houses of Brooklyn but his home was his and he was rather proud of it, thank you very much. Fine sheets of silk and embroidered cotton hung around his four poster bed. Yellow velvet curtains were permanently drawn across the wide windows, removing the view of the squalor and decay of the outside world. Rubies and saphires glimmered from the walls where they had magically been set.

There were splashes of colour everywhere that gave the place the feel of an exotic palace from a bygone era. No other Downworlder had taken so much care and attention of their habitat then Magnus Bane, partly this was simply due to the fact that hardly any other Downworlder had the money to spare on such lavish decoration.

He was like a king in his own right; some came just to view this rich scene of opulence. But most came to ask for treatments and help. This was how Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn funded his mini palace. There were many Downworlders in Alicante but very few were Warlocks. The majority of the Warlock community had fled years ago. They knew that the death of King Michael whilst his heir was still an infant would mean that the prejudiced Lightwood's would seize control over the kingdom whilst the infant monarch grew to majority. Every spell they cast predicted a bleak future.

Magnus knew this as much as the next Warlock but he remained in Alicante regardless. He had no problem with being a big fish in a small sea. He was the only option the whole Downworlder community had in all of Alicante when they needed a bit of magical help. And Magnus was always glad to oblige, for a price.

Today Magnus was lazing on his bed, watching lint float about his room. It wasn't the most scintillating activity he had ever undertaken but for lack of any other excitement it would quite have to do. Magnus sighed with boredom.

If I just stay here all day I turn in to a mushroom...but then what's my alternative? Become a performing monkey for the high and mighty snobbish king of Alicante.

He climbed out of his bed with the balance and elegance of a cat, this feline image was only further consolidated by his slitted pupils. With his long silken robe trailing across the floor he went over to his cluttered mahogany desk. On it lay a grand looking invitation with a golden border. The corners of the invitation already looked rough due to the amount of time Magnus had removed and then replaced it in its purple envelope. Now the envelope was abandoned in the bottom of a wicker basket full of used receipts.

The invitation had come as a complete surprise, and not one of those "Oh, how amazing," surprises, more of a "What on earth..." surprises. The royal court had invited him to attend the annual Spring-time Ball, as the entertainment. They wanted him to performe petty magic tricks for the crowd.

So the palace had decided he was nothing more than a court jester. Great. Although it was better than being a criminal... only last week palace guards had marched in to district and taken a young lycanthrope away.

The charge was the theft of a platinum necklace from Lady Isabelle Lightwood. Magnus had heard the name before but the only image of her he could find in his memory was one of a young girl of eight standing next to her older brother on a platform before the summer feast.

Yes, he remembered them. They had made a fine pair; both had the same black hair and elegance. But they were only children; he hadn't paid that much attention to them at the time. And it had been a rather long time ago although he couldn't put his finger on the exact dates involved.

Nevertheless, he refused to become a courtly puppet, even though the offer to attend such a party was tempting. But I wouldn't be a proper guest in the full sense of the word...

An abrupt knock on the door disturbed his trail of thought.

"Come in!" he called

When the door opened a tall beautiful woman, with golden curls and piercing green eyes, stepped in to Magnus's home. She immediately fit in with her surroundings, as if she were a part of the vibrant ensemble of silks and jewels.

"Camille, I should have known it would be you." As he spoke Magnus grabbed the invitation off the table and shoved it in a draw. He watched Camille's eyes analyse his actions but said nothing by way of explanation.

"I thought you might want to be filled in on what we discussed." She leant against the closed door, not moving any further in to the room.

"You know very well that I care very little for what happens in your meetings," his tone was disinterested but Camille could see in his eyes that was just an act. And worst of all, he knew that she knew.

She smiled widely, showing her sparkling teeth. The extended canines were being one of the few outward proof of her vampire nature. "You are such a liar, Magnus Bane. Are you seriously telling me that you think that we, the Downworlders, should just accept our lot in life? That we should allow those impertinent mundanes to look down at us as if we are worthless?"

"I'm just saying that from where I'm standing there is nothing to be fixed. I'm king of my castle," he said whilst waving his hand.

"And what happens when you get framed for a robbery or perhaps murder? Who will be king of the castle then? The only ones who are truly King are those stuck up Lightwoods. Not even that little brat Jonathon can truly call the crown his own."

"Ah well, boohoo for him. I shall sob profusely in to my pillow every night in his memory."

"Oh shut up, Magnus, you know how serious this is! I can't take being a second class citizen anymore!" Her tone was biting and harsh.

"You could just leave, you know."

"And you very well know that I can't! Not until they releasehimfrom the dungeons. They think that just because he's a Downworlder they can treat him like dirt, but no more. The bottom line is things need to change, but, as much as I regret to admit it, I need your help."

"Ah, so the ex-girlfriend wants a favour. You cheated on me, Camille. I devoted everything I had to you and you left me out to dry for a lycanthrope. You come here with your high morals and ideas of justice but you don't believe a single word of it. You're just in it for yourself. I don't think I have ever met somebody so utterly selfish in my whole life! So excuse me if I don't bend over backwards to accommodate your every whim."

A stony silence passed between them. Eventually Camille peeled herself away from the door and slunk over to the bed, perching on the very end of it.

"I'm sorry for what I did," Magnus laughed but she just waited for him to quieten again before continuing. "And you are right. I do have my own motives but you cannot question the fact that there are positive outcomes to my proposals. Revolution is the only way. They don't listen to us, they don't care about us. We need to make them care. We shouldn't have to move away just so we can be free. I don't want much from you, Magnus. But I know you have links in the palace. All that I ask is that you cultivate them and when the time comes and I ask you for some information, you get it for me. And that's it, the end of your involvement."

"So basically you want me to be a mole."

"Basically," her smile caught him off guard again, he couldn't help but feel a twinge in his heart as he remembered all the day they had spent together sharing every secret and every little thought. On that very bed he had lain snuggled in his arms. But she wasn't his anymore. She never really had been his from the beginning...

"What makes you think they would ever trust me that much?"

"Because you have a good reputation with them, I also know that you have turned in quite a few of our kind to the palace guard."

"Only the ones that had truly done wrong."

"Nevertheless to them you are a trusted snitch. They see you as their mole in our affairs. So let them carry on in their world of delusion. It's all I ask."

"And what do I get in return?"

She stood up slowly. Her hair tumbled over her eyes as if it were a golden curtain. Pressing against Magnus she cupped his face in her pale hands and gently pressed he lips against his lower jaw.

"You can have one last date with me. We'll eat pasta under the stars and steal roses before dawn." Her voice was husky and seductive.

He knew he was stupid to listen. What did "one last date" mean? He wouldn't be able to persuade her to come back to him again. If her plans succeeded she would be riding off in to sunset with her steamy lycanthrope. But maybe, just maybe she would change her mind before then.

It's worth a chance...

"Fine, I'll do it. But only because I have nothing better to do."

She pulled away from him abruptly and Magnus suddenly felt quite cold. "I knew you'd come through."

"Oh, don't worry darling. I promise to supercede all expectations." His mind was already wandering to the scrunched invitation lying in the draw. What better opportunity was there to get close to the palace officials then to go to the palace itself?

They won't know what hit them. I'll give them a performing monkey with a two-for-one offer on a free palace spy thrown in to the bargain.

A/N: Reviews= Love