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In the centuries that Magnus had been alive he had grown used to feeling gazes on him everywhere he went, and it wasn’t just because of his style. Mundanes side-eyed him, Shadowhunters feared him, and even fellow Downworlders were envious of him. He used to enjoy the reactions that he evoked, took pleasure in the way they stared and marveled, and even found humor in just how much some of them hated him simply because of how much power he held in the palms of his hands.
Nowadays, however, he was growing sick of the behavior. He was stopping by the Institute for just a moment, to pick up an old book of his from Alec’s office. His boyfriend had been half asleep and picked it up by mistake on his way out of the loft earlier that morning, and Magnus didn’t trust it to be left alone in the Institute since Alec had gone out on a mission. His presence in the building was no longer something that the people who resided there were shocked about, seeing as he frequently visited Alec for lunch and other work-related endeavours. However, many who just came to visit still seemed to be suspicious of him.
Imogen Herondale was most definitely one of those people. Her eyes had landed on him the second he walked through the entrance, and despite Maryse’s protests that they continue with their meeting, she began to follow him as he headed toward Alec’s office. He ignored her at first, kept his spine straight and his eyes locked forward as he went, but anger was rising inside of him with every step, and by the time he reached his destination he was practically fuming.
“Can I help you, Imogen?” he asked, his voice intentionally frigid as he turned to face her.
She appeared to be apathetic, but Magnus knew better. He had dealt with people like her his entire life. She would never be able to see past her preconceived notions, because just like most other Shadowhunters he knew, she was unwilling to accept anything that strayed from what the Clave had taught her. She had taken one look at his file and immediately decided who he was without taking the time to even bother seeing for herself. She was a robot, programmed for bigotry and supremacism, and Magnus was tired of letting her win.
“I do not believe that we are on a first name basis, Mr. Bane, and I also do not believe that you can help me with anything.” Magnus almost wanted to laugh. Usually people like her were much more careful with their words; they hid behind thinly veiled threats so that they would never be complicit. But he supposed she didn’t feel the need to hold back while they were alone, because who would trust a Warlock over a Clave official?
“Of course,” he replied easily, lifting his arm and unlocking the door to Alec’s office with a small wave of his hand. “If that’s the case, then I suppose you won’t be needing my wards on this building to be upheld anymore, or help in defeating the demons that your people are supposed to eradicate. The Clave has always been so self sufficient.” Imogen bristled then, her jaw clenching as his words got to her, and he had to refrain from smirking. He didn’t come to the Institute to bicker with anyone, but he would if he had to.
“You may think that your relationship with Mr. Lightwood gives you a free pass to do whatever you want, but I can assure you it does not. He has the potential to be a great leader, but that is clouded by your presence in his life. Once he realizes that, maybe he will be taken seriously.” Magnus did laugh then, shaking his head and closing his eyes for a moment to reign in the fury that was rushing through his veins.
“The Head of this Institute is already a better leader than you will ever be. Don’t you dare talk to me about personal relationships getting in the way of leadership. You promoted your grandson simply because of his newfound last name, knowing that Alec was a better fit for the job-”
“Keep your morals far away from me,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with disgust, but Magnus just continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“He was born to be a leader, yet you dismissed him because you can’t see past the fact that he isn’t interested in being with a woman. You can stand here and insult me all day, but I will not allow you to speak about ‘ Mr. Lightwood ’ as though he is somehow unqualified for the position he holds. The world is changing, Imogen. I suggest you get on board before people like Alec end up in a higher rank than you and reduce your duty to shining seraph blades in the weapons room.”
He reached back to push the door to Alec’s office open further, and then summoned the book into his hand without looking. Imogen narrowed her eyes at him, and he tilted his head, staring back unflinchingly as he waited. When it seemed that she had nothing left to say, he closed the door and walked away without another word, finally letting a smirk settle on his lips.
Later that night he told Alec the story, watched with shining eyes as he threw his head back laughing, and he knew without a doubt that the hate that people like Imogen Herondale spewed out would one day be nothing but a distant memory, because their love and vision for change was far more powerful than any Clave official’s beliefs would ever be.