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Magnus feels the comfortable shimmer in the wards as Alec quietly enters their home, just as he always does when Magnus is still with a client. He never disturbs him when he’s in his apothecary with another warlock, unless it’s Catarina or Madzie, not even if he’s been gone for a week like this time. He’s been in Glasgow dealing with a rather problematic Institute Head, updating Magnus on the daily about the situation. It’s completely unprofessional, but Magnus has missed his husband a rather ridiculous amount and sort of wishes he’d break his no disturbing rule just this once.
Magnus only falters in his conversation for a moment as he hears the quiet closing of their bedroom door. He focuses back on the warlock before him in a second, a young girl named Eva who’s recently made the big move to Alicante and wishes to get more involved. They talk idly for about twenty more minutes, conversation devolving from genuine ways Magnus can help her become more active in the growing warlock community to small talk pleasantries.
Soon enough Magnus sees her out stopping briefly in the hall as her eyes widen when a series of clashing pots and pans rings through the loft. Magnus opens the door shaking his head knowing that’s not the sound of anything more than Alec anger cooking.
“That’s just my husband making dinner,” Magnus smiles ushering her politely out the door.
Eva’s eyebrows raise, “Not much of a cook is he?”
Magnus chuckles, he must admit she’s not exactly wrong there, as he says his final goodbyes before heading to the kitchen. The closer he gets the louder the noise becomes. A drawer slammed closed a little too hard, a pot sat heavily on the counter, the faucet flipped on just a tad aggressively.
It’s a coping mechanism he’s developed in the last year or so, going hand in hand with his attempts to become a better cook ever since the stew incident. It’s hell on their countertops, but it’s an improvement from seeing his husband come home with bloodied knuckles from two too many rounds with a punching bag. Alec still has bad days, moments where he falls into the old habits a thing Magnus would never judge him for, but he’ll replace a million kitchen counters if it means he doesn’t have to heal his loves raw, shattered hands after the exhaustion hits.
Magnus hasn’t heard from Alec since last night when he informed him that an acting Institute Head would be running Glasgow for the time being while the former Head took some time to reflect on his prejudices on Wrangel Island. Judging from all the clattering it’s clear something went wrong between then and now.
“They’re going to cut the Seelies out of the amnesty resolution,” Alec says without prompting as soon as Magnus steps into the kitchen immediately alert to Magnus’ presence. And, well, fuck, that’s a lot worse than anything going wrong in Glasgow.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Magnus replies. Alec’s back stays turned to him shutting off the faucet harder than necessary. His shoulders are in a tense line and his fingers curl into the edge of the sink a little too tight before he turns to face Magnus.
“I wish I was,” he sighs, heavy and a little defeated as he runs a hand through his hair frustratedly. “Jia called me just after I got in to let me know they’re moving to push the vote through to next week before Whitelaw retires that way his pack of spineless followers can vote along party line as it were.”
He falls back against the counter leaning against it heavily and sliding down to sit on the kitchen floor, knees high with his elbows resting on them. Magnus comes closer settling his back against the counter to join Alec with his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.
The amnesty resolution had been the collective brainchild of Aline, Helen and Alec. The resolution had come about as the laws and accords had slowly, but surely been changed. Helen, who’d had he fair share of experience at the Gard, prompted it first, suggesting a new resolution that would grant all Downworlders currently held in custody for crimes no longer considered crimes immediate release and expunged records. The bill would be retroactive as well meaning every change in law moving forward over the years would grant prisoners the same new freedom.
They knew it wouldn’t be easy, historically the only Downworlders granted expunged records had been the ones tortured and experimented on during the Heavenly Fire Project and that had been mostly so the Clave could cover their own asses in the public eye. With Magnus, Luke and few other Downworlder representatives help the full resolution had been set, checked and quadruple checked for any loopholes or addendums the Clave could attempt to exploit.
The vote was supposed to happen next month, allowing for every Clave member to have the time to read through the exceedingly thorough and lengthy resolution. Jia and Alec had also ensured that Delegate Whitelaw would be retired by the time it was voted on, knowing he’d use his fear mongering ways to change all of or at least one part of the document or outright shoot it down.
“They tried to block the whole thing, but they know there’d be too much dissent, so they shot for the next best thing in their eyes,” Alec continues after a little while. “They’re going for the new classic ‘due to their involvement in Jonathan Morgenstern’s reign of terror’ shtick to make us change the resolution. Basically we cut the Seelies out to get it passed, which will destroy any relationship we have with them, or we lose the whole resolution due to a complete stalemate and hundreds of Downworlders who don’t belong behind bars stay there. Jia could veto it, but a move that bold could put her in danger of being voted out of her Consul seat, she’s already pushing enough buttons to make people unhappy and if we end up with a Consul that’s not on our side we’re completely fucked. It’s a loss no matter what we do.”
“Is there any way to stall the vote?”
Alec lets out a long breath before answering bringing his hands together to rub his thumb into his palm.
“Aline and Helen are trying, Clary’s even jumped in since they’re trying to use Jonathan as a bargaining chip in their bullshit, but I don’t know if it’s possible,” Alec says leaning his head back against the cabinets and turning to look at Magnus. “As much progress as we’ve made these past two years, there’s still plenty of Shadowhunters, old and young, who blame all the Seelies for the Queen’s actions. They don’t deserve the blame of one bad apple, a thing a lot of Shadowhunters could wake the hell up and realize since Valentine was once revered amongst our people. But they haven’t yet and they definitely won’t change perspective in less than a week, we might not have enough on our side to stop it.”
Alec’s thumb presses harder into his palm before releasing and reaching out to tangle his fingers with Magnus’ as he drops his legs down mirroring Magnus’ position.
Magnus smiles a small smile before speaking, “Well, fuck.” Alec just hums in agreement.
They’re quiet for a few moments, Alec’s thumb rubbing delicate circles into Magnus’ hand. The action causing the tension in his shoulders to drop ever so slightly.
“Okay,” Magnus says lowering his voice to a dramatic stage whisper. “Completely off the record, husband to husband, not the High Warlock to the Inquisitor, I could put a teeny, tiny curse on Whitelaw and his goons and clear this all right up.”
That gets a harsh, but humored laugh from his husband, the tension in his shoulders dropping even more.
“Pretty sure that would get us both fired and possibly arrested,” Alec says still chuckling lightly.
Magnus shrugs tilting his head to smile at his husband, “We could finally go on that ten-year long vacation we’ve been talking about, go on the run. It’d be very sexy.”
Alec chuckles again slouching down enough to rest his head on Magnus’ shoulder.
“Please,” Alec responds. “You’d get stir crazy after a month of not being able to change things anymore, it’s gonna be at least another century or two before we actually live up to that one. Preferably without the on the run part.”
Magnus smiles. Alec’s right, as frustrating as their work can be, right now this is where they belong. They’ve been at the front of the wave of change and they can’t just commit one slightly illegal act and run away from it all.
“Too bad we’re not the kind of people that are willing to get fired and live on lam for cursing someone and run away to a tropical island,” Magnus sighs.
“Damn our moral compasses,” Alec huffs.
“Okay,” Magnus says mostly thinking out loud, knowing Alec will listen and take in any advice or pure rambling he has. “So we can’t cut out the Seelies, but we also can’t let this resolution die before it even has the chance to be read through completely. We can’t stall the vote, there’s too many pigheaded Shadowhunters that love to hear themselves talk about grudges to save face even if they don’t actually hold them to sway minds in such a short time and I can’t curse that old bastard Whitelaw no matter how much I want to.”
Saying it all out loud in one somewhat depressing sentence puts into perspective how hard of a hit this loss will be. It’s months’ worth of work from literally dozens of consulted Downworlders and Shadowhunters across the world. Alec’s missed full weeks of sleep and woken up Magnus in the middle of the night with sudden realizations about a loophole they’ve missed needing his advice and he knows that Helen has done the same to Aline. It’s a huge shift for their world in one of the most complicated and difficult to change aspects of the system.
“That pretty much sums it up,” Alec says. Magnus opens his mouth ready to think out loud again when Alec suddenly sits up his brow furrowed in thought.
“What?”
“Shadowhunters love to hear themselves talk,” he says with no explanation. “You’re a fucking genius, baby,” Alec says planting a quick kiss on Magnus’ forehead before shooting up from the floor and rushing to somewhere else in the loft. Magnus stands ready to follow when Alec comes flying out of the library, a recent addition onto their ever-changing home, with a large book of revised and updated Shadowhunter law.
He dumps the book out on the coffee table immediately flipping through the pages as he plants himself on the couch. Magnus joins him not bothering to ask where that mind of Alec’s is going, his husband has a way of unceremoniously sharing all exactly when he’s ready to.
“I don’t know if you know this,” Alec says after a few minutes of frantic page turning. “But back in the 1850’s we had a Consul who was obsessed with the mundane U.S. democratic system. Obviously he didn’t put in all that many changes, but he was fascinated with filibustering, so he passed a resolution that allowed for Shadowhunters to filibuster any meeting. It kind of fell out of style by the 1900’s and then eventually it just became one of those old laws that I’m pretty sure never got reformed and just got completely ignored.”
Alec pauses, stopping at a page. “A ha!” he exclaims a little loudly looking at Magnus a little sheepishly and adorably before turning back to the book. “I read just about every Shadowhunter law and book and I could get my hands on when I became Inquisitor and when I read about it first it really wasn’t a priority or anything that needed my attention, but now we might be able to use it.” Alec scans the page as he speaks, tapping his finger on the final paragraph on the page. “It’s still in the books, no one ever changed it,” He says with a smile looking up at Magnus
Magnus squints an eye, “So what’s the plan, talk until Whitelaw dies of an inevitable heart attack from all that rage he’s built up over his miserable lifetime?”
Alec snorts, “I mean that would be ideal, but I was thinking more like talk until they just can’t vote.” He turns away from the book curling up a leg underneath himself to face Magnus full on. “Maybe we can’t stop their plan to put it to vote next week, but they can’t stop us from making our final case before the vote actually occurs either. I might not be able to hold them for a full open vote session, but give Aline a big breakfast and some comfortable shoes and she’ll talk all damn day if that’s what it takes.” It’s true Magnus once witnessed Aline talk for a full two hours when Madzie asked her why girls clothes didn’t have as many pockets as boys. Give the woman a passionate topic and there’s no stopping her.
“And if they can’t vote on the resolution during the initial introduced session, then based on Clave laws a vote can’t be attempted on the same resolution for at least two more months, another somewhat forgotten law that I know for certain still stands,” Alec pauses his hands flying about as he talks. “It’s not ideal, Downworlders in custody would have to keep waiting, but we can’t let this pass for only some Downworlders, it has to be for everyone. This will give us two months to work on the people who want to amend the resolution, Aline can even keep her filibuster on message to start working on changing their minds. Plus, Whitelaw will be long gone by then, his retirement is final, the paperwork’s been settled he can’t undo it, which means maybe some of his cronies will develop a little spine and vote with their own minds for once.”
“Using an old forgotten Clave law to stop old, sadly not forgotten Clave ignorance and racism? You know how much that’s going to piss them off?” Magnus asks with a wicked completely loving this plan smile.
“I absolutely do,” Alec smirks devilishly in response.
And, god does Magnus love this man, love this version of this man. The political shark that uses his years of diplomatic training and admittedly petty ways to do good in a corrupt system.
“This is a completely inappropriate time, because you need to call Aline right this second, but I am so attracted to you right now,” Magnus says reaching out to brush his fingers lightly across Alec’s jawline.
Alec smiles bright leaning in to kiss Magnus slow and sweet.
“You always are,” he says as he abruptly pulls back with another more heated smirk before standing to grab his phone from where he’d discarded it on the kitchen counter.
The vote goes to the open Clave session the next week. Aline stands to make her final bid for the resolution making impassioned speech after impassioned speech about Downworlders rights and Gard reform for nearly six hours before losing a bit of steam at the end and forcing the bigoted Clave to listen to her give her opinions on pockets and her adoration of her half Seelie wife. She makes it through the whole session, Alec, Helen and Magnus himself watching with pride as she makes direct eye contact with Whitelaw as the clock strikes six p.m. calling the session officially closed.
Two months later the resolution passes, just barely by one vote, and is officially signed through by Jia the next day. It’s a slow go getting each individual Downworlder set free and put back on track, the goal is for it take no more than eight months, a heady task, even including the additional expunged prisoners that could arise depending on any new law changes in that time. Magnus and Maia work to set up programs to help long imprisoned warlocks and wolves get reacclimated into society while Meliorn and Lily do the same for their people. Raphael even chips in using his connections to the church to put them in places where they can find work and safe shelter.
A few months after that following a long day of setting up a recently freed warlock with Eva, now a staple in Alicante, Magnus finds his husband sitting on the kitchen floor again. For a moment he worries until he sees Alec’s relaxed shoulders and a covered pot of pasta and vegetables sitting on the stove and he knows everything’s alright.
“Long day?” Alec asks as Magnus takes a seat beside him rolling his neck.
“A bit,” Magnus says lifting Alec’s arm to rest over his shoulders snuggling in closer to his husband. “Everything’s all settled though, Eva’s come a long way in a short time, she’ll be a great help. Plus, Helen has two more warlocks officially on release tomorrow that have reached out to make the move here so the weekends looking pretty booked for me. You?”
Alec hums, “Glasgow’s acting Head is official now, Maia called to let me know Bat got those three released wolves from Luke’s old pack set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn and I managed to calmly make a dinner that tastes pretty good, so not too bad.”
Magnus smiles looking up at Alec and placing a small kiss on the underside of his jaw where he can reach from his position. It’s been a good day for them, a rewarding day that shows the change they’re making is actually working and making a difference.
“Do you think this is how Barack and Michelle Obama feel at the end of the day?” Magnus asks settling back in under Alec’s arm.
Alec chuckles, “Am I Michelle or Barack in this analogy?”
Magnus smiles before answering pleased Alec actually knows the mundane former United States President and First Lady, “Obviously you’re Barack, Michelle is way cooler.”
Alec places a kiss in his hair and Magnus can feel the smile on his lips, “True. But I doubt the Obama’s sit on their kitchen floor at the end of the day.”
“Oh, they most definitely do, pretty boy,” Magnus answers immediately. “It’s a down to earth thing to do. This how all true power couples end their days.”