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It wasn’t in The Plan to become Inquisitor, not really.
He’d been disillusioned with the Clave for some time now, even Before Magnus – he’d just never really had the mental fortitude to acknowledge that publicly, not while closeted anyway. It became even more obvious how fucked up things were when Clary came along, and then he’d met Magnus, and then the tracking chip incident happened and he really couldn’t justify “just following orders” any longer. When Jace had named him Head, it’d left a different taste in his mouth than he’d expected in his youth; he’d worked his whole life to earn the position, been Acting Head since he was first an adult, and just when the whole system had grown sour, he’d earned a place within it, finally.
It didn’t taste like victory. It tasted like determination.
He’d begun implementing his ideas on a small scale, testing them out on his, his, Institute, confident in their already existing close relations with both the Downworld and the mundane world of New York. The Cabinet’s relative success only galvanised him – were it not for the tumultuous times they’d all found themselves in, with leaders changing every month, he estimated that it would have become a force to be reckoned with in a very short space of time.
As such, time was not on his side in the way he’d hoped. He’d have liked to have remained Head for several years after his wedding, drawing together resources and allies to dismantle the very idea of the Clave and rebuild something new and fairer from the remains. He’d had to fight them hard after he got married; they’d granted it essentially in name only, and it was a battle of wills to make them acknowledge Magnus as his next-of-kin, to give him all the rights afforded to spouses of active-duty combatants, to even make them change his fucking NAME because old family legacy be damned, he was Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane and this was his new legacy.
He hadn’t wanted to bring it down from the inside, he knew that it rarely worked that way. But his success in New York, his reputation among the Downworld, the mess the Council found itself in after Valentine’s second rise, and the general Nephilim population’s movement towards accepting change, all meant that he’d been put forward for and pre-accepted for Inquisitor, should he want it. Within six months.
He took it. If they were that desperate to ask for him, even with his “radical” policies like equality and justice, he had a little bit of time before they had enough political clout to get rid of him again. It would be enough. It had to be.
Of course, he wasn’t going anywhere without his husband, and having already won the right for Magnus to be treated as his legal spouse, the Council couldn’t refuse him residency in Alicante itself. Magnus was surprisingly amenable to living in Idris. Alec didn’t think he would be, in the heart of the Nephilim homeland, the source of all their bigotry, and he couldn’t blame him in the slightest if he was. He hadn’t wanted to put Magnus through that, when he’d first told him about Jia approaching him.
“It’s nothing new to me, my love,” he’d said. “I’ve been bisexual and Asian and a warlock my entire life, and all of those things have been unwelcome in the world most of that time. If it means change, I’ll do it. If it means staying with you, I’ll do anything. And besides,” he shrugged. “Your kind may hate me but they’ll still give me their money.”
They did give him their money, in fact. To be completely honest, Alec was surprised they didn’t roll out a red carpet and a parade when Magnus moved the interior of the loft into an unused tower. As it turned out, it was no secret in Alicante that Magnus had closed the rift, that Magnus had sacrificed himself to save them all, and while an anti-Downworlder sentiment still resided in some corners, most of them had managed to shake it off and learn.
They had printed Inquisitor Lightwood on the plaque on his desk, though. He prised it off with a dagger and demanded a new one.
Alec’s first major step involved the Shadowhunter general public. There hadn’t been a public vote in years, not one that he could remember, and the Clave was not synonymous with the Council like so many had come to believe. Every adult Shadowhunter was a member of the Clave, and they all had a say, so he took it upon himself to remind them of that, even if it meant risking his own position. Yet, he needn’t have worried. Enough tales had spread within eight months about Magnus saving Alicante, about the destruction of Lilith and Edom and the Downworlders responsible for the help in that, and about his and Izzy’s subsequent efforts in New York, that the motion to open the borders of Alicante to all species passed by a landslide.
Magnus had spent the last month perfecting his new ward designs for the city, ones to allow Downworlders through but not demons. He’d seen it as a challenge and taken to it when Alec had first talked about his plan, calling it his greatest work since the development of the portal, and he stood by Alec’s side as he gave his victory speech, Alicante cheering his name. It was something Alec had never expected, or hoped for – not only his achievements being celebrated in his homeland, but a husband, his husband, Magnus, at his side and beaming at him.
“Alexander, I am so proud of you,” he said over dinner that night. “Look at you, not even twenty-five and you’ve changed the world already, done what no one could before.”
“Yeah,” he allowed himself a smile. “Still, not finished yet. But I was thinking, my birthday’s next week, we could… take a break? Go back to New York?”
Magnus rested his chin on his hand and grinned – Alec had finally learnt to take time for himself without guilt weighing him down for it.
His previous birthday, Alec had spent in a coma brought on by attempting to track a missing Jace. This year, he ate and drank with his family around him, his whole family (still unfortunately minus one pint-sized ginger), healthier and happier than ever before.
Revisiting New York and seeing how well Izzy had kept the Downworld Council going without him spurred him ever forward. He could never doubt Izzy, but to see the success of something he created without him involved proved to him that it really could work on a larger scale.
(The Cabinet these days comprised of Izzy, Maia, a less-abrasive Lorenzo, a young-ish vampire named Lily, and Aarie, a Seelie loyal to the new Queen, who just so happened to be Meliorn of all people. He eavesdropped on their meeting during his visit, for curiosity’s sake – they all worked well together, with surprisingly few arguments.)
Thus began His New Life Plan. Step 1, love Magnus until his dying day, or the heat death of the universe, whichever came last. Step 2 – reform the entire government system for the Shadow World.
At least the first one would be simple enough.
He wasn’t entirely sure whether his idea would work – the last time Nephilim had tried imposing their own laws on other peoples’, it had been the Accords. While they had their merits, Alec knew now that Downworlders hadn’t freely agreed to them, and he refused to become another Shadowhunter blindsided by law.
He knew he was doing good, but hadn’t Valentine thought that too?
The idea was to implement a Downworld Council above the role of Consul - the Consul being the leader for all Shadowhunters, but not for the Downworld. The Seelies had a Queen already, a figurehead to represent their interests, but the other races weren’t so… centralised.
His first confidante was, naturally, his own husband.
“I’m just sayin’,” said Alec, mouth half full of food and brandishing his fork in the air. “Councils rolled out at every level. ‘Cause the Consul in Alicante doesn’t have a fucking idea of what it’s like to live and operate in mundane cities, so there’s no way you could have just one vampire or one werewolf making decisions on behalf of the entire community, right? So – local Councils, with local representatives. And then they can convene at a regional level, then national, electing one person to represent the country. Then the national leaders for each race go and have their own government, and each elect one leader who sits on the International Council.”
“Like how you have the Consul and the Seelies have their Queen?” Magnus asked, subtly waving away the food fallen from Alec’s fork. He nodded. “That could work. You already have High Warlocks, pack Alphas and Clan leaders – they might not do it in exactly that way, but they might be amenable to streamlining everything a bit. I can work on the warlock side of it, if you like?”
“Are you sure? It’s probably going to be thankless,” Alec said.
“Darling, no one thanks me for anything I do anyway. I’ve been pushing for an alternative to week-long conferences that don’t go anywhere for centuries now, and besides – you’re my husband. And what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support you in literally making history, hm?”
Alec grinned. “You’ve been dropping the word husband in conversation in literally every place you can for nearly a whole year now, you know that?”
“And I’ll keep doing it for the rest of my life, husband.”
The work was as thankless as Alec had expected it to be, but the exhaustion and long hours never put a strain on his marriage – simply because Magnus was right there with him for most of it. He would keep his office hours of 1pm to 9pm, the equivalent of mundane hours for a species that operated largely nocturnally. He’d come home to Magnus, they would eat, drink, relax for a few hours – and then, because neither of them really could sit complacent when there was work to do, they would work.
Magnus lobbied the warlocks, with centuries worth of contacts and an impressive reputation adding weight to his already-logical argument. He wasn’t the only one who had thought that their governance should change, nor was he the first to push for it – he was simply going to be the first to succeed, due in equal parts to Alec’s support and his own tenacity. There were some who no longer trusted him; thought him a traitor wearing the name of an enemy, pushing a Nephilim agenda; but more and more, especially among the young, warlocks opened their minds to his side, to the promise of having a true equal say in the direction of the Shadow World.
Alec couldn’t convince the shadowhunters, werewolves, and vampires all on his own, however, and he knew that from the start – he wasn’t an idiot. The day after their first wedding anniversary found both Magnus and Alec in Alec’s away office. Izzy had never really found solace in the NY Institute Head’s office the way Alec had, and just plain preferred to be nearer the armoury, so she’d set up her office in another room and let Alec keep the room he’d aspired to since his parents sat behind the desk for when he wanted to work away from Idris.
He’d been sat down with Magnus, Izzy, Simon and Maia, discussing the best strategies for propelling their movement forward, when Jace had barrelled into the room half in tears and grinning wildly, with a very different looking Clary behind him
She remembered Simon almost as soon as she looked at him, eyes frowning and widening almost comically as they ran into each other in a tearful hug.
“Do you…” Simon started, gesturing to the rest of the breathless room. She shook her head.
“You’re all familiar, but I don’t… not really. I’m sorry,” she said.
“That’s okay, Biscuit, it’s not your fault,” Magnus soothed, before Clary made a noise, gesturing wildly at Izzy and Alec.
“Lightwood! That’s you two, right?!” Izzy grinned at her, as Alec tried not to grimace – it wasn’t her fault, after all. “But wait, who are the Lightwood-Bane’s?”
“That would be us,” Magnus said, from his seat atop Alec’s desk, as Alec raised a hand in a mock salute.
“You’re my mystery patrons?”
“This is a very expensive city to live in,” said Alec.
“You’ve been giving me around three thousand a month in supplies and space and donations, for six months!”
“We are very stupidly rich,” Magnus concluded, as Alec shrugged, and the rest of the room gaped at them.
Clary’s re-entry into their life was nowhere near as tumultuous as the first, without the grave danger of her whole family issues, but for the first few weeks before she remembered all the lessons she had learnt last time, she was just as much a wrecking ball. It was lucky Jace had matured a lot over the last year and a half, but Alec still received an apology from Izzy who had now realised the position they’d all put him in last time around.
It seemed as though she remembered more if that person was with her, so Alec & Magnus made their visits a little more regular, often with Luke and Maryse in tow.
When Luke held Clary again, it was the first time Alec had ever seen him openly weep, and his heart went out to him. Luke was a father figure to many (technically Alec’s stepfather, despite Alec being his boss) but Clary really and truly was his daughter.
The extra visits to NY were beneficial to his campaign work, however. He could explain away his absences with overseeing Clary’s return to the Shadow World – she was considered a hero twice over now, and that meant he was neither monitored nor questioned. Enabling him to meet frequently with Maia and Lily, and plan.
He also set up a private audience with Meliorn to explain his idea – while he would probably never consider the faerie a close personal friend, he had shown he truly cared about Izzy in joining the Edom mission, nearly losing his own life to take down Lilith. He respected him as a leader and as a good person, and the fact he had been chosen to be the new Queen was an added bonus to Alec’s plan. Meliorn was as cryptic as ever, but Alec came out of their meeting hopeful that the Seelies were on board nonetheless.
He also came out of the meeting with flowers strewn all over him by playful Seelie children as he left, but who was he to say no to children, really?
Life marched on, and the work Alec and Magnus were doing began to snowball. Alec was kept busy with not only his Inquisitorial duties, but also with travelling to Institutes around the world in that capacity, those who had asked for his assistance in forming their own Downworld Councils. LA came first, at Max’s insistence; he had just turned 16 and was just as stubborn as the rest of his siblings, wearing his father down enough to agree to it as soon as they’d finished rebuilding. They celebrated Luke and Maryse’s wedding, then Clary and Jace’s, and eventually, Izzy and Simon’s, even though their engagement had been first.
They were close – Alec could feel it. Meliorn visited Alicante every few months to discuss anything that might affect both races, and even some of the werewolves of Brocelind Forest, long since dismissed as feral, had settled into the city and formed a pack under Luke’s guidance. Their elected leader, a man named Peter, had met with Alec and Magnus several times, and while they would likely also never be friends, they shared the same ideals, and Peter had agreed to reach out to wolves he’d once known that had left Idris for the rest of the world.
Lily and Raphael had helped enormously with the vampires – after Raphael had completed his studies, he’d decided to travel, giving sermons around the world in places he could never have walked before – and at night, he would visit that city’s clan house, with Lily as protection and guarantor both, spreading the idea as well as helping vampires of all religions stay in touch with their faith. He may have only practiced Catholicism, but just like Simon, he did have personal experience of keeping his own faith alive when he himself was not.
Eight years passed in relative peace; nothing more extreme than the usual political power struggles that took place whether the world was ending or not. Marriage rights had been being given on a case-by-case basis – Alec took immense pleasure at helping finally sign them into law in his fifth year, for both same-sex and Shadowhunter-Downworlder couples. Aline and Helen wasted no time in announcing their own engagement after this, and their wedding was grand, Alec standing as Aline’s best man, the pair wearing dresses for the ceremony and tuxes for the reception along with their beaming smiles.
They were happy, he and Magnus, working hard but enjoying life. Even with the big, Armageddon-esque battle long over, there were still battles to be fought, and although he trusted in their love, Alec was relieved that he and Magnus were just as strong a couple in peacetime as they were in war. Jace and Clary had had a son; surprising all who knew them – but they were good parents, even if Jace panic-called Alec frequently. Isabelle and Simon had decided against having their own, at least for now, Izzy taking a vested interest in the education of Nephilim children and its shortcomings, and working to solve them. Magnus added yet another duty to his list – that of filling in as a guest lecturer, teaching young Nephilim about warlock culture and history, about how the Accords looked from someone who was not only there but also looking from the other perspective.
Alec thrived on seeing Magnus with children, and though they’d talked about adopting, they both agreed that they would know when the time was right – Alec thanked all the gods he knew of that they were on the same page, that Magnus wanted nothing more than a family with him eventually just as Alec did. Truth is, there never really is a “right time” until you’re in it and it’s happened, as they found out a couple months before Alec’s 33 rd birthday – nearly 9 years since he and Magnus met.
A little warlock girl, barely a few months old, left for dead but found and brought to the Institute.
Izzy had called Catarina for help initially, given her locality, but she had been at work at the time and couldn’t slip away, so she called Magnus in her stead. Alec, never one for turning down a chance to see his brother and sister, cleared his schedule, hoping to return to Alicante with a touch more progress.
Not expecting to return a father , anyway. The little girl’s mark had clearly just manifested, far earlier than most children’s – lilac skin beginning to come through as she grew, almost like vitiligo, and striking violet eyes. Clary had been watching her in the Institute’s infirmary, two year old Thomas peering over the sides of the cradle with interest.
Magnus had arrived maybe an hour before Alec, who had been in a meeting at the time of the call, eager to get medical tests out of the way, which meant Alec had arrived to the sight of Magnus cradling and cooing at the tiny baby. He’d seen Magnus with babies before, both as a doting uncle and as a warlock leader happy to assist in whatever capacity deemed necessary, but this… Alec felt like he’d been hit by a truck of pure emotion, an overwhelming sense of right, of correctness.
Walking over to the pair, Alec had held his arms out on instinct, Magnus handing over the little girl readily. The motion, gentle as it was, disturbed her, and she opened her eyes to meet Alec’s, calm and steadily.
“Do you think… we’re ready?” Alec had asked, still staring at her.
“Not in the slightest, darling, but I don’t think you ever can be,” Magnus had responded, voice thick, and Alec had looked up then to see unshed tears in his eyes.
There had to be an effort made to trace the parents, to be assured that she had been abandoned and not forced away or kidnapped; and with Izzy taking the lead on it, to offer support and honesty if wanted. The support, unfortunately, would be too late; mother and baby had jumped into the river, and only her inherent magic had saved the child, hidden her from view and carried her far enough for a patrol team to find her.
Sophia Marisa Lightwood-Bane; first Downworlder child to be raised in Alicante. Maryse had clung to Magnus weeping with joy after she met her for the first time.
After almost a decade of living for themselves, Magnus and Alec took to parenthood mostly easily, although they did have to take turns talking each other down from panic-induced over-cautious moments. They also had to slow down with their work; trusting in their friends, allies and in its own momentum to keep growing.
It would all be worth it, in the end, no matter how long it took.
Sophia was two years old when Alec and Magnus held a family dinner – this wasn’t surprising, considering they tried to do it often, but it was the first time Alec had insisted everyone clear their schedule for it, including Robert. He didn’t come as often as he probably wanted, the spectre of his shame hanging over him still, but this time, he did. Aline and Helen had taken Sophia for the evening, their children eager to spend time with their favourite playmate.
“Rumours say,” said Robert, after dessert had been served, dropping his voice conspiratorially as though the walls of their home would snitch on him, “that Jia is preparing to step down sometime soon.” He didn’t continue, nor did he ask questions, but the prompt was there: Alec, you know more than I do, please, share.
Alec was fairly confident that none of them expect him to know what he knew. How could they? He had only just turned 35, after all.
“Well, there’s some truth to those rumours. But not entirely. Big changes are happening, and that’s actually why we insisted everyone be here,” Alec glanced at his husband for strength, taking in all the love and support for him held in Magnus’s eyes. Before he looked back at his confused family.
Mostly confused, anyway. Luke was clearly struggling to contain his smile.
“Jia isn’t preparing to step down because she already did it this morning, to spend more time with her grandkids. They’re just waiting to make the announcement tomorrow morning instead.”
“Why wait? Have they not elected a replacement already? I know they usually take a billion years to do something, but…” Jace trailed off.
“We have elected a replacement, unanimously. Just… needed to sort some things before the new Consul is ready to announce.”
Magnus snorted. “It’s probably the first time the Council has agreed entirely on anything since before I was even born.” His hand came to settle on Alec’s thigh, grounding him with his soft caresses.
“What sort of things, or are you not allowed to tell us?” Izzy asked, playfully almost, as though even if Alec wasn’t allowed to she wouldn’t find out anyway.
“Nah, I can tell you. Mostly, telling his family.”
He smirked at them all, until comprehension dawned on Maryse’s face. She inhaled sharply, all eyes falling on her as she shakily placed her hands on the table in front of her.
“Alec…”
“Mom.”
“Are you tying to tell us that you’re the Consul now?”
“Well, no.” Alec tried not to laugh at their crestfallen faces as he paused. He could feel the pride, and the mirth at him being a bit of a bastard, radiating from Magnus, and basked in it for a moment, until he saw Robert begin to open his mouth. “At least, not until tomorrow morning anyway.”
Izzy shrieked and threw herself at him, nearly toppling the chair. They were all present at his swearing in ceremony a week later, attended by people of all species and all backgrounds, and this time there wasn’t even a slight chance he’d be referred to as anything other than Consul Lightwood-Bane.
He put a little pride flag on his new desk, and then got right back to it.
While Jia did step down for personal reasons, she also knew that by now, at least 70% of the Shadow World was behind Alec’s proposed changes. It was also made public that the Council knew that a vote for Alec was a vote for a new system; and they had still chosen him, whether because of or in spite of that fact.
It was now time for the Nephilim to vote; Alec’s entire career so far had led up to this moment. It was a simple Yes/No referendum – should the Clave relinquish the control it had held for so long, and become solely responsible for the concerns and needs of Shadowhunters?
The percentage was 72% in favour, but Alec still mourned the 28% until Magnus had pointed out that those positions were reversed, and worse, just ten years ago.
Downworld Councils had formed everywhere there was an Institute by now. Every species had its own local leaders already, and thus found it easy to adjust to local governance, but taking that further had proven difficult. In the warlock community, having a clear central location like Idris proved helpful, but the position of International High Warlock had still come down to an election between Magnus, nominated by a large group of warlocks, and Giovanni Odiare, High Warlock of the Spiral Labyrinth. Magnus won, but by a tight margin, and it cost many sleepless nights and stressful days. For the vampires and the wolves, clan and pack rivalries impeded things at the beginning; Alec remembered fondly one occasion of sitting in on a conference for Alphas in North America where Maia told them in no uncertain terms that they needed to pull their heads out of their asses for the good of all wolves, or “the Praetor Lupus will just take all this over and none of us will get a say”.
Both had eventually agreed as far as having national leaders convene; but with a slight difference. The werewolves elected not an international leader, but an envoy, who would attend the monthly meetings for one year only and then retire – someone who would answer to no country and hold no rank but who would simply convey the wishes of the Global Pack. The vampires simply chose on a monthly basis which world leader would represent them by random draw of all those willing to attend, unless a motion was voted in favour by 75% of a specific vampire representative.
The night after the very first International Downworld Council meeting, held in Alicante, Alec had kept himself composed, until Magnus had brought them a celebratory drink on the balcony and Alec had burst into tears.
“My whole life before you, I denied myself everything because I thought it would be best for those around me, and now, look at this,” Alec said as soon as he could speak again, gesturing to the whole city, celebrations lighting up the skyline. “I have an incredible husband, a family of my own, I’m the Consul, and now… Magnus, look at what we’ve done. We won.”
“Alexander, do you know why it’s less overwhelming for me to experience this moment in time, despite living through the worst of it?” Magnus had asked. Alec shook his head. “It’s because, my love, it’s all just hitting you now. I’ve had years to come to terms with knowing that if anyone could, it would be you.”
“Not without you beside me, not without help, I-“
“I know, I know you couldn’t have done it alone, no one could have. But Alexander, I truly believe that there is no one else but you alive right now who could have done this. Oh, there are people that could have come close, Isabelle being one of them, which very much attests to how incredible your family is, but you… I may not have realised this until long after we were married, but I knew, darling, knew that you could change the world if you wanted. And you did.”
Alec laughed, softly. “I think you might be a little biased.”
“Oh, I’m a lot biased. But if I have learnt anything from history, the history books will remember you, Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane, as the man who changed the Shadow World.”
Alec pulled him close then, touching their foreheads together. “Then if they do that, they had better credit you, Magnus Lightwood-Bane, as the man who changed the Shadow World and the man who changed my world, so that I could.”