Archive of Our Own

The high croon of whipping winds and the frosty chill of the night air signal the beginning of winter on a normally quiet Thursday evening for Alec Lightwood.

Sat by the window, warm forehead pressed to the contrast of cold glass that spreads a delightful tremble down his spine, Alec watches the night descend with the twinkle of stars in the sky and flutters of snowflakes on their way from high above. It’s a sight he cherishes every year - a new snowfall, a new story, a new adventure.

A new chance to find his soulmate.

Faded, but still there on his wrist lies his soulmark, a pale white snowflake with a blush of blue on the branches. Someone out there, perfectly complementary in all the way he hopes, in all the ways he imitates late in the evening when the desires for touch and the longing of love overcome him. The press of fingers against his skin, the chilling voice that whispers ice against his ears and wracks his body with tremors, the almost forgotten flash of glowing green that still lingers in the back of his mind. It calls to him on nights like this, the first snowfall, and Alec knows they’re connected.

It has to be magic that pulls him in. Magic, in all it’s raw and delightful glory, slithers in tendrils around each finger, digit by digit until it’s grasping at his wrist and pulling him out into the night.

And this is no different, because where the warmth of his body heat had pressed against him and soothed the cold now swishes frosty air in the emptiness as he stands out in the falling snow, beckoned by the call of hope.

Hope, the kind to summon light from the darkest of days, the same one that fuels every action and choice. The same hope that he holds close to his heart that he’ll find his soulmate soon, that they’re closer this year than the last. The same kind of hope that so many people in his small town have lost for him because of the way his mark fades against the white of his skin more and more every year.

But their thoughts don’t matter to Alec, and instead of dwelling on the worries of others that have already been matched, he sets his eyes up to the sky and lets the vision of snowflakes calm the physical manifestations of the cold from his body.

Out here he feels free. Encased in the silent affection of what’s meant to be, surrounded by the delicate winter that presses the first cold kiss to his cheek. A droplet slides down the side of his face as it dissolves into wetness, and then another against his nose. Eyes fall shut, the flutter of lashes as a snowflake descends gently onto it, a succession of loving pecks along his greedy skin that soaks it all up.

A whistle then, a trilling melody that the snowfall sings to him, and a hum as Alec sings along.

This feels right, this feels fated. It feels magical.

Eyes flutter open, hazel to absorb the blinding white that drifts closer and closer still. 

Time seems to halt in the presence of magic, slowing to a blur. The snow trickles down, covers his vision until he feels it pierce his sight, feels it spread through his being and invade deep into his core. Magic, darker than the flash of snow, darker and heavier than the hope that spills out of him every morning and evening.

It doesn’t hurt, not until the confusion dissipates and leaves Alec feeling hollow and frozen. Only then does his eye twitch, and only then does he fall to his knees onto the damp grass before him with a cry of anguish and a hand to soothe the ache in his skull. 

But it doesn’t work. 

No matter how hard he digs blunt fingertips into his socket, or how tightly he curls his fist around the blades below him, the pain continues to pulse and gnaw.

It isn’t until his sister is calling his name and guiding him back into the house blindly that he starts to feel some relief, that the cold sunk deep in his bones seems to thaw with the heat of the fireplace.

When Alec awakes in the morning, it’s with a thudding migraine and aching joints that are only exacerbated by the scratchy sheets of his blanket. Water seems to fill his head, sloshing and drowning his thoughts until all he wants to do is paint the windows black so the harsh sunlight can’t sneak through the cracks and blind him further. 

His name, whispered softly from the opening of the door is still too loud, and his sister’s face greets him with worry. “Are you feeling any better?”

“No,” he manages, barely a croak. “I feel like shit.”

“What happened last night?”

A question he has no answer for, because if he’s being honest (and Alec is never anything but), he has no idea. “I’m not sure,” he shrugs, “the snow fell in my eyes.”

Izzy steps closer and tilts his chin up with uncertain fingers, examining any damage she may believe him to have suffered. Under any other circumstance, Alec would have let her. Usually his sister’s care for him makes his chest bloom with fondness, even if it borders on fussy and unnecessary. But this - this just feels wrong. Her fingers on his skin feel too warm and uncomfortable, the scrutiny in her gaze feels malicious and her gentle touches too rough. 

He pulls away in a rush and tries not to catch her frown in his peripheral. “Let me be, Izzy.”

“But Alec - “

“Go away!”

She doesn’t have to speak for him to feel the hurt that radiates off of her, and he doesn’t have to see her face to know it’s furrowed in confusion. But the part that triggers a spark of worry in the recesses of his mind is the lack of shame he feels in letting her leave the room like that. The lack of anything but callous indifference and low-burning annoyance.

The days that pass grow darker in Alec’s vision, days that once held a purpose and thoughts of a brighter future, a different future with the search of his soulmate, now hold stifling monotony.

He doesn’t want every day to be the same, he doesn’t want to sit around and wait for his soulmate to show up and whisk him away. He’s stronger than that. This small town filled with people’s pity and whispered gossip grate on him like the bright light of the sun that stings his eyes and he can no longer control the snap of snark from his lips when he comes across it.

Days are lonelier with Izzy keeping her distance, his only companion while Jace and Max are still visiting their parents. Even Lydia, his calm rock and pleasant tide of positivity in his day-to-day routine has kept him at an arm's length. Alec can’t blame her, it had only taken a half hour in her presence for him to realize the blind optimism and strict work ethic was bullshit and she was clearly trying to cover her own insecurity from losing a soulmate at such a young age. 

The world has changed for him, and if nobody else can see all the bad that really surrounds them, then is that really his fault? Just because people don’t want to open their eyes to the true nuisance that haunts them all in the form of ‘soulmates’, if they refuse to accept that dark magic is what weighs above them and promises true love… Is Alec the bad guy for seeing it all so clearly?

No, he won’t be ostracized for being the only one to see, the only one to really look .

Outside of his small home, the wind shrieks foreboding, boiling water in a kettle high and warning. But Alec won’t listen, because as the sole of his boot sinks into the crunch of white snow beneath him, he remembers the sparks of green from visions before. The hint of a voice he knows calling him out into the dark of night, out into the flurry of white that offers comfort from the life he thought he wanted. 

The winter, his favorite time of the year, the time that crooned hope into his dreams, that gave him visions of a future expected and believed, it pulls him close in its embrace. It wraps him up in freezing arms, a stony embrace of what he knows and what he wants. The love he needs is here, following this path, and all Alec has to do is walk forward.

But something is pulling him back, something is planting his foot into the lush ground beneath.

Izzy.

A grip on his wrist, rough and tight against his skin where the sleeve of his glove and the hem of his jacket expose his soulmark. His sister tugs and tugs, but she makes no progress as Alec twists his arm from her grasp. 

“Alec, we’re in the middle of a blizzard, what are you doing?!”

“I don’t belong here,” he calls out, but Izzy either doesn’t hear his words, or she chooses to ignore them.

“You need to come back inside, you’re going to get hurt!”

Another step, another cry from his sister. He can hear her scrabbling behind him, can hear her hurried footsteps as she rushes to keep up with him. The woods are close now, another step and he’s breaching the top of the hill with his sister still fumbling in the cold behind him. He wonders if he remembers what it feels like to have worry or care, if he can pretend to feel these things for her now. 

But he doesn’t, not anymore. The only thing that fills the cavern of his heart is the cold winter, the helplessness of his destiny being lost on him, magic pulsing into his arteries and feigning life.

The further he goes into the woods, the louder the magic rushes through his ears. Izzy’s voice is no longer a distant wail in the background, now only the whizzing of snow pelting him sounds around him, and it’s almost too much.

Alec grips the bark of a tree, hard and snagging on the material of his gloves, but the support gives his shaky knees some relief. Just a little longer, just a little further. Keep going.

“Are you sure that’s really what you want to do?”

The twinkle of a voice chimes in the night, a mimicry of the snow in his visions. Alec turns left, then right, and then his eyes catch on shimmering green behind him. 

Is this… a dream? Is he asleep? Has he fallen into the snow and this is his last thought before he becomes frozen in the woods?

Elegant shimmering iridescence of a crystalline crown and swirling gold-green eyes contrasting the backdrop of night meet him first. Time seems to refuse passing in this presence, akin to the night Alec caught snow, and as much as he wants to drag his eyes away, to take in any other sort of threat or danger besides the freezing ice around him, he can’t.

“You’ll die out here if you keep on that path,” the presence calls out, and without a sound and unaffected by the blizzard around them, they step closer.

“I don’t care,” Alec murmurs, wondering if his voice gets lost in the howl of the wind. It must not, because as the figure steps close enough for Alec to make out any features, he’s rewarded with a beautiful face marred by a small frown tugging down on plump lips. 

And oh, what a change this is to feel anything other than emptiness inside of him. How different it is to feel a twist of attraction, to note that something in this world is beautiful, is deserving of his praise. Even if it is a stranger in the middle of a blizzard.

“You may not care, Alexander,” the man begins, traveling closer still until he’s standing in front of Alec. As tall as he wants to stand, as much as he’s used to towering over people he finds his weight shifting instinctively, he feels himself sinking into the slush beneath him. It’s cold and he feels the seeping chill in his bones, feels his teeth chattering of their own free will as he peers up at the glow of beauty before him. “But I do,” he whispers, bending down to press a single soft kiss to Alec’s welcoming lips. 

Warmth floods him, maybe not actual warmth, but the cold pulls from the deepest parts of him and fades away, releases itself through his pores and out of existence. Alec, chin tilted upwards and lips parted, opens the eyes he hadn’t even realized he had closed. 

Those eyes smile down at him, a hypnotic swirl Alec longs to get lost in. Maybe he does, he’s not sure how long he’s on the ground for, he doesn’t even feel the throb in his knees from extended use. But there’s a fluttering in his hair now, cold fingers that press against his scalp and twirl around strands, and Alec can’t help but lean into the touch, so starved from weeks of anger and animosity towards anyone who would ever come near him.

“Who are you?”

The fingers in his hair don’t stop, but trail lower to brace the delicate point of his chin and tilt his head to the side. A gentle puff of air brushes against the side of his face and Alec struggles to contain the shivers that tremble down his body. 

“Magnus.”

Alec tastes the word on his tongue, feels the tingle as he says it aloud with reverence. Magnus, he wants to say again. Magnus, please.

A rush travels through him, blood working in overtime to keep him warm, to keep him alive, and it overcomes his mind. “Close your eyes,” Magnus hums above him, and Alec listens. “Let’s take you home.”

Alec wants to protest, but when he opens his lips he’s silenced with a calming finger. Sleep descends on him then in the cold night, and the last thing he feels is the press of Magnus’ long white winter coat soft against his skin, sheltering him from the frostbite that threatens to take him.

Sleep doesn’t come easy for Alec.

It’s not that the plush luxuriousness of the bed he finds himself in is uncomfortable. On the contrary, it’s far superior than the bed he left back home. What nips at him in the dark midnight is the fact that he left his only sister struggling in the cold, and he still feels nothing.

Confusion hits him, for where there remains a hole in his heart for compassion and guilt, it’s simultaneously filled with overwhelming growing attraction to Magnus, burning brighter and stronger than anything he’s ever felt before. 

But in his mind he knows how he should feel, he knows that he should think fondly of his sister and home, of his little town that he’s helped cultivate memories and a life. 

And yet… nothing.

Tomorrow comes and goes for Alec in the blink of an eye.

It’s a palace he finds himself in when he finally wanders out of his room to seek out Magnus, and to appease Alec’s curious eyes, Magnus takes him around the grounds. 

High ceilings and columns of glass fill his view, chandeliers made of ice, and windows stained with a myriad of blues, pinks and purples. Archways extend, stairs trail higher above and down below, and the view from the balcony is breathtaking when they make their way into the frosty air. It doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t look real, but somehow it is. Somehow this fantasy exists, and Alec would be remiss if he didn’t pinch himself for reassurance that this isn’t just an elaborate dream.

Even Magnus looks ethereal, with the crystal crown high on his head, pale blue eye shadow around sparkling eyes and long muscled limbs that Alec can make out through the thin white he wears around the palace. Outside on the balcony however, he dons the same white winter coat Alec remembers the night before in the forest, lined with puffed white and a thin layer of shimmer that catches twinkling light when he moves. He looks regal.

“Where are we?” Alec hears himself asking as he leans against the railing overlooking hills and mountains covered in snow. 

“We’re in a realm that doesn’t exist to common folk, through a break in the mountains that magic keeps hidden. Sometimes those with the sight wander in, but for the most part only magic folk tend to traverse these parts.”

It’s all said matter-of-fact, with a wave of nonchalance that Alec wonders what he’s stumbled into.

“And who are you in all of this?”

Magnus turns to him with a disapproving frown. “Forgotten my name already, have you?”

Alec rolls his eyes and motions to the palace behind them with a wide gesture. “I mean in all of this, who are you?”

The frown doesn’t falter, instead stays firmly planted on Magnus’ face as he turns around to face the grandeur of his own palace. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of the Snow Queen,” Magnus starts, pausing only to wait for a nod of agreement from Alec. It’s been years, but he remembers the stories. “Her name was Lilith, this used to be hers until she was banished several hundred years ago. She ruled over the winters, she controlled the season and consequently became hungry with power. She would steal people in the blizzards, in the night when nobody would notice. But people eventually did notice. My father, particularly. He came to conquer her authority, and in the end he won.”

Magnus trails off for a moment, as if remembering. “Lilith, at the end of it all, was corrupted. She couldn’t see the good in what she had created anymore, couldn’t see anything that was just and fair. She only saw the dark, only saw what was ‘rightfully hers’, and didn’t care about maintaining secrecy. With her last breath in this realm she shattered her crystal staff and descended her darkness on those who she deemed vulnerable. Every year, the first snowfall leads to darkness for some, something only light magic can cure.”

The pain in Magnus’ voice feels tangible, and Alec has to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out. “Is that what happened to me?”

A hum, soft and distant as though Magnus is in another place, and then a nod. “Yes,” he admits. “You fell prey to Lilith’s dark magic, despite my attempts to warn you.”

“Warn - warn me?” Alec stutters.

Magnus turns to face him fully then, eyes piercing and narrowed. “Was it not a warning every winter for you to stay away from the first snowfall?”

Like a sputtering fish, Alec’s lips fall open and shut, once, then twice. “So it was you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“I-I’m not… sure,” Alec shrinks into himself, shoulders hunched and eyes cast downward towards the snow below them. “I thought - I hoped it was you calling to me, trying to reach out and find me… my soulmate.”

Silence wraps around them, slow and gentle, prodding hope from where it sprouts back into life inside of Alec. Carefully, Magnus reaches over to run silver polished nails along Alec’s hand until he’s extending his palm face up.

“You’re right,” Magnus says softly, fingers tracing the pattern of the faded snowflake on Alec’s wrist. “I was trying to reach you, but I needed to keep you safe, Alexander. I wanted to warn you before it was too late, but I failed anyway. I wasn’t able to help you after all.”

Alec frowns and turns to face Magnus, whose hands continue to trace his skin, entirely too distracting. “But you did. I felt the darkness, I lost hope, I - I stopped - “

Magnus silences him with a look. “I didn’t protect you like I wanted to, not fully. I messed up, and I’m paying the price for it now.”

“What price?”

A smile, so sad and full of answers fills Magnus’ features, and Alec wishes he could decipher it all, wishes he could ease the sorrow so prominent. “To see you, to have you so close, and know that this can never be. Not as long as I’m here.”

The desire to reach out and touch Magnus, to sink before him and beg him to let this be, to let Alec stay so they can be together is so strong that Alec has to forcibly grip the banister of the balcony to keep his hands in place. Magnus notices, of course he does, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

“Alexander,” he trails, glancing at the scene before them, the beautiful snow pristine and untouched on mountaintops no higher than the top of the palace. “As long as my father is still banished with Lilith to keep her at bay, I must stay here and watch over the winter.”

“Then I’ll stay with you,” Alec shrugs as if he’s solved the problem. “You’re my soulmate.”

Magnus sighs. “I can’t be, not anymore. Haven’t you noticed how faded your mark has become? It’ll disappear eventually, as long as I’m required. And no, you can’t stay here with me.”

“Why not?” Alec huffs, indignant.

“You have a family,” Magnus explains. “Your sister needs you.”

The guilt he knows should be there never manifests, the gnawing pulse of regret at leaving her behind, none of it forms inside of him. He had just left her, had just run away like a child angry at the world for not giving him what he wanted, angry for being vulnerable enough to fall victim whether he knew it or not. He wonders if he should voice these thoughts aloud, but he chooses not to.

“I need you ,” he murmurs, pathetic even by his own standards.

Lightly, Magnus steps closer, offering a small hint of a smile through the stern look on his face. “You have me,” he says into the small space between them as he lifts a hand to Alec’s chest, pressing insistent fingers to the spot where his heart beats rapidly. “Right here, Alexander. Always.”

He wonders if it’s enough to keep Magnus in his heart, the soulmate he’s been waiting for, the other half of him he didn’t know he needed this much until now. He wonders if he can survive without him, without even knowing him more than the flimsy hours around the palace and on the balcony.

At the very least, he needs more time.

Magnus allows Alec a few days' time before he has to return home, and Alec soaks it all up in time spent at Magnus’ side. 

They talk about everything. Magnus explains light magic and dark magic, glosses over the bits he deems boring, and from there they develop different theories on how to free Asmodeus from Lilith’s banishment. Her dark shards from the snowfall still hold her power, and Magnus has theorized that destroying one of them would negate enough of her magic that Asmodeus may be able to escape her clutches. Without a way to test it, however, it remains just wishful thinking. 

So they turn to displays of magic, and Magnus delights in showing Alec small tricks with the flick of his wrist and flecks of glitter that fall to the ground when he snaps his fingers. Magnus, by all regards, is the most magical being Alec has ever seen in his life.

The only one, really, but that’s beside the fact. 

Magnus is… incredible. Perfect, even. Magnus tells him tales of witches and warlocks, tells him stories of the past and famous figures that Alec never knew existed, but can tell of their importance from just Magnus’ recounting. He finds himself hanging off of every word Magnus says, mooning after each sway of his hips in the thin material of his pants, and eyes stuck when his shirt falls open to reveal a sliver of the chest beneath.

Alec wants him, he realizes quickly. More than he’s wanted anyone or anything before. There’s a pull between them, undeniable when they stand close, and excruciating when they’re far apart in separate rooms. It’s unwise to think Magnus doesn’t feel it too, because if the wistful looks Magnus shoots his direction are anything to go by, he’s struggling to stay away just as much as Alec is. 

It’s on the last night Magnus has allowed them that Alec finds himself dropping to his knees in front of Magnus who sits before him on his throne of ice, a plea on his brow and a whimper on his lips. 

“Magnus, please,” he whispers, bowing his head.

“Please what, Alexander?”

The force and strength in Magnus’ voice sends a thrill down Alec’s spine, and he presses his palms into his knees to steady himself. “I need you,” he breathes. “I need more than this.”

The halls around them seem too quiet, an impossible hush befalling the empty palace with the sound of the hammering in his chest being the only noise in Alec’s ears. Finally, after several powerful seconds, Magnus stands before him. “Look at me.”

Immediately, Alec’s focus snaps up to Magnus above him, intoxicatingly beautiful. 

“Alexander,” Magnus says, the glowing pierce of his gold-green eyes penetrating Alec’s stare.

“Y-Yes,” he responds, breathless. 

“Stand up.”

Perplexed, Alec does as he’s told and rises  to his feet quickly. Magnus levels him with a stare that Alec can read clear as day in front of him. Confusion, anger, sadness, longing… All of it so apparent, so openly shown to him, and yet Magnus is resisting.

“You’re going home soon,” Magnus states.

Brow furrowed, Alec shakes his head. “I want to stay here with you.”

“Alexander,” Magnus sighs his name, exasperated in nature but still said in a way that makes Alec’s legs tremble. “You can’t. You belong back at home, you belong in the real world.”

“I belong with you,” Alec snaps, balling his fists at his side. “ You’re my world.”

Stunned wide eyes peer back at him, and if Alec could feel anything other than this desperate longing for Magnus, he knows he’d feel embarrassed at his outburst. But he means it, he feels it. This is what he wants, what he needs, just Magnus. 

“Just,” he chokes on the word. “At least kiss me. Just once.”

At that, Magnus casts his gaze aside and frowns. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

A shake of his head, perfectly crafted strands of black and blue swaying with the motion, and then Magnus is stepping away from Alec. “I kissed you once, in the blizzard,” Magnus explains. “Twice would remove your memories of your old life, free to fill with whatever I desire or command. And a third would kill you.”

The words hang between them, the implications heavy and the appeal entirely too enticing to Alec at the prospect of Magnus practically handing them their chance together on a silver platter. “Then kiss me, make me forget.”

Magnus laughs, loud and sarcastic and unbefitting the magical entity presents himself as in that moment. 

“I will not. You deserve your free will, you deserve a chance to live, I will not take that from you, and I will not let you waste away at my every beck and call.” Before Alec can protest, Magnus silences him with a raised finger. “We have company.”

The click of heels along glass, the sound of them scraping the ice below in a wincing grind irks Alec's nerves, makes him grimace and turn to face the intruder.

Long black locks and deep brown eyes greet him when he turns to see his sister’s face, and the annoyance that swells within him rises to the surface.

“Izzy, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to save you,” she manages through gasps of air, the adrenaline seeming to fade with every lungful. “I’m bringing you home.”

“How did you - “

“I gave her the sight,” Magnus interrupts. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t choose to leave on your own, so I called in reinforcements, so to speak.”

Alec scoffs, anger striking hot the fire inside of him that sparks to life. “I finally found my soulmate after all these years, and even he doesn’t want me.”

Izzy’s confused lilt of “Soulmate?” is drowned out by the rush of Magnus rounding on Alec in his own rise of anger, looming over him in a way that Alec tries not to find exciting.

“Do not ever accuse me of not wanting you, Alexander,” Magnus growls, leaning so close Alec can feel the harsh breaths on his face. “I fear I want you too much, and I may do something stupid if I’m not incredibly careful with you. But this cannot be as long as my father is trapped with Lilith, please believe me.”

This close, Alec almost caves, almost gives into the temptation to kiss Magnus. This close, he can smell the trickle of winter that radiates off of Magnus. The snow, the trees in the forest, he can smell the blizzard that first night. All of it fills his senses, calms the rage that bellows to take what’s his, what fate has decided he is worthy of. But Magnus’ eyes, surrounded by the same glitter that sparked from his fingertips the nights before when they had sat side by side enjoying each others’ presence, hold a pained resignation that quells the hurt and injustice Alec wants to cry out against.

Slowly, so slowly it almost hurts, Alec takes a step back, and then another. A hand wraps around his wrist, grips the spot that holds his faded soulmark, and tugs gently until he’s walking back out of the throne room with his sister leaving Magnus, a fading vision before him like so many dreams come and gone.

The trek back home is filled with silence, so much that the wind hardly swirls around them. It’s calm, serene, full of regret that Alec wishes he could feel but only paves the way for the urge of defiance he has to forcibly tamp down on. 

He wonders if Magnus made the trip back easy for them, if he commanded the winds to cease and the snow to stop midair, only to descend once they’ve passed. Izzy says very little, asks questions only when a misstep causes an interaction between them, but even then Alec’s responses are quick and unmotivated.

It isn’t until they reach their home, exhausted and wet from melted snow, that his sister finally cracks.

“That was Magnus,” she begins, hesitant, “and he’s your soulmate?”

Alec nods, not able to manage much more than that when the images of glowing green fill his memories.”Yeah,” he croaks, throat burning from more than the cold air outside. 

“He wasn’t some crazy evil guy that stole you away and turned you horrible?”

Taking the moment to try and stifle down the anger and aggravation that starts to kindle itself with its own fire, Alec shakes his head and takes the small living room in as though he has never seen it before. It’s adequate enough. Still too small, too worn, too lived-in. But this is what he’s being forced to choose, and leaving doesn’t seem like such a viable option anymore when the results of that first attempt led him straight back here. 

There are arms around him then, soft and comforting and warm. Izzy.

“I’m so sorry, Alec,” she mumbles into his back where her face is pressed and pooling tears onto his clothes. The irritation is swift to draw forth, and he’s about to push her away when the sobs wracking her body stop him short. “I was so scared I had lost you.”

Conflict forms inside of his heart and mind at her words. The darkened part of his mind wants to shove her aside, wants to tell her to stay away from him, that she cost him Magnus. But the part deep in the crevices of his heart where light begins to shine, where he once held so much love and adoration for his sister wants to pull her into his arms and comfort her, to ease her worries for his safety. A battle begins to stir, rages into a storm and whirls around until it becomes a culmination of excruciating pain that builds behind his eyes. Every throb, every sting, every burn, all of it draws a cry of agony from him until he’s sagging to the floor with his sister crying out his name behind him in a familiar display.

The pain seems to last forever, a relentless tide that Alec can’t seem to surface from, and he wonders if this is what he gets for entertaining the thought of staying with Magnus when he didn’t deserve to. He wonders if Magnus can see this, if Magnus knows what’s happening, if Magnus knew this would happen.

The torturous slew of pain continues to rise, more and more, higher still, until finally - finally - it peaks and clatters a small crystal onto the floorboards beneath them. Confused, Izzy moves to pick it up, holding it high to the light to examine what it could be.

“Glass?”

Alec blinks the remnants of the ache from his eyes slowly, breathing labored and Izzy’s hand on his shoulder no longer aggravating the disgust that slowly dissipates from his heart. He turns to his sister, watching her wide-eyed and guilty. 

“Izzy,” he gasps, rushing to pull her into a tight hug. “Izzy I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

There are more tears that fall onto his shoulder as they continue to hold each other, Izzy’s watery explanation of the past few weeks, her worries, all the confusion pours out into muffled words against his chest. He soothes the hurt, soothes the pain as best as he can, and hopes that any damage he’s done can be repaired over time. 

As freeing as it was to feel no remorse, no regret or sorrow, it’s even more freeing to give into the emotions, to give into basic human decency and begin to patch things back up. 

They talk for hours, wrapped up in blankets by the fireplace once the tears have subsided, and Alec explains everything that happened after he left her in the blizzard. He speaks of Magnus, of magic and ice palaces. They laugh about some of the tricks Magnus showed him, and sober up at the story of Lilith and Asmodeus. 

When Alec talks of their theories, Izzy’s eyes brighten and she retrieves the small shard of glass from the floor. 

“Do you think…” She trails off, watching him carefully.

Realization hits Alec, and with an eager nod he gives Izzy the honors of what he hopes to be the right decision.

With a grin on her face, she stomps the small shard between the ground and the heel of her shoe, snuffing out any remnants of dark magic left inside.

The good thing about small-town life, Alec tells himself, is that it’s easy to get back into. 

After reconciling with his sister, apologies to anyone he wronged when he was infected with dark magic was next on his to-do list. Lydia had welcomed him back with a genuine smile and a warm hug. Maia had punched his arm rather harshly and let him know if he ever acted like that again she wouldn’t hesitate to leave a mark. Simon claimed to notice no difference, but accepted the apology as an extension of friendship that Alec quickly had to retract.

All in all, things were looking up. The next months pass easily enough for the Lightwoods, but sometimes in the dark of night Alec finds himself still waiting by the window, cheek pressed to the cold glass that he wishes was stained blue, wondering if anyone will show. But nobody ever does, and even his dreams leave no possibility of hope. Where Magnus once called to him, once offered the touch of his affection, now he receives nothing.

The mark on his wrist still fades a little more each day. It melts into his skin like a real snowflake, and though Alec longs to feel the touch of the snowfall on his skin in the early mornings, that, too, has ceased. Snowfall comes only at night when Alec is asleep, something he’s rationalized as intentional on Magnus’ part.

Where hope once buried itself, now remains content patience. He knows the truth about his soulmate now, he knows why Magnus made the choices for them that he did, and he only regrets the way he left. Despite the process of events, and the bridges that he almost burned, Alec wouldn't change knowing Magnus for anything. For as long as he’s allowed his memories, he’ll remember the longing glances exchanged across the room, each and every subtle touch when they would brush past each other in the halls of the palace, and  the heat from Magnus’ body when they would sit beside each other and talk for hours.

A knock at the door brings him out of his thoughts, and though Alec isn’t expecting guests, he hurries to pull it open. 

Magnus - beautiful, incredible, wonderful Magnus - greets him on the other side. Warm white coat, silver flecks of glitter around his eyes, and a hesitant, hopeful smile. 

“Magnus,” Alec hitches, breath catching in his throat at the sight. 

“Alexander,” Magnus responds warmly. “Can I come in?”

“O-Of course!”

Alec steps aside to let him in, affording himself the few moments of silence as Magnus walks in to appreciate the sight of him in his small, cozy home. Magnus doesn’t belong here, Alec knows that he doesn’t quite fit in, in all his grand splendor, but Alec can’t deny how good he looks here. 

They’re on the couch by the fireplace when the errant worry that maybe the fire is too hot for the Ice Prince sneaks into Alec’s mind. Before he can ask, however, Magnus speaks. “You did it, you know. I wanted to thank you personally.”

“It worked?”

Magnus nods. “It took some time, but as soon as I felt the change, I knew what had happened, and I knew it was successful.”

“So your father was able to keep Lilith banished?”

“Yes,” Magnus smiles, shifting closer and making Alec’s heart race. “When my father returned he gave me a choice. I could stay and watch over winter, as I had been for years. I could stay and remain a fairy tale that people who have the sight will go back to tell their families. Or I could leave and be free.”

Alec swallows, glancing down at the space still separating them on the couch, scrutinizing every thread he can make out in the over-used cushion. “What did you choose?”

Fingers tread closer to his, dance across the couch and along Alec’s thigh until they’re clasping through his own and slowly, he lifts his head to Magnus’ eager smile. 

“I chose happiness, Alexander. I chose you.”

Relief rushes through rapidly, bubbles a laugh from Alec’s throat, and Magnus pulls him into a tight embrace that they hold for longer than either of them care to put a number to. 

They take solace in each other now, sitting comfortable and warm, with bodies pressed together and Magnus’ fingers treading through the thick locks of Alec’s hair. It feels... Amazing. It feels unreal, unbelievable to be sitting in the arms of his soulmate, to feel Magnus’ even breathing beneath his weight, to know he’s actually here, and that they can truly be together. That he has finally found his soulmate.

“Magnus,” Alec hums lightly after what feels like hours tangled in each other. Magnus offers a small noise of content in response, but refuses much more than that. “Hypothetically, if you were to kiss me… would I still lose my memories?”

When Magnus laughs, it doesn’t sound out of place like it did in the palace. It sounds natural and free, a full blossoming spring of affection. “Why don’t we find out?”

Alec wrinkles his nose, “I would rather like to keep my -”

Lips against his own cut Alec off, a warm pressure so different than their first time in the blizzard. A moment, just a moment of hesitation, and then Alec is leaning into the kiss. It’s slow and soft like the delicate snowfall they shared for so many years, until the storm rises and it soon becomes a flurry of pecks, a quick succession of kisses greedy for more, hungry for what was refused for so long. 

Suddenly, Magnus pulls back.

“I think it’s safe to say you remember everything, so no need to keep going.”

Alec rolls his eyes, the grin on his lips betraying the annoyance he feigns as he pulls Magnus back to him by the front of his still worn coat.

They’ll have to explain what happened when Izzy returns and figure out what Magnus is going to do now that he’s not locked up in an ice palace for all of eternity. But for now, wrapped up and kissing lazily in the warm cocoon of new love, the only thing that matters is that they have each other, at last. Two souls connected, two hearts matched forever, and they have all of that time to figure out what the future holds for them, together.