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The stars were out in full force tonight; their spears glittering bright and sharp, their armour polished to a shine. Alec spotted his sister in their midst, the most beautiful and dangerous of them all—she was laughing, brandishing her spear with careless grace, outshining all the rest. As Alec watched, a horn blew and she leaped onto the back of her steed, leading the charge through the gates as she always did. The rest of the troop lined up for their turn, jostling and laughing with one another as they took their places for the night’s sorti.

Alec turned away from their abandoned mirth, caressing the neck of his steed and readying himself for his own patrol.

“You are ready, are you not?” he heard behind him, and stifled a sigh.

“Yes, mother.”

“The day court is encroaching on our territory again,” Maryse said, coming up beside him and giving his horse a perfunctory pat on the nose. “We need to mark our boundaries.”

“I know, mother.”

She gave his shoulder much the same kind of pat as she’d given the horse: distracted, disinterested.

“I know you do. Make us proud.”

The night had passed and Alec was nearing the end of his patrol, his head aching with the long travel and the strain of vigilance. He could feel his eyes closing, struggling to keep his balance as his horse led him sure-footed towards his home. In front of him, through the fog of exhaustion, he could see the gates of the night court open to receive him.

He became aware then, suddenly, of a presence on the other side of the border. There was something there—something almost like a glow, at the edge of awareness.

As his eyes closed at last, just before he passed through the open gates, Alec heard or thought he heard a voice. It was a pleasant voice—melodic, joyous, sounding intrigued.

“Who are you?” it said, and Alec let the question follow him into dreaming.

The next night was clear and sharp, and Alec’ whole body felt on edge as he rode out, following the border of his kingdom and glancing across it towards the day court’s realm more than he wanted to admit. He could see what Maryse was talking about, too—although it wasn’t obvious to the mere eye, he could sense that his own land had been shrinking since he first took over his duties from his mother.

But right now, that didn’t occupy his mind nearly as much as the inhabitants of that other land.

Once more, however, his patrol passed without incident. He saw Izzy and a few of the other stars at different points in the night, following their own route across their lands, but he only nodded at them and kept riding on, his gaze focused on the border lands. Hopefully, he’d only appear focused and dutiful, he thought with a twinge of guilt.

He was nearing the end of his watch once more when he became aware of a figure—not the glow he’d been expecting, merely a shadow on the other side of the border, but maybe that could be chalked up to his weariness of the night before. He knew better than to trust his senses from that time completely.

He drew his horse up and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Hello there,” he called.

The figure raised his head and looked at him, with a certain measure of disdain.

“Yes?”

“You’re from the day court, aren’t you?” Alec asked, feeling foolish—a feeling that only grew when the man merely rolled his eyes in reply. Well, Alec could concede that he deserved that. “Were you here yesterday?”

The man scoffed. “I’m here every day.”

“Did you speak to me?”

This warranted a long look and, finally, “No. Why would I have?”

Alec realised he didn’t exactly have an answer to that—nor, in fact, why he’d asked the question.

His patrol the following few nights passed without anything of note. He spoke to the stars that crossed his path, questioning them about any further incursions into their territory, and he spotted both Jace and Maia pass on their respective scouting missions a few times, but otherwise the nights went by in silence and solitude. His was a lonely patrol; the same path every night, unchanging and unyielding.

He’d spotted the man from the day court a few more times, always towards the end of his shift, but had not attempted to speak to him again. And he knew, anyway, that it wasn’t that voice he’d heard. He was beginning to think he must have imagined the whole thing.

And then, one night as his patrol drew towards its end, he saw him.

A man was riding a little ahead of Alec, on the other side of the border. He was tall and dark-haired, sitting straight and proud on a fiery chestnut steed that seemed to dance across the ground. In the waning night, they both seemed to almost glow with warmth. Alec drew in a breath.

The man turned his head suddenly, and to Alec’s astonishment, his whole face lit up with a smile.

“It’s you,” he exclaimed, checking his horse and waiting for Alec to draw up alongside him. “I wondered if I’d see you again.”

There it was—that voice, so sunny and warm. Alec felt his face flush.

“Who are you?” he asked, and the man grinned.

“I believe I asked you first,” he said. “But I’m Magnus Bane, of the day court. And forgive me for asking—might you be related to Maryse Lightwood of the night court?”

“My mother,” Alec said, and added, “Alec.” Magnus smiled at that, and Alec hastened to clarify, blurting out like a fool, “Is my name, I mean. Alec. Alexander Lightwood.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, and Alec was startled to hear his own name spoken so. As if it was something delightful; a gift. “How very nice to meet you. You are on the border patrol? I believe your mother used to have that position.”

“Yes, she’s stepped down,” Alec said. “And you?”

“I’ve held mine for a long time,” Magnus said, smiling again. “But I believe we’re now going the same way for a little while—your shift is ending, and mine beginning. Do you want company on the way?”

Alec ought to say no, of course. In fact, he was definitely going to say no.

“Yes,” Alec said.

Magnus wasn’t there the next night or the one after, and Alec tried in vain to feel relieved. Then, the night after that, he made an even more futile effort to feel annoyed when Magnus, grinning broadly, rode up towards the boundary between their lands near the end of Alec’s shift.

“Alexander!” he called. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Alec said, then felt that this came across too rudely short and added in an attempt to round out his answer, “It’s been a long patrol. But good. No obvious incursions or—um, well.”

“From that pesky day court?” Magnus asked, and laughed as Alec only stared straight ahead along his road, trying to get his face under control. “I’m sorry, that was undiplomatic of me. But I’ve always found this little disputed stretch between us to be kind of silly. It doesn’t matter to either of our kingdoms where the border is drawn, really.”

“It matters to someone,” Alec protested, hotter than he intended. “There are people below us who depend on our respective kingdoms. To them, that could be all the difference. So maybe these silly border patrols still serve a purpose.”

He stopped short, startled at his own vehemence. He’d made this argument before, but never out loud.

(Never to another person.)

Magnus was looking at him, a curious expression on his face. “You’re right,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry, I tend towards lighthearted jest even when inappropriate. But let’s not argue. How are things in your court otherwise?”

Alec felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. There was something incredibly uplifting about Magnus—lighthearted, yes, but not frivolous. A sense of peace that Alec envied sorely.

“Otherwise?” he said, attempting the same light tone. “Otherwise, things are the same as they always are.”

“Oh, it’s like that on your side of the border, too?” Magnus said, and Alec found himself laughing back, startled at how easy it was.

A few nights passed like that. Magnus would sometimes arrive by the end of Alec’s shift, and they’d have time to talk for a bit as they followed their respective patrols in their beaten path. It was never a long talk—Alec was always near the end of his road and Magnus’ was only beginning, but it was a pleasant little end to Alec’s nights, a cheerful way to end a lonesome journey. Alec no longer felt the burden of the patrol lay as heavily on him, and the weariness he’d felt for this rote work was easing with each time.

“Are you trying to take my job now?” Izzy asked him one night, as he stood ready to leave, feeling almost restless as he waited for the gates to open. “You’re raring to go tonight.”

“Oh!” Alec said, feeling caught—realising suddenly that he’d pushed his way to the front of the stars’ line. “Sorry. I’ll back off.”

She laughed at him. “I’m teasing you,” she said gently. “I’m happy to see you’re starting to enjoy your patrols. But I think I’ll still ride out first tonight, OK?”

He grinned at her, bashful. “Sure. Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry, Alec. It doesn’t suit you.” She grinned. “This new zeal for your work does, however.”

Alec frowned. He wondered if there had been a pause before the word “work” there, but Izzy only kept smiling at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

“Sure,” he said lamely. “See you out there, then.”

He saw her out the gate, galloping away proud and fearless as usual, then mounted his own steed and slipped through the gates before anyone else could question him.

He drew a deep breath. A while ago, the last thing he’d have wanted was to prolong his patrol further, but he’d found himself itching to go earlier and earlier lately. He’d never left this early before, and the world looked different to him than usual—lighter but thinner, somehow.

He started along the path following the border, and grinned to himself as he saw someone approaching on the other side.

“Hello,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Magnus looked up, startled. For a moment he seemed to stare straight through Alec, and then his usual smile lit up his face.

“Alexander!” he called. “This is a pleasant surprise. I thought I must be dreaming for a moment.”

Alec fought to keep his face neutral, stopping the ridiculous smile that threatened to break through.

“Thought I’d try to catch you at the end of your shift for once,” he said instead. “Return the favour.”

“Trying to catch the enemy off guard, eh?” Magnus said, grinning, and this time Alec couldn’t stop himself from smiling back.

“I might try and wheedle a few secrets out of you,” he said.

“I’m an open book!” Magnus exclaimed. “Although I’m intrigued by this wheedling, and quite ready for you to give it a try. I’ll make up a few secrets, and you’re very welcome to try and find them out. Go ahead. Wheedle on.”

There was something intriguing in that idea that Alec felt that he wanted time to think about, but mostly it just made him laugh—and laughing, they rode down the edge of the border together.

Alec’s routine changed after that. He began leaving earlier for every shift, catching Magnus at the end of his. They’d ride together, longer and longer each day. The middle of Alec’s shift was still done on his own, keeping to his accustomed path, but at the end of his patrol Magnus would once again join him for another ride together. The time seemed to fly easier with the company to look forward both at the start and end of Alec’s patrol, and he found himself more alert than he’d ever been.

Alec kept a closer watch on Magnus’s kingdom these days as well, noting always how the border crept ever towards his own kingdom’s side—but he couldn’t quite manage to drum up outrage over the fact. It was hard to feel it as an aggressive encroachment by an enemy force when he could tell Magnus cared just as much about his kingdom and his subjects as Alec did himself.

By this point, as he was now both more active and more attentive during his patrols, he’d also caught Magnus riding out from his own court’s gates several times. The first time he saw those gates open and Magnus ride forth in all his most splendid glory, smiling radiantly, the sight had almost knocked him back.

He’s so beautiful, he’d thought, and while he realised that wasn’t really a word you were supposed to use about your antagonistic neighbour, he’d yet to find another that fit.

They were riding together again, talking lightly about respective traditions in their kingdoms, and Magnus was laughing.

“That’s the thing about the winds,” he said. “One track mind, the lot of them. I think it has to come with the scouting work or something.”

“True. I don’t think Jace has changed his mind since I met him,” Alec said. “Or his socks, for that matter.”

That caused Magnus to burst into fresh laughter, throwing his head back just as his horse stumbled slightly on some uneven surface. Magnus gasped, lurching in his saddle—and without thinking, Alec reached out his hand and caught Magnus’s flailing one, steadying him as he slipped sideways.

Neither of them moved for some time, although their horses kept plodding along, too used to their slow walking rhythm to change anything about it. But Alec and Magnus sat still, hand in hand, looking at each other—reaching from one kingdom into the next.

Silly, Magnus had called the border between them once. Alec had never agreed more than in this moment.

Finally, Magnus cleared his throat, and reluctantly, Alec let go of his hand.

“Very gallant,” Magnus said lightly. “Thank you. Goodness knows what might have happened, had I fallen from my horse at this breakneck speed.”

It was a way out, but Alec recalled something else he’d said once—I tend towards lighthearted jest even when inappropriate.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and didn’t follow it up with a joke of his own. It would have been easy, but Alec felt suddenly that he no longer wanted to take the easy way out. Not about this, and not about anything, really.

The rode on, after a while falling back into their usual talk, until Magnus began to yawn and it was time for him to make his way back to his own court while Alec rode on.

“I’ll see you again later,” Alec said.

Magnus seemed to hesitate, then gave him a somewhat sleepy smile.

“We’ll do that,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Alec!” Izzy called to him as he crossed her path, later that same patrol. “Everything good with you?”

“It’s always good,” Alec said. “It never changes, but it’s pretty good.”

Izzy laughed at him. “You used to go on about how your patrol was always the same,” she said. “I thought you’d got out of that mindset.”

“I mean, it’s still true. Just not so bad, I guess.”

“It’s not as though any of us have any great say in what we do,” Izzy said, smiling at him. “You know, it’s not like I make up my own patrols either.”

Alec frowned. “You don’t?”

She laughed again. “You really have no idea, do you? Me and the rest of the stars, we’re basically travelling the same old patterns every night. Don’t know if any of it matters. Our kingdom keeps on shrinking. Although if you’d speak to the winds they’d of course say that we’re on the verge of getting some results—but then they always say that.”

Alec didn’t say anything, because he didn’t really know what to say. Izzy grinned at him.

“Well, I’ll be off on my same old little path. You enjoy yours. And say hi to Magnus from me.”

“You know Magnus?” Alec asked, surprised.

“Sure, he’s always been around for my start of shift, you know. We’re nodding acquaintances, I guess.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Not as close as you, obviously.”

“Izzy…”

“Bye! Have a good rest of your patrol!”

And before he could say anything else, she was off, leaving only laughter trailing behind her.

The following few nights, Alec thought he could sense a change in Magnus. He was still pleasant and welcoming each time they met, but he seemed distracted. Alec would catch him looking out over his kingdom, lost in thought, for long stretches of time.

Finally, one day, Magnus shook himself out of an extended reverie and smiled apologetically.

“I’ve had my head in the clouds lately,” he said. “Sorry.”

“No need,” Alec said, inadequately. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t recognise the feeling—lately he’d found himself unable to concentrate on anything much, feeling his mind always slipping away to the ends and starts of his patrol with the rest of his time passing away in a blur.

Magnus sighed, then shrugged his shoulders back and straightened up. “We’ve come to the time when my realm starts shrinking again.”

That shook Alec out of his own thoughts. He checked his horse and stopped in surprise, looking at Magnus.

“What do you mean? You’ve been encroaching on our borders this whole time I’ve known you.”

Magnus laughed softly, halting his own horse. “I’ve been doing this longer than you,” he said. “And I’ve seen my land shrink and grow, over and over again. Your mother likes to speak of war, I believe, but I’ve always seen it more as a case of taking and giving.”

He looked away from Alec, out over the golden fields of his own kingdom.

“We’ve talked about the people below us,” he said. “How they depend upon us each. But I’ve thought lately that maybe they don’t need each of our kingdoms on their own. Maybe what they actually need is us both—us somehow working together. I don’t know exactly how it works, or how it’s supposed to. All I know is that it does, somehow.”

He looked back at Alec, smiling softly at him. “And since meeting you, I think I’m more at peace with that than I’ve ever been.”

At the end of his patrol that same day, Alec stood just inside the gates of court, lost in thought. Izzy passed him, making some joke he responded to without knowing exactly what he said, somewhere in the corner of his eye he could see his mother beckoning to someone—possibly him, but he was going to feign ignorance on that matter for as long as he could—and in one corner Jace and Maia were excitedly talking about shifting borders noted on the day’s scouting missions. Alec ignored it all, stroking the neck of his horse softly as he mulled through all he’d learned and thought lately.

Finally, as he heard someone say his name far off, he made up his mind. Ignoring the questioning by one of the closest stars, he turned around and rode back towards the gates, and then as he heard his mother shout behind him, spurred his horse and charged suddenly through the gates before anyone could stop him.

It was blindingly light, more than even the very start of his earliest patrols, and he squinted as he rode, following the familiar border path until he saw a horse up ahead.

“Magnus!” he called.

Magnus turned, shock evident on his face, and then checked his horse and dismounted.

“What—” he began, just as Alec cantered up beside him and dismounted in midstep, making his horse trot on a few steps before stopping and causing himself to stumble in the landing. Magnus was there, catching him with steady arms as Alec found his footing, and as they stood together, holding each other right at the edge of their respective realm, Alec thought that he never wanted to let go again.

“What,” Magnus began again, softly, and then as Alec leaned in, he didn’t say anything else, only closed his eyes and sighed as their lips finally met.

It felt like Alec had been waiting for it all his life.

They stood for a long time, wrapped in each other until at last Magnus drew back slightly, leaning his forehead against Alec’s and laughing quietly.

“Oh, that,” he said, and Alec laughed with him. “Finally.”

“I didn’t even know this is what I’ve longed for,” Alec said, almost surprised at his own honesty.

“I did,” Magnus said. “But I didn’t have much hope.”

“Really?” Alec laughed. “You’ve not read me very well, I think. I believe Izzy has known for months. My sister,” he clarified. “The first among the stars.”

“I know Izzy,” Magnus said. “But I also know your mother, and although I really don’t want to say it, I think you can’t get away with being out here for much longer. Not until tonight.”

“Then I’ll have to wait for tonight,” Alec said. "I'm willing to wait for as long as it takes."

He squeezed Magnus’ hands one last time, then went in search of his horse, who had wandered off a few steps. As he came back, Magnus had already mounted and was sitting grinning at him. He leaned across the border between them after Alec had mounted, giving Alec a last, soft kiss.

“I’ll see you at dusk, my love,” he said. Alec smiled back at him.

“And I’ll always wait for you at dawn.”

THE END