#humming them to himself steadies his aim and propels him forward in battle-- as if trying to get to somewhere. or to someone

[thedragonagelesbian]

i just think varric’s capstone focus ability in dai should’ve been about how much he loves cyrus hawke and it’s a HUGE oversight on bioware’s part that canon does not reflect this.

[silver-lily-louise]

The Finer Things In Life

Summary: Magnus comes back into view, hand-to-hand with the last Circle member as he conserves what’s left of his magic after a gruelling battle. Magnus clearly has the upper hand, his centuries of combat experience making itself known – The Circle member loses their footing, stumbling into Magnus and knocking him overboard. (In which Magnus is forced to face an old fear, and Alec's a supportive husband.)

Read it on AO3, or below!

~oOo~

Maybe we should start asking them to come to us, Alec thinks irritably, even as his arrows strike home in the hearts of three more demons. Across the deck, there’s a high-pitched explosion as Magnus dispatches two Shadowhunters – Circle members, who’ve crawled out of the woodwork yet again, still loyal to the cause even after their network’s been all but eradicated.

The boat rocks slightly, the docks tilting in and out of Alec’s peripheral vision on his right; his core flexes, keeping him steady enough to send the next arrow through the skull of one of Jace’s assailants. He’s not complaining about being roped into this – he’d much rather that than have one of his siblings come home hurt, or worse – but lately it feels like every time he and Magnus are back in New York for a visit, there’s some emergency. Usually, one big enough that Isabelle has to leave the Institute and head up her own team, rather than managing remotely through Ops as she does day-to-day. And when things are that serious, of course the two of them are going to help out. 

The sounds of fighting are beginning to die down, now; on their boat, and echoing across from the three others nearby. It was a well-coordinated attack, Isabelle’s tactical mastery coming into play, and the Circle members – as well as the hordes of demons they’d been summoning – are dropping like flies, unprepared for the onslaught of what is pretty much the entire New York Institute.

But they’re not out of the woods just yet; a fact Alec is immediately reminded of as Magnus comes back into view on his left, hand-to-hand with the last Circle member as he conserves what’s left of his magic after a gruelling battle. Magnus clearly has the upper hand, his centuries of combat experience making itself known – so Alec aims his bow towards the last few demons instead, content to simply keep an eye on Magnus in case the tables turn and he could use an assist.

Which is how he witnesses the Circle member losing their footing, stumbling into Magnus and knocking him overboard.

Alec’s stomach drops. ‘Magnus!’ he yells, running for the edge, leaping over the Circle member’s prone form even as one of Clary’s throwing daggers sinks into their neck. He leans over the railing, scanning the water – and there’s a moment of relief as his gaze quickly finds Magnus, upright and moving. But it’s short-lived, because Magnus isn’t just moving – he’s desperately striking out, his arms almost a blur, his head occasionally dipping beneath the surface.

He can’t get out. The realisation seems to punch Alec in the gut. The docks are too high to climb, he was low on magic, he can’t get out - ‘Izzy, pull us up!’ he hollers – and he doesn’t wait for a reply before he holsters his weapons and jumps.

Alec hits the water feet first, arms crossed over his chest, and the impact somehow knocks the air from his lungs. He scrambles upwards, gasping for breath as he breaches the surface, eyes immediately finding his husband again. ‘Magnus!’ He strikes out towards him, calling his name over and over but not getting any response.

Several painful, eternal seconds later, he’s close enough to reach out, treading water as he tries to avoid Magnus’ flailing attempts to keep himself afloat. ‘Magnus- Magnus!’ Alec manages to grab his husband’s wrist, giving himself a window of opportunity to close the last of the distance between them and take a still-struggling Magnus firmly in his arms. ‘Magnus, honey, you gotta calm down, okay? I got you. I got you, it’s okay.’

Magnus finally stills, his arms latching around Alec’s neck in a death grip, his breaths heavy and irregular against Alec’s throat. ‘Alright, you with me?’ Alec asks, and he feels a nod against the crook of his neck. ‘Okay. I’m gonna take us back to the boat.’ His right arm leaves Magnus’ waist as he begins propelling them back towards safety, and Magnus’ hold on him gets impossibly tighter. Alec leans back, kicking more strongly now.

He glances over his shoulder, changing trajectory a little as he sees the glint of silver, reaching out towards it the second he can. He wraps the end of the whip around his hand a few times and clutches it, before giving a couple of sharp tugs. ‘Alright, going up,’ he murmurs. ‘Just hold on. I got you.’ The whip digs into his palm as they’re pulled up, his shoulder aching in protest. He ignores it all and just holds on for dear life.

And then there are hands on him, Izzy and Jace and Clary grabbing ahold and heaving the pair of them back up onto the deck – and then he’s kneeling, Magnus still held tightly in his arms. ‘Magnus?’ Clary says, tentatively, keeping her distance. ‘You guys okay?’ Jace asks.

‘Yeah, we’re okay,’ Alec confirms, because he doesn’t think Magnus is up to talking just yet, still hiding his face in Alec’s shoulder. ‘We’re okay,’ he repeats, dropping his voice again so it’s just for Magnus’ ears. ‘It’s okay, honey, I got you -’ He knows he’s repeating himself, knows some of what he says is meaningless. But he keeps it up, his idle, anxious comfort, a quiet voice to reassure while Magnus gradually loosens his grip and gets his bearings.

It’s not long before Magnus is pulling away, taking a deep breath, glamored eyes flicking between Alec and the others. ‘Alright,’ he says softly, his mouth tugging up into a half-hearted reassurance of a smile. ‘Alright.’ He nods decisively, seemingly to himself, leaning on Alec a little as they get to their feet.

There’s the quiet buzz of approaching voices, the teams from the lower decks making their way to the top. Izzy throws Magnus a smile, wordlessly excusing herself to check in with them, and Jace swiftly follows. ‘Clary,’ Alec says, ‘can you get us out of here?’ Magnus is already tensing up a little, ready to put on a brave face in front of Izzy’s troops, and Alec would much rather just get him home before it becomes an issue. Clary nods. ‘Sure, yeah.’ She pulls out her stele, deftly tracing out the portal rune, and the golden gateway blinks into existence before them. ‘Thank you, Biscuit,’ Magnus says. Clary smiles, laying a hand on his arm. ‘We’ll see you again before you head back, right?’ ‘Of course,’ Magnus reassures her. Alec shoots her a grateful look, and then he and Magnus step through the portal together.

The docks dissolve around them, replaced by the white glow of their suite at the Baccarat. (Before they left Alicante, Alec had pointed out that he has a perfectly serviceable room still available at the Institute, but Magnus had insisted. Alexander, he’d said, amusement coloring his tone, I will convince you to enjoy the finer things in life if it’s the last thing I do.) Alec stifles a chuckle, because nothing says yeah, I belong in a premier suite at a five-star hotel like standing in the middle of one whilst covered in blood and ichor and silt.

He turns to face Magnus with a soft smile. ‘Shower, then food?’ he suggests. Magnus gives a deep sigh, nodding once. ‘Absolutely.’

***

An hour and a half later, they’re clean and dry, warm and well-fed. Alec’s iratze is holding strong, soothing the ache in his shoulder. He busies himself for a few minutes by tidying away the leftover cavatelli, and then wanders over to join Magnus on the couch, sinking down beside him with a groan. Magnus’ mouth quirks. ‘Quite a day, hm?’ Alec just hums in agreement.

They’re quiet for a while, comfortable in each other’s company, only the low strains of a waltz breaking the silence. Part of the melody falls in a tripped, steady pattern, and Alec taps it with his fingers, smiling when he realises why it seems so familiar. ‘Was this… written for a warlock, or something?’ Magnus frowns a little, looking at him curiously. ‘I have absolutely no idea. Why do you ask?’ Alec taps a little more insistently. ‘That rhythm – it’s a heartbeat, like yours. That… badum-ta. Badum-ta.’ It’s a rhythm that he knows as well as his own heart’s ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum at this point.

Magnus’ gaze meets his briefly, seeming to melt a little. ‘So it is. Perhaps I’ll look it up when we get home.’ He looks away again – but the spell of silence seems to be broken, and he sighs. ‘Alexander, I realised that I haven’t yet thanked you for today. For pulling me out of there.’ Alec just shakes his head. ‘You don’t need to thank me for that,’ he says softly. ‘I’ll always help you if I can.’ ‘And I appreciate that, I do. But you shouldn’t have had to today.’ Magnus’ jaw twitches in self-annoyance. ‘There was no danger. There was no reason for me to react the way I did,’ he chides.

Alec sits forward a little. ‘Hey,’ he says gently, waiting until Magnus meets his eyes again. ‘You know that’s not true. You told me what happened when you were a kid, and the effect it had on you.’ He reaches out, fingertips brushing against Magnus’ forearm. ‘Magnus, everyone’s afraid of something. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the strongest person I know.’

There’s quiet again for a moment – and then Alec watches, relieved, as the last of his husband’s doubt and embarrassment fades, leaving only a fond smile. ‘When did you get so wise, Alexander?’ Magnus murmurs. Alec sits back again, letting out a deep, contented breath. ‘Learned from the best,’ he says.

Magnus takes his hand, claiming it as he leans back against Alec’s shoulder. ‘You know,’ he says airily, ‘I didn’t realise we were revisiting the pet names conversation.’ ‘What? Are we?’ Alec says, confused. ‘I assumed so. After all, earlier, when you dove in to get me? You called me honey. Twice.’ He glances back up at Alec, giving a small, mischievous grin.

Alec’s face contorts for a moment as he tries to find an appropriate response. ‘…I guess I did,’ he says finally, feeling a low blush spread across his face. He shrugs, deceptively casual. ‘Well, it’s accurate.’ Magnus’ teasing smile grows. ‘Oh?’ Alec knows what he’s expecting. Because you’re sweet. It’s true, of course; but what he actually says is, ‘Yeah, I mean – you came into my life one day and just …stuck. And before I even knew what was happening, you were everywhere.’

Magnus’ head snaps up, and he stares at Alec in incredulous offence. ‘That’s your reasoning?’ Alec tries to look as innocent as he can. ‘Of course,’ he says, before wrinkling his brow a little in apparent confusion. ‘Why, what did you think I was gonna say?’ Unfortunately, he can’t keep a straight face for long – he blames the wine they had with dinner – and of course, once he cracks, Magnus isn’t far behind. ‘Alright, I will admit,’ Magnus says grudgingly, ‘that your line of reasoning is slightly adorable.’ Alec smiles in triumph. ‘And by the way,’ he says – more softly, now – ‘I’m really glad you did. Stick around, I mean.’

Magnus returns his smile – and then sighs, resettling against him. ‘You do realise,’ he says, slyly, ‘that if you’re now calling me ‘honey’, that puts ‘pup’ back on the table.’ ‘Absolutely not,’ Alec declares.

The rest of the evening devolves into bickering and laughter and slow, sweet kisses, the music with a warlock’s heartbeat rippling around them. He loves Magnus more than anyone in the world, but he’s also pretty sure his husband was wrong yesterday. Alec definitely appreciates the finest things in his life.