Queen of Air and Darkness
Page 184
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Then Magnus had met Alec. He had felt drawn to him in a way he couldn’t have explained or anticipated: He had wanted to see Alec smile, to see him be happy. He had watched Alec turn from a shy boy with secrets to a proud man who faced the world openly and unafraid. Alec had given him the gift of faith, a faith that Magnus was strong enough to make not just Alec happy, but a whole family happy. And in their happiness, Magnus had felt himself not just free, but surrounded by an unimaginable glory.
Some might have called it the presence of God.
Magnus just thought of it as Alexander Gideon Lightwood.
* * *
“Let us begin,” Jia said.
Emma had risen to her tiptoes in excitement. They had all known that there was going to be a surprise wedding on the beach—a surprise to Magnus, at any rate. If Alec had been nervous, he’d done a good job of mostly hiding it. No one else had thought Magnus might say no, but Emma remembered the slight tremble of Alec’s hands earlier, and her heart bubbled with happiness that it had all worked out.
Jace stepped forward to help Alec into a dark blue gear jacket printed with golden runes, while Catarina draped a cobalt-and-gilt silk jacket around Magnus’s shoulders.
They both moved back, and a hush fell over the crowd as Jia spoke.
“Through the centuries,” she said, “there have been few unions between Shadowhunters and Downworlders that have been recognized as such. But a new age has dawned, and with a new age come new traditions. Tonight, as Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood blend their lives and hearts, we stand ready to recognize this union. To witness a true bond between two souls who have cleaved to each other.” She cleared her throat. She looked a bit drawn, as she had in the Council Hall, but much less tired. There was delight and pride in her face as she gazed around the gathered group. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood. Hast thou found the one thy soul loves?”
It was a question asked at every wedding: part of the Shadowhunter ceremony for a thousand years. The crowd hushed, the hush of holiness, of sacred ritual observed and shared. Emma couldn’t help but reach out to hold Julian’s hand; he drew her against his side. There was something about the way Magnus and Alec looked at each other. Emma had thought they would be smiling, but they were both serious: They looked at each other as if the other person were as brilliant as a full moon that could blot out every star.
“I have found him,” Alec said. “And I will not let him go.”
“Magnus Bane,” said Jia, and Emma could not help but wonder if this was only the second time in history that this question had been asked of a warlock. “Hast thou gone among the watchmen, and in the cities of the world? Hast thou found the one thy soul loves?”
“I have found him,” Magnus said, gazing at Alec. “And I will not let him go.”
Jia inclined her head. “Now it is time for the exchanging of runes.”
This was the moment when, in a traditional ceremony, Shadowhunters would Mark each other with wedding runes and speak the words of the vows. But Magnus could not bear runes. They would burn his skin. Puzzled, Emma watched as Jia pressed something that flashed gold into Alec’s hand.
Alec moved closer to Magnus and Emma saw that it was a golden brooch in the shape of the Wedded Union rune. As Alec moved toward Magnus, he spoke the words of the Nephilim vows: “Love flashes out like fire, the brightest kind of flame Many waters cannot quench love, nor can the floods drown it.” He pinned the brooch over Magnus’s heart, his blue eyes never leaving Magnus’s face. “Now place me as a seal over thine heart, as a seal over thine arm: For love is strong as death. And so we are bound: stronger than flame, stronger than water, stronger than death itself.”
Magnus, his gaze fixed on Alec’s, laid his hand over the brooch. It was his turn now: Alec drew aside his jacket and rolled up his sleeve, baring his upper arm. He placed a stele in Magnus’s hand and clasped Magnus’s fingers within his own. With their hands entwined, Alec traced the shape of the Wedded Union rune onto his own arm. Emma assumed the second rune, the one over his heart, would be added later, in private, as it usually was.
When they were done, the rune stood out stark and black on Alec’s skin. It would never fade. It would never leave him, a sign of his love for Magnus for all time. Emma felt an ache deep down in her soul, where unspoken hopes and dreams lived. To have what Magnus and Alec had—anyone would be lucky.
Slowly Magnus lowered his hand, still clasped in Alec’s. He gazed at the rune on Alec’s arm in a sort of daze, and Alec looked back at him, as if neither of them could look away.
“The rings now,” said Jia, and Alec seemed to start out of a dream. Jace stepped forward and put one ring into Alec’s hand, and another into Magnus’s, and said something quietly to both of them that made them laugh. Simon was rubbing Isabelle’s back as she sniffled even more loudly, and Clary was smiling into her flowers.
Emma was glad of her Night Vision rune. With it, she could see that the rings were Lightwood family rings, etched with the traditional design of flames on the outside, and with words inscribed on the inside.
“Aku cinta kamu,” Magnus read out, gazing at the interior of the ring, and he smiled at Alec, a brilliant, world-spanning smile. “My love for yours, my heart for yours, my soul for yours, Alexander. Now and for all time.”
Catarina smiled at what must have been familiar words. Magnus and Alec slid the rings onto each other’s fingers, and Jia closed her book.
“Alexander Lightwood-Bane. Magnus Lightwood-Bane. You are now married,” she said. “Let us rejoice.”
The two men folded into each other’s arms, and a great cheer went up: Everyone was shouting, and hugging, and dancing, and the sky overhead burst into golden light as Ragnor, finally over his temper tantrum, began to fill the air with fireworks that exploded in the shapes of wedding runes. In the center of it all, Magnus and Alec held each other tightly, rings gleaming on their fingers like the slivers of a new sun breaking over the horizon.
* * *
The wedding ceremony had broken up into a party, ebullient guests crowding up and down the beach. Ragnor had magicked up a piano from somewhere and Jace was playing, his jacket slung over his shoulder like an old-time blues musician. Clary sat on the piano’s soundboard, tossing flowers into the air. Dancers spun barefoot in the sand, Shadowhunters and Downworlders lost in the music. Magnus and Alec danced close together, their children between them, a happy family tangle.
Diana and Gwyn sat some distance away. Gwyn had put down his cloak for Diana to sit on. She was touched by the gesture: The cloak of the Wild Hunt’s leader was a powerful item, but he didn’t seem to think twice about using it as a beach blanket.
Diana felt ebullient, light with happiness. She touched Gwyn on the wrist and he smiled at her.
“It is good to see so many happy. They deserve it,” he said. “Not just Magnus and Alec, but Mark and Kieran and Cristina as well.”
“And Emma and Julian. I always wondered . . .” Diana trailed off. In hindsight, of course, their love seemed perfectly clear.
“I assumed it,” said Gwyn. “They looked at each other as I look at you.” He cocked his head to the side. “I am glad they are happy now. All true hearts deserve such.”
“And what of the leader of the Hunt? What of his happiness?” said Diana.
He moved closer to her. The wind from the ocean was cool, and he drew her shawl closer about her throat to keep her warm. “Your happiness is my own,” he said. “You seem pensive. Will you tell me your mind?”
She dug her fingers into the cool sand. “I was so worried for so long,” she said. “I kept it all secret—being transgender, using mundane medicine—because I was afraid. But now I’ve told everyone. Everyone knows, and nothing terrible happened.” She smiled a bittersweet smile. “Our whole world has been turned upside down, and my secret now seems like such a small thing.”
Two days after they returned from Idris, Diana had gathered the inhabitants of the Los Angeles Institute and told her story to everyone who mattered to her. She had made it clear that it was no secret from the Consul. She had already talked to Alec, who had readily admitted he knew less than he thought he should about transgender Shadowhunters (or mundanes, for that matter) but was eager to learn.
Some might have called it the presence of God.
Magnus just thought of it as Alexander Gideon Lightwood.
* * *
“Let us begin,” Jia said.
Emma had risen to her tiptoes in excitement. They had all known that there was going to be a surprise wedding on the beach—a surprise to Magnus, at any rate. If Alec had been nervous, he’d done a good job of mostly hiding it. No one else had thought Magnus might say no, but Emma remembered the slight tremble of Alec’s hands earlier, and her heart bubbled with happiness that it had all worked out.
Jace stepped forward to help Alec into a dark blue gear jacket printed with golden runes, while Catarina draped a cobalt-and-gilt silk jacket around Magnus’s shoulders.
They both moved back, and a hush fell over the crowd as Jia spoke.
“Through the centuries,” she said, “there have been few unions between Shadowhunters and Downworlders that have been recognized as such. But a new age has dawned, and with a new age come new traditions. Tonight, as Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood blend their lives and hearts, we stand ready to recognize this union. To witness a true bond between two souls who have cleaved to each other.” She cleared her throat. She looked a bit drawn, as she had in the Council Hall, but much less tired. There was delight and pride in her face as she gazed around the gathered group. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood. Hast thou found the one thy soul loves?”
It was a question asked at every wedding: part of the Shadowhunter ceremony for a thousand years. The crowd hushed, the hush of holiness, of sacred ritual observed and shared. Emma couldn’t help but reach out to hold Julian’s hand; he drew her against his side. There was something about the way Magnus and Alec looked at each other. Emma had thought they would be smiling, but they were both serious: They looked at each other as if the other person were as brilliant as a full moon that could blot out every star.
“I have found him,” Alec said. “And I will not let him go.”
“Magnus Bane,” said Jia, and Emma could not help but wonder if this was only the second time in history that this question had been asked of a warlock. “Hast thou gone among the watchmen, and in the cities of the world? Hast thou found the one thy soul loves?”
“I have found him,” Magnus said, gazing at Alec. “And I will not let him go.”
Jia inclined her head. “Now it is time for the exchanging of runes.”
This was the moment when, in a traditional ceremony, Shadowhunters would Mark each other with wedding runes and speak the words of the vows. But Magnus could not bear runes. They would burn his skin. Puzzled, Emma watched as Jia pressed something that flashed gold into Alec’s hand.
Alec moved closer to Magnus and Emma saw that it was a golden brooch in the shape of the Wedded Union rune. As Alec moved toward Magnus, he spoke the words of the Nephilim vows: “Love flashes out like fire, the brightest kind of flame Many waters cannot quench love, nor can the floods drown it.” He pinned the brooch over Magnus’s heart, his blue eyes never leaving Magnus’s face. “Now place me as a seal over thine heart, as a seal over thine arm: For love is strong as death. And so we are bound: stronger than flame, stronger than water, stronger than death itself.”
Magnus, his gaze fixed on Alec’s, laid his hand over the brooch. It was his turn now: Alec drew aside his jacket and rolled up his sleeve, baring his upper arm. He placed a stele in Magnus’s hand and clasped Magnus’s fingers within his own. With their hands entwined, Alec traced the shape of the Wedded Union rune onto his own arm. Emma assumed the second rune, the one over his heart, would be added later, in private, as it usually was.
When they were done, the rune stood out stark and black on Alec’s skin. It would never fade. It would never leave him, a sign of his love for Magnus for all time. Emma felt an ache deep down in her soul, where unspoken hopes and dreams lived. To have what Magnus and Alec had—anyone would be lucky.
Slowly Magnus lowered his hand, still clasped in Alec’s. He gazed at the rune on Alec’s arm in a sort of daze, and Alec looked back at him, as if neither of them could look away.
“The rings now,” said Jia, and Alec seemed to start out of a dream. Jace stepped forward and put one ring into Alec’s hand, and another into Magnus’s, and said something quietly to both of them that made them laugh. Simon was rubbing Isabelle’s back as she sniffled even more loudly, and Clary was smiling into her flowers.
Emma was glad of her Night Vision rune. With it, she could see that the rings were Lightwood family rings, etched with the traditional design of flames on the outside, and with words inscribed on the inside.
“Aku cinta kamu,” Magnus read out, gazing at the interior of the ring, and he smiled at Alec, a brilliant, world-spanning smile. “My love for yours, my heart for yours, my soul for yours, Alexander. Now and for all time.”
Catarina smiled at what must have been familiar words. Magnus and Alec slid the rings onto each other’s fingers, and Jia closed her book.
“Alexander Lightwood-Bane. Magnus Lightwood-Bane. You are now married,” she said. “Let us rejoice.”
The two men folded into each other’s arms, and a great cheer went up: Everyone was shouting, and hugging, and dancing, and the sky overhead burst into golden light as Ragnor, finally over his temper tantrum, began to fill the air with fireworks that exploded in the shapes of wedding runes. In the center of it all, Magnus and Alec held each other tightly, rings gleaming on their fingers like the slivers of a new sun breaking over the horizon.
* * *
The wedding ceremony had broken up into a party, ebullient guests crowding up and down the beach. Ragnor had magicked up a piano from somewhere and Jace was playing, his jacket slung over his shoulder like an old-time blues musician. Clary sat on the piano’s soundboard, tossing flowers into the air. Dancers spun barefoot in the sand, Shadowhunters and Downworlders lost in the music. Magnus and Alec danced close together, their children between them, a happy family tangle.
Diana and Gwyn sat some distance away. Gwyn had put down his cloak for Diana to sit on. She was touched by the gesture: The cloak of the Wild Hunt’s leader was a powerful item, but he didn’t seem to think twice about using it as a beach blanket.
Diana felt ebullient, light with happiness. She touched Gwyn on the wrist and he smiled at her.
“It is good to see so many happy. They deserve it,” he said. “Not just Magnus and Alec, but Mark and Kieran and Cristina as well.”
“And Emma and Julian. I always wondered . . .” Diana trailed off. In hindsight, of course, their love seemed perfectly clear.
“I assumed it,” said Gwyn. “They looked at each other as I look at you.” He cocked his head to the side. “I am glad they are happy now. All true hearts deserve such.”
“And what of the leader of the Hunt? What of his happiness?” said Diana.
He moved closer to her. The wind from the ocean was cool, and he drew her shawl closer about her throat to keep her warm. “Your happiness is my own,” he said. “You seem pensive. Will you tell me your mind?”
She dug her fingers into the cool sand. “I was so worried for so long,” she said. “I kept it all secret—being transgender, using mundane medicine—because I was afraid. But now I’ve told everyone. Everyone knows, and nothing terrible happened.” She smiled a bittersweet smile. “Our whole world has been turned upside down, and my secret now seems like such a small thing.”
Two days after they returned from Idris, Diana had gathered the inhabitants of the Los Angeles Institute and told her story to everyone who mattered to her. She had made it clear that it was no secret from the Consul. She had already talked to Alec, who had readily admitted he knew less than he thought he should about transgender Shadowhunters (or mundanes, for that matter) but was eager to learn.
