A/N (BlackHeartedTigress): Welcome to Chapter One of Tyranny. It marks for me the first time co-authoring a fic, and I have the honour of writing it with the wonderful mommysladybug. I hope you all enjoy this, and be sure to leave a review if you enjoyed it :)

Polychromatic Distraction

Alexander Lightwood leaned against the door of his home, inhaling deeply and slowly in an attempt to compose himself before he entered. He allowed himself a brief grimace, before smoothing his expression. Then he held his hands out in front of him to ensure they were not trembling. Satisfied they were steady, Alec turned and opened the door.

A reading lamp lit Magnus' face as he gazed down at a worn copy of The Importance of Being Earnest. A faint smile adorned his lips, and it widened as he looked up:

"Hey gorgeous. How was the meeting?"

Alec crossed the room silently in a few eager strides. He'd had little idea of how strongly he'd been longing for Magnus' warm and reassuring presence until he saw him, and now all he wanted to do was surround himself in it. He gently removed the book from Magnus' hands and switched out the light.

The sole illumination for the room now was the dull and artificial glow of a nearby streetlight shining through the stained-glass windows. It shrouded the couple in a maze of shadows- black, grey and an odd myriad of colours- and yet they seemed unbothered by it. Perhaps they were too engrossed in each other; despite the darkness, Alec had little trouble finding his lover's mouth.

The skin of Alec's hand was curiously viridescent as he caressed Magnus' cheek. Despite this small act of tenderness, though, there was an unmistakable intensity and forcefulness to his kisses. He had the urgency of a man pouring alcohol down his throat to wash painful memories from his head.

If either of the lovers' eyes had been open, they might have marvelled at the coruscant blue light touching the glitter in Magnus' spiked black hair, reflecting it in multitudinous directions and making the ceiling dance with stars. Magnus certainly would have appreciated the exultant spilling of scarlet wine across Alec's powerful shoulders. The pool of light rippled as each partner pushed and pulled against the kiss, submission and dominance in equal measure.

Perhaps it was better they were closed though, as it gave Magnus a keener sense of the tension building in Alec's body. It surprised him. Both of them usually relaxed into the comfort of physical intimacy, the melting of two separate entities into one, but tonight they remained divided and distanced. The peculiarity of this caused Magnus to, albeit reluctantly, break away from Alec. Magnus' confused green-gold eyes were incandescent as a yellow light irradiated them and his mouth glistened lustrously even as it down-turned into a frown.

"Alec. What's wrong?" He whispered.

The man in question had his back to the light. His expression was therefore hidden in the folds of the night and utterly unreadable.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Why would you think something is wrong?"

The abruptness of the words made Magnus feel cold inside. After four hundred years of experience, he knew when he was being lied to. After four years by Alec's side, he knew his boyfriend only lied to him when something was seriously wrong.

Feeling frightened of the secrets Alec might be harbouring, Magnus pushed him away. Any atmosphere of desire and heat had dissipated leaving a solemn frigidness behind. His next words sounded almost accusatory:

"You never did tell me how the meeting went."

Alec blew out a frustrated sigh. "It was no different than usual. Just a boring, ordinary Clave meeting."

"I don't believe you." Magnus stood and crossed his arms. "But it shouldn't be too difficult to find out what actually happened. A quick phone-call to Lily or Maia would-"

Alec seemed to crumple; his shoulders slumped dejectedly and his head fell into his hands. "Magnus, please. Please don't do this. I can't- I can't-" He broke off, overcome by whatever emotion was driving his pleas.

Magnus' sense of confusion only grew deeper. "Alec. You can tell me anything. You know that."

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing either of us can do," Alec said hoarsely.

Protectiveness joined the puzzlement. "Did someone hurt you? Did they say something about our relationship?"

Alec was quiet. Magnus took this to be a 'yes'.

"Alec, sweetheart, it's okay." He sat back down beside Alec, wrapping his arms around him as if this physical protection could somehow protect him emotionally. "There are people out there full of hatred and contempt. They think that hurting others will make them feel better about themselves." Alec still didn't speak. "If it's annoying you that much you could talk to a Clave official. I know they don't have the best record for dealing with discrimination, but they can't ignore something like this, especially when it affects one of their own."

The Shadowhunter shivered.

"You shouldn't be afraid to speak out."

Alec laughed humourlessly. "I can deal with a few insults, Magnus. The Angel knows I should be used to them by now."

"Then what is it?"

Alec lapsed into silence once more.

"It is not fair, Alexander, to use me as a distraction. I can try to help you, but I won't be a drug to numb the pain." Alec made a faint sound of protest. "Be honest with yourself and with me, Alec. That is exactly what you're doing, and you know it. Like I said before, I want to help you, but I frankly have no patience for that."

Alec took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. You're right, of course you are. I am trying to avoid the problem, and it's not working. It never works. But I wasn't lying when I said we're helpless to do anything about it." He raised his face. His eyes held unshed tears. "The Clave made a ruling today on a case. The entire thing was completely barbaric, from beginning to end."

"Tell me," Magnus murmured, brushing away the tears.

Alec's gaze fell to his lap, and he began, his voice tired and wretched:

"She was a warlock, the woman who was there to make the appeal. She had the wings of a crow, only much bigger. Like some sort of dark angel. She was called Ella Ruin, and she looked about thirty. She was obviously much older than that, though, because she was presenting a case she submitted in 1953.

I knew it was going to go badly from the very beginning; they brought her in wearing what resembled gloves. It took me a little while to realize they were there to prevent her using magic."

Magnus winced in sympathy. He knew personally how it felt to have his magic stripped from him from the time he'd been taken hostage in Edom. The knowledge that one was reduced to the level of a mundane, at least in regards to power, was terrifying. Especially when one was surrounded be beings that seemed formidable even when one had full use of one's magic.

"Anyway, she told us all the reason she was there: her seven-year-old adopted daughter had been murdered in October 1953 by a Shadowhunter." The sorrow in Alec's voice was tangible. He'd always had a strong sense of empathy. "Even though the case was submitted in December of that year, once her grief had become somewhat bearable, it still hasn't been followed up even to this day. Ruin had spoken to the Clave about this twice before, but of course she hated having to recall the tragedy so clearly each time."

"God," Magnus said softly. "How cruel it must be to see the death of your child over and over."

Alec nodded in agreement, his blue eyes dark with sadness. "She still wanted some form of justice carried out, even though the Shadowhunter was nearly eighty. She needed closure, I guess." He was quiet for a beat, and then his hands closed into fists. "But the Clave weren't too happy about granting it. They started by saying she didn't have enough evidence to prove the crime actually happened. When she presented evidence that was definitely worthy of investigation, if not prosecution, they made up excuses. They told her too much time had elapsed since the crime had happened and that it wasn't worth pursuing; the perpetrator wouldn't live long enough to experience much of a jail sentence."

When she continued to press them, the Clave became more and more hostile. They finished by saying she was selfish and heartless to make an old man suffer punishment for a crime he'd probably regretted for years. They even accused her of having an ulterior motive."

"Bastards."

"She snapped after that. She screamed at them. She wept and said her daughter's name over and over. Even then, they wouldn't change their minds. She tore the gloves from her hands and threw spell after spell at them. She shrieked about taking her own justice, and created a fireball. She was going to throw it at the Shadowhunter who'd committed the crime. They were able to stop her in time, though."

"Unfortunately," Magnus said furiously. "He deserved it. He deserved to feel the pain that she went through."

Alec glanced up. "I don't disagree. The worst part was they now had a basis to convict her of a crime. They gave her five years in jail for attempted bodily harm against a Shadowhunter. I couldn't believe it. I tried to stand; to speak up for her, but as usual their voices became twice as loud as soon as I opened my mouth to speak. They made the victim into the criminal."

Magnus sat back, digesting the full horror of the situation.

"After that they went on to say that since the child had been adopted, it hadn't really been hers. They spoke of how warlocks were sterile for a reason; they couldn't be trusted to look after children, and for them to have one in their care was unnatural and amounted to child abuse. I don't think I ever hated the Clave as much as I did then."

"Welcome to my world," he replied shortly.

"I wanted to grab my bow and shoot every last one of them, especially the ones who laughed. How could they laugh about something so atrocious? Something so heart-breaking?" His voice was full of passion.

"You were right. There's nothing to be done. We have no chance of changing the ruling, not now."

"I wish it was different. I wish the Clave didn't have so much authority."

Magnus sighed. "What are you going to do, Alec? Start a revolution? The Clave have been like this for years, all through the time that I've been alive. Sure, they do a good job of pretending they are making peace with Downworlders. They give us a little bit more every time, just enough to keep us from being troublesome. In the end they'll still think the same about us, though. We're inferior to the prestigious, blessed Nephilim, and they think we ought to know that. Every so often they remind us of our true standing. Today was one of those days."

"It's not right," Alec whispered, but he knew Magnus was speaking truthfully.

"No. It's not. But it isn't going to stop."

"The Fey might stop it. They're angry enough with us, what with having their armies taken away and-"

"The Fey will start a war," Magnus interrupted. "They won't spare anyone, not the bastards and not people like you either. The rest of Downworld will join them too."

"I'd fight with them, if I could," Alec muttered.

"Not going to happen," Magnus said. "They'd never trust a Shadowhunter to fight with them."

"I'll start my own army, then. And still fight against the Clave. Then they'd have to trust me." His voice was gloomy.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "You're beginning to talk nonsense, Alec. Let's go to bed."

They both stood and walked towards their bedroom, and Alec couldn't help one last comment, "Revolution... Huh. That's not actually a bad idea."

Magnus snorted, and pulled his boyfriend into bed. "In your dreams, maybe."