Hello again! This story is a written version of Alec and Lydia's wedding (obviously featuring the Malec kiss). I do not own any characters in the story, they all belong to Cassandra Clare. Hope you enjoy!
Side note: I wrote this at around 12pm so, sorry if my wording sounds a little odd for certain parts!
The scene is picturesque. Two young Shadowhunters stand at an altar, both in stunning white. The woman, Lydia, wears a flowing wedding dress, her long, honey coloured hair tied up elaborately and snaking down her shoulders. She is smiling, her heart tugging with something that just might be love.
The man, Alec, is wearing a tapered suit, the same white as the bride's. He too is smiling, though it's shakier with an anxiety he shouldn't be feeling. His heart is pounding so hard he is surprised that it hasn't already jumped out of his chest. Luckily for him though, it seems to be lodged in his throat, unwilling to let him speak. He wills himself to calm down, to remind himself that this is what's right.
Lydia turns so her back is to Alec, taking the golden cuff bracelet from Isabelle and turning back to face her fiance. He holds out his wrist, pushing back the stiff fabrics of his suit so she can work the cuff on. Her hands are soft and warm and they fit perfectly into Alec's, but all he can think about is that the nails are painted in a pale shell pink and not in a rich purple or midnight blue or fiery red that sparkles in such a way Alec starts to question whether they are enchanted.
When the cuff has been effectively wound around his wrist, he turns, just as she did, this time collecting a large, gold chained pendant in the shape of a tear drop. He winds the jewellery around her neck, conscious how much his hands are shaking. It's almost over. It's almost over.
Brother Jeremiah's voice rings out in the silence between them, and they take each other's hand, now facing the front of the alter.
"It is time for Alec Lightwood and Lydia Branwell to mark each other with the Wedded Union rune. A rune on the hand, a rune on the heart. A union is born."
They release each other, Lydia immediately moving to take the ribboned stele next to her, and taps it twice on the glowing stone in front of them. When he takes it away, frosty blue fire follows it, rushing like smoke from the tip. Almost over, it's almost over. After a second, Alec holds out his palm to Lydia and she breathes deeply, taking his hand in her own.
The stele hovers over his hand for a moment, and she's smiling because she's sure she loves him, and he's holding back a grimace because he's sure he doesn't but it's the right thing to do, emotions just get in the way.
That's when the door slams open, a figure dressed in a blue button down and a black suit jacket and not nearly enough sequins walking in. His hair is flicked back ridiculously, and upon looking, Alec realises also has streaks of glittery red in. He stands there, at the base of the maroon rug leading up to the altar, and locks his golden green cat eyes with Alec's blue ones.
Magnus. The word repeats in Alec's head like a mantra.
They stare at each other, the world around them fizzing out. He's vaguely aware of his mother saying something, of Izzy and Jace whispering hurriedly to each other, but he can't hear them and he's not really sure what his body is doing.
He blinks, and the world snaps into an alarmingly bright alteration of the real one. His eyes refuse to leave Magnus's, his head swimming. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Maryse stand, furious, and walking over to the warlock.
"Magnus, leave this wedding now." She all but hisses at him but her words are cut off by Magnus's hand, waving to silence her.
"Maryse, this is between me and your son." He barely glances at her, quickly bringing his eyes back up to Alec's. "I'll leave if he asks me to."
Lydia has stepped away from Alec, but his hand remains outstretched, frozen in place. Something passes between the Shadowhunter and the warlock, and for a horrible second Magnus thinks Alec is going to tell him to go, that he shouldn't be here. But Alec doesn't speak, just stares at the glittery man in front of him and wonders why he isn't already running into his arms, wonders why he is still standing there when he could be kissing him because, God, he really wants to, but his body refuses to cooperate.
"You gonna be okay, buddy?" The voice comes from close behind Alec, and he notes how concerned Jace sounds. Alec doesn't answer. He tries to choke down some oxygen to his starved lungs, but his chest is suddenly too tight and his throat feels constricted.
"Alec?" This time the voice is Lydia's, but instead of sounding concerned, it sounds like the voice you would use to talk to a young child, far too high and cheerful.
This gets Alec's attention, and she laughs breezily, smiling, when he tears his eyes away from Magnus's to meet hers. "Hey."
He can't return the smile, not with the weight of what he's about to say lying heavily on his chest. He tries again to breathe normally, but has the same luck he did the time previous.
"I..." His breathing is too heavy to get the sentence out, so instead he settles for a slightly gasping, "I can't breathe."
Lydia shakes her head, still smiling and thinking Alec's state is simply anxiety from the wedding. "I know. It's okay."
It's Alec's turn to shake his head. "I can't do this,"
In that instant, her smile is gone.
"I thought that we were doing the right thing, but..." He trails off to suck in a breath. "This isn't it."
"You don't have to explain." Lydia cuts him off briskly.
"Lydia, I'm sorry."
"Hey..." Her eyes convey a note of sincerity Alec has never quite seen from her before. "You deserve to be happy. Okay?" Her hand is resting on his neck, thumb brushing slow lines on his cheek, and she laughs softly before continuing, "I'll be fine."
Her hand moves down to his shoulder then falls back to her side, allowing Alec to turn fully and face Magnus.
His eyes flicker around the room before landing back on the warlock's. Magnus finds himself getting frustrated with the Shadowhunter, frustrated with himself that he hasn't already rushed to the altar and tangled his hands in the younger boy's hair, pulling him close.
That's when Alec steps off the altar-Magnus's heart coming to a standstill-and takes a breath, walking purposefully towards the warlock.
Maryse rushes past Magnus, demanding in a warning tone, "Alec, what are you doing?" But is brushed aside easily by Alec's low voice.
"Enough."
Magnus prays with all he has that Alexander doesn't just walk straight past him and out the door, and it seems that for once in his life, luck is on his side.
Alec grabs Magnus's lapels and crashes their lips together, sparks igniting Magnus's fingertips as his brain short circuits.
Alec's lips are impatient and hungry, his fingers curling around Magnus's jacket tightly, and at the same time, he is hesitant and pulls away quickly. Magnus's lips chase his before he can leave his arms though, and captures Alec's lips again, this time in a softer motion. They breathe each other in, marvelling in the feel of one another.
When Alec tries to pull away a second time, Magnus let's him, smiling at the Shadowhunter's adorably dishevelled appearance.
"You never cease to amaze me, Alec."
"Yeah," Alec breaths, "What did I just do?" A note of panic colours his words and Magnus immediately wants to smooth his worry into the kind of exploding-calm they shared just moments before. He desperately wants to protect his Shadowhunter from anyone who would raise that kind of panic in him. He catches himself when he starts to consider grabbing Alec's wrists and stealing him away to his apartment, away from the wedding and furious Nephilim.
Alec takes a slow breath and looks over at Maryse and Robert. Both are the exact picture of anger and disappointment, and Alec's chest immediately starts to constrict again. Maryse stalks off, acting as though she is disgusted to even look at her son, and Robert soon follows.
As soon as they leave, Izzy wastes no time in telling Alec how proud of him she is, and Alec allows himself to calm down a little. They are quickly joined by Simon who starts babbling about some Mundie film and how similar the entire thing was to it.
The scene is picturesque. A Shadowhunter in stunning white and a warlock in bursting colour stand, fingers laced together, at the base of an alter. The anxiety in the Shadowhunter's face has faded completely, being replaced only with happiness. The warlock stands close to his Shadowhunter, not entirely believing what just happened.
One takes the others face in their hands and connects their lips for the third time that night, and the world turns to smoke.
Be sure to let me know if you want to see more written scenes, Shadowhunter, or otherwise, and tell me what you thought of this one!
-El