Well. Yeah. I have no explanation hahaha... I am ashamed of myself, though. But here it is! Another chapter! It is actually possible! Thank you so much for the favs/follows and all the reviews! They mean a lot to me and I'm so glad you like this!

Shout-out to the most amazing JelloDVDs, who is not only the most inspiring person ever but who also looked this through for me and made sure it's the best it can be! Thank you so much!

Disclaimer: I don't own these wonderful characters, sadly. Instead, they belong to Cassandra Clare. Which is probably for the best.

"So, what is he like?"

Alec tensed up just before he loosed the arrow. The string vibrated slightly as the projectile cut through the air, but the sudden tension in his muscles had affected his aim; the arrow dug into the target, but slightly next to the red dot that indicated the middle. Alec gritted his teeth; his aim was never off. But then again, his sister inquiring after someone she wasn't supposed to know about was not exactly a daily occurrence.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"I think you know perfectly well who I'm talking about," Isabelle said softly, walking towards him and resting her hand on the engraved wood of his bow. Her fingers curled around the weapon and Alec let her take it, his blue eyes staring at the sandy floor of the archery range in order to avoid her piercing dark brown gaze.

Alec felt sick all of a sudden. Who had told her? Had Jace jokingly mentioned to her that he had been preoccupied the last two times they went to the brothel? Even though Alec wasn't particularly happy with his sister knowing about their regular visits to such a place, Jace never hesitated to boast about the activities he indulged in with the women there. It must have been Jace off-handedly making a retort about his absence that had set her on this trail, he decided.

It definitely wasn't his own incapability to hide something from her at fault.

"Alec?" Her hand brushed his shoulder and brought him back to reality. His breathing was a bit irregular and he felt light-headed. He had never discussed his preference with her, never confided in her about his deficiency. And yet she had been so certain when she had made her inquiry, the pronoun she used standing out like a red flag.

"Yeah?"

"You know you can tell me anything, don't you? I love you, big brother. Nothing you do will ever change that."

"How did you know?"

"You are my brother. I notice these things. I can tell when you're indifferent and when you are interested, and I can especially tell when you seem happier than usual. That smile you have been donning lately really does enhance your features. You should wear it more often."

Magnus had been on Alec's mind more and more often lately; he had almost been like a safe haven Alec's mind could wander off to when he was standing guard or protecting Jace or, even though he was not very keen on admitting this, when he was bathing. And he did not necessarily intend for Magnus to be his dirty little secret. Although it wasn't like there was anything special going on between the two of them, and there would never be a chance for anything of that nature to even blossom. Magnus was just doing his job, and Alec was hopelessly attracted to him.

"His name is Magnus," Alec mumbled cautiously, walking away quickly in order to fetch his arrow. Isabelle's face lit up behind his back; she was surprised yet very pleased that her brother decided to confide in her.

"That sounds exotic," she said. When he got back, his arrow now safely tucked in the quiver slung over his shoulder, she hooked her arm through his and handed him back his longbow. Alec tightened his grip on the wood until his knuckles turned white. Isabelle tugged him toward the extensive gardens, which were well-kept and filled with colourful, sweet-smelling flowers and many herbs with medical purposes. He let her guide him. "What is he like?"

"Magnus? He is quite magical."

"Is he now?" Isabelle asked, a smirk on her face. Alec was relieved when she switched the subject to someone else who she considered to be quite magical as well. She didn't want to pressure him into telling her more than he was comfortable with. Putting Alec under pressure only ever caused him to put up his guard and she didn't want to push her luck; changing the subject to herself was the safest option.

As they strolled through the gardens, Alec could feel gazes burning into them from all sides. It wasn't often that both Lightwood siblings showed up in public together like this; Alec was often too preoccupied with his job and Isabelle spent most of her time in the castle, since their parents preferred to keep her safely confined behind the walls. Isabelle liked to defy that unnecessarily strict rule, however.

Isabelle Lightwood was without a doubt the most beautiful woman of the court, and she was well aware of that. Her black hair was long and cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves, and her intelligent dark brown eyes were rimmed by long, seducing eyelashes. Her lips were painted a bright red that matched the rich colour of her dress. The dress itself had a very tight bodice that was almost scandalously low-cut and was trimmed with lace. The skirts were long and flowed around her body beautifully.

It was therefore not much of a surprise that many young lords strolling through the garden watched them leave with lust-filled eyes. She was unclaimed and of high nobility, a perfect match with a perfect body.

Alec wanted to punch them all.

Their peaceful slow-paced walk around the gardens didn't last too long, however. The interruption came in the form of a very flustered-looking guard.

"Alexander Lightwood, correct?" he asked, pulling on the sorry excuse of a beard that coated his jawline; it was more like a thin layer of fuzz than anything else. When Alec confirmed his assumption the man let out a shaky breath. "The king is looking for you. He requests your presence immediately!"

Alec resisted the urge to grimace at this summons. Usually Jace's sense of urgency didn't extend much further than needing a cure for his boredom or wanting to visit his favourite brothel, and Alec wasn't happy that the time he was spending with his sister would be cut short because of Jace's arrogance and selfishness. But it was not like he could do anything against it; Jace was the monarch and Alec was little more than an ant in comparison. This was something Jace did like to remind him of, if only good-naturedly. It was exactly what they said; heavy is the head that bears the crown.

"I will see to it this instant," Alec promised stiffly. He waited until the guard had disappeared out of his sight before drawing Isabelle closer and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"What is that for?" Isabelle laughed, caught unaware by this sudden display of affection.

"Nothing," Alec said, even though it was, in fact, for everything.

He left Isabelle behind in the gardens; she had already found another man to walk with her even before Alec had the chance to turn away.

He considered taking a longer route just to annoy Jace but decided against it, since the monarch was already annoying enough even if he did not have a valid reason. Alec slung his bow over his shoulder and headed inside the castle, taking the marble steps of the main staircase two at a time.

Jace's chambers were located in the western wing of the second floor, and they dominated most of the available space. There were a few chambers that remained unused; they were destined for the future queen.

The ceilings were high and the hallway was wide, its walls decorated with paintings of various generations of monarchs from House Herondale. They all looked similar, families with kings and children with golden hair and golden eyes, making Jace fit in seamlessly with the majority of them. There were only a few that stood out, mostly children that were born from exotic queens, where the characteristic Herondale gold had been overruled by browns or blacks.

He finally arrived at a double door that had a majestic eagle engraved in the dark wood, and he pushed it open without bothering to knock.

To his surprise, however, the sight that greeted him once the doors gave way was nothing like he was used to seeing. Instead of Jace lying on his bed playing with knifes, the king was actually pacing the length of his room whilst looking absolutely infuriated.

"What is going on?" Alec asked cautiously while he closed the doors behind him.

"Everything!" Jace practically fumed. "Way too much, but no one bothers to tell me anything! Instead they are completely content playing their game of thrones without bothering to include the actual monarch!"

"What did Maryse keep from you?"

"Not just Maryse – Raphael too, and even Hodge. They're acting like I'm some kind of irresponsible child!" Alec had to admit that they might have a point; Jace was not the most responsible monarch, so to speak. "And instead of consulting me they decide to make the decisions for me. Did you know there was some kind of fucking plague going on in the city right now? Because I sure as hell didn't! Instead they trust me with resolving small disputes between stupid peasants, because apparently who decided to eat whose cattle is a lot more important than half my people dying out there! And apparently there's an envoy of the Clave coming, and there's also suspicious activity along the King's Road, but do I know anything about that? No!"

"I am sure they have their reasons for keeping quiet."

Jace ran his hand through his hair, his golden eyes narrowing as he looked at Alec. He was obviously not very pleased by Alec's lack of support. "Of course you are defending them. Is there anything important you have been keeping from me too?"

Alec felt his blood run cold, even though the rational part of his brain told him that Jace wasn't talking about that. Couldn't be talking about that. That would be too low a blow, even for him. "Jace-"

"That's it. I'm going into the city. Call upon the King's Guard and get the horses ready, Alec."

"I do not approve of this-" Alec started, but he was quickly interrupted.

"I know, and I honestly do not care. My people are dying out there!"

Alec wanted to say that it hardly mattered if Jace went anywhere since there wasn't anything Jace would be able to do against a plague anyway. But he didn't bother to voice his disapproval; Jace would not listen to him anyway. He gave a curt nod and then turned around, exiting the room and hurrying down the large corridor, Jace's ancestors judging him silently from their perches on the walls.

–

The city smelt like smoke and waste. The contents of chamber-pots and the by-products of chemical processes had been dumped onto the street, forming a layer of stinky slime on top of the worn cobblestones. The heat of the summer never failed to bring out the worst side of Idris, making the living conditions almost unbearable.

"King of the city of shit," Jace complained, taking his horse back a bit so he could address Alec directly. Alec was riding at Jace's right side, Arrow's head near the golden stallion's flank, with one hand on the pommel of his sword and his blue eyes constantly scanning the streets. Alec didn't respond to Jace's remark.

The ride was, if nothing else, at least cheering Jace up. He wasn't made to sit on a golden throne and play judge. He was a lot more effective and happy when he could go out and explore for himself. Even if that did mean trudging through streets covered in shit. The odour was so strong it nearly made them gag.

Citizens were watching from between cracks in the shutters of their windows, pieces of perfumed cloth pressed against their mouths in an attempt to battle the stench. Others were standing on the sides of the streets, sunk to their ankles in the layer of grime, their eyes emotionless and cold as they watched their king pass. There were children too, holding onto their mothers' skirts, failing to understand what was going on.

And then there were the flies. They were everywhere, buzzing loudly as they feasted on the waste, the noise almost deafening.

It hadn't rained in over a moon cycle, and it was showing.

Jace made quite the sight in his flashy armour made from enamelled gold steel on his large stallion, surrounded by his vicious-looking King's Guard. All of them had donned their black armour, and it gleamed dully under the caress of the afternoon sun. They also wore golden capes made of fine silk that cascaded down their shoulders like golden waterfalls and pooled onto the backs of their horses. Alec was the one who stood out the most, and not just because of his close positioning to the king himself. His helmet was shaped like a wolf's head, its particular shape indicating that he was a Lightwood, the protector that was most feared of all.

Alec himself wasn't too happy about the additional unnecessary finery, but his parents had insisted. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. A reputation his parents had tarnished in the first place, all those years ago.

The closer they got to the cathedral, which was their final destination, the more deserted the streets became. The cathedral loomed over the city like the Angel itself, its high marble towers spiralling upward into the air, reaching for the heavens with greedy, pointy fingers. The cathedral was rumoured to have been erected out of thin air by the Angel, back when he first saved Idris, and the tale was not hard to believe. It was almost ethereal.

The priests and the City Guard had decided to move the makeshift infirmary to the large square in front of the large staircase that led to the enormous front doors of the cathedral, and this is where the lingering smell of smoke originated from; there was a fire burning fiercely near the fountain, and they dragged the bodies of the deceased there to burn before the sickness could spread even further and cause the entire city to perish.

Amongst the bodies of the deadly sick and the barely alive, tall figures in ebony robes sauntered, their hoods pulled forward to hide their faces. The skin on their bare hands and feet was papery thin and the colour of old parchment.

Jace jumped off his horse to approach one of them on foot, and Alec quickly followed.

"Where is brother Zachariah?" he asked one of them, and for a moment it seemed like the question didn't even register in the hooded man's mind. The Silent Brothers usually couldn't speak. Their beliefs caused them to give up the function of one of man's most primary senses, namely sight, and also on the art of speech. Their eyes and mouth were stitched shut with thick black stitches made from horsehair. Their ears were burnt off and offered to the Angel in exchange for wisdom.

"Your Grace," they heard behind them, the voice rough and scratchy. They turned around to face the only exception to the norm, Brother Zachariah. He was a Silent Brother who wasn't silent, and who hadn't stitched his mouth nor his eyes shut, nor had he given up all of his hair and burnt off his ears. There were tattoos on his face, though, swirly lines made with talented hands. The lines reminded Alec of the rune that had been carved into his own hand when he first started his service, and also of the runes that were traditionally engraved into their armour. They were said to contain the power of the Angel, giving them an advantage in battle, but no one really knew if they actually worked.

Maybe they had once, but had ended up losing their divine powers over time and were now nothing more than intricate decorations.

"I want to know what is going on," Jace demanded, his resolve strong.

"As you wish, Your Grace," Brother Zachariah said calmly. His words were like a low whisper that carried on the wind.

It wasn't often that the Silent Brothers left their beloved City of Bones. Only under the most crucial of circumstances could they be provoked to appear in the streets of Alicante, and even then their service was still limited to healing. They were brilliant fighters, but were not inclined to pick up a sword.

Brother Zachariah walked slowly as he led the two of them through the rows of sick people. Alec noted that the remainder of the King's Guard had fanned out and was watching the premises, which he was glad for. Although he doubted anyone would be so foolish as to attack an infirmary, especially one that was under the direct supervision of the brothers, one could never be too cautious.

"It is most curious," Brother Zachariah breathed. "We have found that the illness solidifies their blood. It almost seems to be initiated by the inhalation of poison, but that does not explain its being contagious. A very curious case indeed."

It didn't take too long for Jace's walk around the sick to be done. Alec kept his gaze fixed on the situation around them, scanning the rooftops of the tall buildings that faced the square for potential threats. The people looked horrible, their skin black and dying and dark pus leaking out of their noses and eyes. They suffered in silence, although their faces were contorted with pain. Their eyes were bleeding and their hands were gnarled. The smell they emitted alone was enough to make Alec want to turn around and flee the place. There was something unnatural about it, something he couldn't quite place.

After the emotionless Brother explained the situation, he decided he would at least try to support the infirmary but with both monetary aid and provisions rather than his physical presence.

"Are you happy now?" Alec asked as they mounted their horses again. He was glad to leave the stench and stuffiness of the place behind. Brother Zachariah had ascertained them that the illness that was spreading through the city like wildfire would be completely harmless to the monarch for some reason he didn't elaborate on, which was something he was glad of. The last thing they needed was a monarch ridden with the plague because of his own stupidity and stubbornness.

"Very much so," Jace responded, digging his heels into the ribs of his stallion. The horse nearly jumped forward, eager to finally escape the stench of rot and disease. "I am sure the Brothers were glad to see me too. You know they are picky about granting their aid and they do wish to be acknowledged for their effort."

"They do not seek recognition," Alec said dryly. "That is a treat that solely belongs to you."

"Don't act like I don't have a reason to be arrogant, Alec. If you looked like me you would be too," Jace joked.

"I doubt it. Your level of narcissism is hard to match," Alec grumbled, not appreciating the jest.

The King's Guard regrouped around them, their horses just as skittish as Jace's. There was something peculiar about the infirmary, almost like there was a looming sense of dread. One that wasn't provoked by the unpleasant presence of the Silent Brothers. Instead, it was almost palpable, like a black curtain that covered the entire site and smothered it.

Alec had read about such a sensation before in tales written on ancient papyrus rolls, and all the way back then it was considered to be in close relation to dark magic. But magic didn't exist; that was what they had always been told. So that could impossibly be the cause… or could it be?

They were about halfway back to the castle when something stirred in an alleyway, shaking Alec out of his reverie. Jace was ranting on about some girl he'd spotted at court, which Alec hadn't been particularly interested in, and he complained loudly when Alec slowed Arrow down.

"Alec, seriously. We have been over this before. You are at least supposed to pretend to be interested in what I'm saying!"

"Jace, shut up," Alec replied, steering Arrow out of the formation and dismounting. Arrow looked at him with her big, friendly eyes and waited patiently as Alec turned away. He quickly ducked into the alleyway. He came out not much later, holding a scrawny young man by the back of his tunic.

"Shit. All right. I know this looks bad but I promise you I really wasn't trying to do anything. I swear. On my left hand. Or on my right, really it pretends on your preference I'm not picky at all, I promise you! Just don't kill me please," the man rambled on, and Alec decided he had a very severe dislike for this man already.

Jace seemed amused, and the rest of the guard was just uneasy, quickly scanning their surroundings and probably cursing themselves for not noticing anyone lurking in the shadows. They had stopped their horses and were now standing in the middle of the street, attracting quite a bit of attention from the citizens around them.

"It did not look like you were doing nothing back there," Jace said, looking down at the brown-haired man like he was nothing more than filth. And, to be quite frank, that was exactly what the man was. He looked terrible; his mousy brown hair was caked with sweat, mud and blood, and his face was a mask of pure terror. His clothing was old, torn and gross, and he smelt horrible. His brown eyes were wide with fear and huge in his thin face.

"I told you, I know it looks bad but it really isn't. I just wanted to cross the street but didn't really know if I could since well you know you guys are pretty impo-"

"Please shut up," Alec said, shaking the man by jerking harshly on the back of his tunic.

"Shutting up. Yes. All right. I can do that."

"Simon!" A woman's voice sounded, and Alec inwardly sighed. So the guy was not alone. Brilliant.

A scrawny girl darted out of the alleyway on the opposite side of the street, and this time the rest of the King's Guard did respond properly. She stopped short before the point of a spear, that was strategically placed in her path, could pierce her chest. She looked completely infuriated.

She was a small woman with no real curves to speak of. The combination of the clothing she wore, which was in an identically bad condition as her companion's, she might as well have been a man if not for her long, fiery red hair and the more feminine structure of her face. Her freckled cheeks were stained red with anger.

"Let him go!"

"Don't worry about it, Clary," her friend said weakly. "We're having a great time here. I'm being treated well. Just run now you still can or I might actually piss my pants."

"Don't bother, gentlemen," Jace said, and Alec repressed the urge to roll his eyes when he detected that Jace had cranked up his charm. The girl looked like an underfed weasel. Really, Jace? "I don't think there's anything she can do to us anyway." He had dismounted and was now walking over to the Clary girl, which was a big mistake.

As soon as the guards, hesitantly and disapprovingly, lowered their spears, Clary charged forward and nearly smacked against Jace's chest, swinging her fists in a manner that looked almost comical if it hadn't been for the fierce anger that distorted her face. She was powered on by her fury and either didn't know who Jace was or simply couldn't think straight, because if she'd known the possible consequences of that action she would probably have reconsidered her options.

"He didn't do anything wrong!" the red-haired girl cried.

"He did, actually," Jace said easily, holding her back with one strong arm. "He should know better than to sneak up on an armed guard escorting the king, shouldn't he?"

"The king?" the girl asked, clearly confused. Jace just stared blankly at her for a second before recovering, apparently considering this an interesting turn of events.

"Yes, the king," Jace replied then added smoothly, "So please indulge me, why do you think my guard should release him?" Jace was still blocking the girl's path even though she looked about ready to claw his eyes out.

"I already told you," she said firmly, her voice getting increasingly high-pitched with every word she spoke. Alec winced at the unpleasant sound. "He didn't do anything wrong now let him go!"

"What is your name, fair lady?" Jace asked instead, clearly not interested in following her terribly misplaced orders.

The girl had at least enough common sense to answer Jace's question, and the distraction did seem to calm her down somewhat. Perhaps she thought she could bargain their way out of this? In the meantime, her friend was shivering in Alec's hold, his face a ghostly pale and his brown eyes nearly bulging. He wasn't much of a fighter, that was for sure. Which was quite strange; if he truly was a scrawny cutpurse like his looks made him out to be, he should at least have had some more courage. The way he reacted belonged more to a soft-handed boy of high nobility who had never seen someone get hurt in his life, let alone fought anyone.

Alec resisted the urge to shake him up a little for good measure. He did tighten his hold a bit though, which caused the man to squeak out in terror.

"Clarissa from House Fray. And that is Simon from House Lewis. We are from the north."

"That does explain your abysmal manners," Jace joked, but Clary looked bemused at his effort. "Now, the truth is, I don't think I am going to let you go. I think you are too interesting. I also think it is peculiar that two persons from the north are roaming my streets. Alec, take care of the rat. We're bringing them back to the castle." Jace winked at him, obviously enjoying this portrayal of absolute power he had going on.

Clary looked like someone had just hit her across the face, hard. "I am not coming with you. And he isn't either. Tell your dog to let him go."

"That was not a question," one of the guards said, his stern voice as loud as thunder. "The king gave you a direct order. Failing to obey will lead to immediate execution."

"Now, my good sir, don't you think that punishment is a tad severe?" Jace said with a smile on his face that completely contradicted his claim. "Just look at that beautiful, innocent face. Certainly you would not want to chop that off just because she was disobedient?"

Clary seemed to have calculated her odds and considered her options, and decided that giving into Jace was probably going to be for the best. "Fine. But Simon is coming too."

"That is true. I did include the mouse in my offer, didn't I, Alec?" Jace asked. Alec snorted, pushing Simon toward Arrow.

"Wait. Who are you?" Clary suddenly asked. Jace grabbed her hand, his metal-coated thumb rubbing the back of her hand. It was clear that she wanted to pull her hand away but didn't dare try. Alec was glad that revolutionary spirit of her seemed to have died down somewhat. He didn't feel like having to chase her all the way back to the castle in case she managed to escape. Although her friend did seem a lot less capable than her and it was clear that she was not going to leave him behind.

She had blown her perfectly safe cover for his sake, after all.

"That? That is Alexander Lightwood, head of the King's Guard and my dearest friend. I, on the other hand, am the amazing Jace Herondale, current monarch of Idris in all of its splendid glory." Jace seemed to have forgotten that they had just literally left an infirmary where half of his glorious capital city was quietly wasting away.

Clary looked unimpressed but did allow him to help her onto his horse. Jace expertly mounted his stallion after her, and Alec turned away when Jace started trying to persuade her to hold onto his waist.

"Yeah, I don't think I can do that," Simon replied, his mouth agape.

Alec rolled his eyes and grabbed the man by the back of his tunic and the waistband of his trousers, lifting him off the ground and slinging him over Arrow's back, behind the saddle. The horse swept her tail and turned her head to look at the spectacle, but otherwise didn't budge. After that he mounted his mare himself, patting her gently on the neck.

"Couldn't save anything of that gentleness for me, huh?" Simon said sourly as he watched how tenderly Alec treated Arrow. "Doesn't matter. I quite like being handled like a sack of potatoes." He slowly tried to sit astride Arrow's back instead of hanging over it. He nearly slid down one side of her and quickly grabbed onto Alec's cloak, much to the guard's absolute disgust.

"Are you always this infuriating?" he snapped, urging Arrow back into a walk. Simon screamed out behind him and grabbed onto his shoulder. He had managed to throw his leg over Arrow's back but it hadn't given him enough support to stop himself sliding from side to side with the horse's swaying gait.

Alec glared at Simon over his shoulder when his hands clamped down on him even more feverishly.

"Okay. I get it. No talking. No touching. Just sitting here and try not to fall. Although I suppose you don't really care whether I fall or not. You don't really look like the sensitive guy anyway, no offence. I do have to say I don't have that much experience riding horses – just ask Clary. I am terrible at riding them and-"

"Shut up," Alec said through gritted teeth.

"Right," Simon responded quickly. "No talking. Got it." He had let go of Alec's shoulder but was now clinging to his expensive golden cloak with all of his might. Alec rolled his eyes again and followed Jace's example as he clicked his tongue and Arrow lapsed into a steady canter.

Simon cried out behind him and quickly wrapped his arms around Alec's torso, his filthy nails scratching over the black steel. He buried his face into Alec's cloak until his cheek lay flat against the plate on Alec's back, his breathing irregular and his mouth once again racing.

"I am sorry for the touching. I just really don't like horses. I think I might throw up."

The joy.

Alec would reprimand Jace for this the moment they were alone. What was he even thinking? Dragging some unwilling, filthy, feisty red-haired street rat into the castle together with her even filthier, annoying and very talkative friend? Alec sighed. He knew Hodge and his mother would both hold him responsible for this absurdity, even if it was completely Jace's idea and Alec was not looking forward to their accusations.

Let me know what you think of it! Reviews are always very welcome! :D