Well... I tried to update on time... Didn't quite manage it... BUT, I would like you to know that the next chapter has already been written, and it will go up as soon as my beta has edited it. So that's some consolation for this month of nothingness, right? Oh, who am I even kidding...

Thank you guys so much for your reviews, favs & follows. I'm so glad you guys are still around (and yes, Tay, I did update, and yes, this chapter will have Magnus!)! Shout-out to my awesome beta JelloDVDs, who is now going to be my official beta for this monstrosity. Yaay~

Disclaimer: Yeah. I kind of do not own. Sad face.


"Ho there, soldier." Alec's head whipped to the side quickly. He was not surprised to see his sister standing in a shallow alcove at the bottom of the stairs. She was leaning against a dusty statue of a winged woman cradling a goblet of some kind, but she straightened when she saw her brother, a sweet smile curving her lips upward.

Isabelle must have been there for a while, waiting for Alec's tell-tale rushing down the stairs, and she immediately latched onto his arm once he had slowed down. She always did that; holding onto his arm, her fingertips nearly digging into his skin. It was her method of keeping him there, like one would rein in a horse, and to make sure he would not rush away with his long-legged stride.

She made him slow down his pace, too, until they were sauntering. Alec hated sauntering.

"What is it, Izzy?" Alec asked. He loved his sister but this disruption was very inconvenient. He didn't particularly appreciate it when his daily tasks were interrupted.

"Have you seen Maryse yet?" Isabelle asked lightly, but the contempt she felt toward their mother was not lost on Alec. He knew their relationship was strained; he knew how much Isabelle detested the disciplinary role their mother had always taken in their lives. Maryse was a strong woman, but she was not the most loving mother, especially not to her daughter, who she considered to be the epitome of a disappointment. She was nicer to Alec since he always did what she asked which was a quality an authoritative woman like Maryse could appreciate.

She preferred Jace over either of her own children, though, and all that time ago, she had cherished her youngest child, Max, the most. Alec didn't like dwelling on his younger brother.

"No," Alec replied curtly, his shoulders sagging a little. "Nor Hodge. Fortunately. I have not yet figured out what I am supposed to tell them."

"I guess being truthful is unwise here, yes," Isabelle laughed, guiding them up a set of stairs that would lead them in the direction of Isabelle's chambers. It wouldn't surprise Alec if that was indeed their final destination. Isabelle was able to see the humour in this situation, but Alec didn't understand how this could be considered even the slightest bit positive.

Jace was completely besotted with this filthy thing they had plucked off the streets, and by acting so inconsiderately as to invite them into the royal household he had made Alec responsible for whatever destruction they would cause. Alec knew that them screwing something up was just a matter of when and how. They couldn't be trusted; for all they knew they could be two of Raphael's shady Children, or perhaps even assassins from the north.

Alec wiped his sweaty palms on his soft leather breeches, and Isabelle's facial expression morphed into one of concern.

"Alec, it will be fine," she said softly, placing her hand on her brother's arm. "I took care of Clary; she almost looks like nobility now. She should fit in without a problem. As for Simon, well, he can always work in the stables if we can't get him to look more sophisticated."

Alec was very sceptical of the possibility of making Clary blend in with the rest of the court. A girl that scrawny with such fiery hair and such a bad temper would not go unnoticed, no matter how drastic a change Isabelle had implemented.

"I have to tell Maryse and Hodge," Alec replied.

"You do not," Isabelle said firmly. "We can just wait it out for a while."

"If they find out on their own, it will just be worse."

"Potentially," Isabelle replied. "But by then we will all be to blame. They will not be able to take it out on you alone." Though it was a nice gesture her logic was flawed. Alec was Jace's personal guard. It was his duty to keep Jace safe, healthy and alive, and it was not his job to reel in potential murderers and allow them to be in Jace's personal sphere.

As they continued to walk, Isabelle lapsed into a one-sided conversation about how Meliorn had sent her a fire message saying that he would be returning to court soon, and that while the matters he came to address were pressing, he would have plenty of time to court his fair lady. Isabelle looked very pleased with this information, so Alec just made non-committal sounds whenever it seemed appropriate. He did not particularly like the Seelie knight, but Meliorn was a problem he would deal with when the knight arrived at court.

Isabelle led him to her private quarters, which were large and superfluously furnished, with rich tapestries and bright colours. She had a lot of purple fabrics, which was not because she particularly enjoyed the colour but because it was extremely difficult and expensive to dye. His dear sister could be a tad superficial at times.

With his free hand, Alec turned the handle and opened the door to her chambers. He honestly shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when he saw what or rather who she had been hiding in there. A quick scan of the room told Alec there were three persons.

Simon was startled when they entered, his big brown eyes wide as he turned around. He only seemed to curl into himself more when he noticed Alec. Alec was glad the boy was at least intimidated by him; that way he would undoubtedly be less likely to do anything even remotely destructive to Jace.

Clary just raised her chin and looked at the two siblings with something akin to a challenge in her green eyes. Her hair had been washed and the unruly curls had been tamed; the colour was bright and fiery and extremely noticeable. She was wearing a dress that was probably one of Isabelle's older ones, considering the low-cut bodice and the rich silk it was made out of. The fabric was a forest green that suited Clary well, but the dress itself didn't fit her. She was flatter than Isabelle with a much smaller less-curvy figure.

Jace was there too, throwing a knife and then catching it, before repeating the motion. He flashed Alec a lazy, content smile before catching the knife again and then throwing it in his direction. Alec easily plucked the dagger out of the air before it could dig itself into the wall behind him, and he flipped it over in his hand before walking over to Jace and presenting it to him hilt-first.

Alec's disapproval was clearly visible on his face. It was in the tension in his jaws as he gritted his teeth and the curve of his mouth, as well as in his bright blue eyes. Jace wasn't at all affected by his bemusement.

"Fetch, Alec," Jace joked, accepting the dagger and placing it on the table next to the chair he was draped over.

Isabelle walked up from behind them and perched herself on the armrest of the chair Simon was sitting on, and Alec repressed the urge to roll his eyes. Unsurprisingly, his sister was interested in that scrawny rat. He was so unnoticeable that Isabelle wouldn't even have looked at him once, let alone twice, had he not been presented to her on a silver platter. He wondered what was going on in that head of hers, especially with Meliorn returning to court so soon.

Alec kept standing, his body rigid as he squared his usually slouching shoulders. With his height, he towered over anyone in the room even when all of them were standing, but the effect of him staying on his feet whilst the others were sitting was even more empowering.

"We were just discussing heritages," Jace said, his golden eyes flickering over to his guard. "Have you ever heard of House Fray?"

"No," Alec responded curtly. He glared at Jace; he was not at all interested in participating in one of his stupid little games. Jace didn't seem affected by Alec's disapproval, though. Which was nothing new.

"My mother is a Fairchild," Clary said, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"Fairy wings," Alec replied before Jace could pass the comment on to him. "I had enough reason to believe all of the Fairchilds were wiped out during the Shadow Wars." Alec knew the history of all old and influential houses by heart; he had always been very interested in history and heritage, unlike his siblings. He had spent entire days in the library when he was younger, reading countless tales written on thick, aged parchment and brittle papyrus.

"Yeah, that would be because of my mother," Clary answered. "She changed the house to House Fray for our safety and pretended we had all perished." Alec noticed the look Jace was giving him, and he knew the golden king expected him to tell everything he knew about House Fairchild as soon as they were alone. Alec wasn't looking forward to that particular inquiry.

"I'm from House Lewis," Simon said when the silence dragged on. Alec just gave him a blank look for his trouble.

"Oh, I know that one," Jace supplied, making himself a little more comfortable in his padded chair before grabbing his dagger again. "There was some dispute I had to settle not too long ago. Something about a couple lords wanting to force Lady Lewis into remarrying. I let her be; couldn't understand all the hassle. Honestly, what do you even own? Two rocks and a dead tree?"

"Jace!" Isabelle complained, but Alec and Jace just grinned stupidly at each other.

The conversation changed subjects and Alec found himself growing more disinterested by every passing moment. At the very least Isabelle dragging him over here had not been entirely for naught since knowing their houses would make his background checks a lot easier. The knowledge that the redhead originated from the Fairchild house caused him to feel unnerved; there was something about that house that he should be able to remember. Something crucial.

"Alec?" Isabelle's voice shook him out of his reverie. She was looking at him with an expression on her face he knew all too well. She'd thought of something he would disapprove of, something potentially against the law and she expected her brother to participate in whatever plan she had sketched. Alec was less than pleased by this, especially since he did have a very hard time saying no to her.

"What?" he asked, looking around the room to see that everyone had diverted their attention elsewhere. Jace was throwing and catching his dagger again, oddly silent for once. Simon had scooted as far away from Isabelle, who was still sitting on the arm of his chair, as the confined space would allow, and had directed his gaze to the other side of the room, where a large engraved mahogany closet was located. Clary had cast her gaze down to her lap and was fidgeting with the lace trimmings on her sleeves. This was as private a conversation as this situation would allow, and Alec knew that he most definitely was not going to like what she expected of him.

"You have to teach Clary and Simon how to fight." It wasn't a question, nor a request; it was a command. His sister had thought of this, and she liked to get what she wanted. She was more than willing to fight for it too.

"No," Alec replied firmly.

"Why not?" Isabelle asked, turning her chin up defiantly. "You trained me." That was true; Alec had taught Izzy, a long time ago. Isabelle had been very persistent and back when they had been young. Alec didn't necessarily regret that decision, but he also didn't want to repeat the mistake. In a kingdom such as Idris, even with Jace's influence, it wasn't exactly acceptable for a woman to be able to fight. Even so, Isabelle was talented with dagger and whip, and could best most men in hand-to-hand combat. She was fierce and determined, and while Alec was still better than her, she was a splendid fighter.

"That is different," Alec defended lamely, knowing that it wouldn't matter what he said. His sister wasn't interested in hearing out his objections; she just wanted him to give in. "You're family."

"I cannot see the point."

"Isabelle, we do not know anything about these two! We do not know their intentions nor their motives. We do not know anything about their pasts and it is extremely unwise to give them skills they can use against us!" Alec replied, and this did cause a reaction in Jace.

"I do believe it is my call whether or not to train them," the king said, the smile on his face telling Alec that he was enjoying this situation much more than he should be. "Since I am a very lenient king, however, I will give this beautiful lady a choice. Do you want to learn how to fight? If not, I am more than happy to let you stay in my chambers. I am certain we can find another pastime to keep you preoccupied with."

Clary tensed up under his gaze, knowing exactly what he was implying. He deliberately neglected the brown-haired guy. Alec knew Jace thought the man to be little more than a pet for Clary, something Jace had allowed her to keep because it would pacify her. Alec himself wanted to avert his eyes from the situation; the look Jace was giving the redhead made him sick.

The petite woman raised her chin, a look of determination on her freckled face.

"Yes, I do. I want to learn how to fight," she said, and Isabelle's grin morphed into one of triumph.

"If Izzy can fight," Jace said as he rolled his head over the back of his chair, his golden hair rubbing against the deep red velvet of the padded back, turning his gaze back to the guard standing slightly behind him. "Then Clary can fight. Alec, see to it that she is trained."

Alec broke his gaze away from Jace's golden one, pressing his lips together into a thin line. He did not approve of having to teach someone he didn't trust how to fight. He couldn't see why Jace and Isabelle were so intent on seeing her trained in combat in the first place; the likelihood of her needing it at some point was close to naught. He didn't voice his doubts or demonstrations, however, instead opting to remain silent. Even if he had wanted to complain, it was shortly after Jace had turned away from him that a loud knock sounded on the double doors, disrupting their conversation.

Alec walked over to the door and opened it, surprised to see their mentor there. Apparently the confrontation with Hodge was going to happen much sooner than any of them had wanted it to.

"Alec," Hodge said, nodding at him. He was a fair and just man, with a crooked nose, dark hair that was streaked with silver, and a big scar on the right side of his face. His pet raven sat perched on his shoulder; its eyes gleamed brightly as it cocked its head from side to side. "I think I am safe to assume the King is present?"

"Hodge," Jace said from behind Alec, and Alec stepped out of the way to open up the entrance to the room. Hodge's clear eyes immediately found the two strangers currently accompanying the king, and his eyebrows rose ever so slightly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"A pleasure indeed," Hodge mentioned, the meaning of his words not lost on anyone present. "I actually came to summon you to the council room. Raphael has arrived, and he has pressing matters he wishes to discuss with you."

"It cannot wait?" Jace asked, looking at Clary with a gaze that almost seemed to contain some sort of sickish longing. Jace didn't seem too intent on keeping his obvious obsession with Clary under wraps, much to Alec's displeasure.

"No," Hodge said, stating the obvious. "Raphael would not appreciate being left waiting." Jace conceded, stepping out of the room. It wasn't until he noticed that Alec made no attempt to follow him that he turned around and frowned at his guard.

"What are you waiting for, Alec? Raphael is not going to annoy himself. Or, well, he actually is going to. Just like he will also annoy me. Share my burden."

Alec rolled his eyes and stepped out of the room, following Jace. When the door closed behind them, Hodge turned to them, a puzzled yet intrigued look on his face. "For all of our sakes, I will pretend I did not just see that. Although, just a friendly piece of advice, come up with a good excuse sometime soon."

Raphael was, as promised, waiting in the council room. He was standing near the window, just enough to the side so the sunlight could not touch him. He was dressed in black velvet and leather, and he did not bother to recognise the arrival of his king when the small entourage stepped into the room. Hodge stood back, closing the door behind them. Alec took up his position near the door, his back rigid and his mind weighing options.

"Raphael," Jace said. He was never one for unnecessary small talk with people he did not particularly appreciate. Raphael liked to toy with his subjects, almost like how a cat toyed with its prey, before quickly losing interest and discarding it in a place for the owner to see. That was how the Night Children worked sometimes, too. Mangled bodies would be found in the middle of busy streets, or on the corners of alleyways, their deaths undetermined but their inflicter not at all a mystery.

With his youthful face, pale skin and aged, wise black eyes Raphael was the spokesperson of the Children of the Night, an organisation that specialised in spying and assassinating. Their presence was everywhere, and instead of extinguishing them, Jace had opted to include Raphael in his circle of councilmen, giving him a voice and a place to deposit the intelligence he accumulated.

The oddly youthful man played with a small golden cross that hung from a thin chain around his neck as he turned, his dark eyes like soulless pools of emptiness. "My king," he said, his voice so monotonous it was almost mocking. "It's been a while. Fortunately."

"Why are you here?" Jace asked, his hands clasped behind his back and the annoyance clearly showed in his stance and in the tension of his muscles. Alec did not feel particularly sorry for him.

"No more pleasantries, I take it, then? Such a shame." Raphael's facial expression showed nothing; he didn't even bother to plaster a fake smile onto his features, instead he just looked down on his king with a vague hint of contempt.

"Listen, if you have nothing useful to say..." Jace started.

"I do have a piece of information that concerns the welfare of the kingdom, yes. I also have received some very classified intelligence from an extremely reliable source. I think that I might have to prioritise it."

Alec felt like someone had just slapped him in his face. Surely Raphael couldn't already know about that, could he? His fear was quickly confirmed, however, when Jace inquired after Raphael's intention and the man, his lips curling up into a predatory and humourless smile, answered him earnestly.

"Whispers have told me that a certain girl by the name of Clarissa from House Fairchild has recently arrived at court… Such an interesting concept; the daughter of a traitor and an exile who is in the direct presence of royalty? Very curious."

"What if your intelligence is false?" Jace asked calmly.

"I can assure you it is not," Raphael replied pleasantly.

"What do you want?" Jace's tone morphed into one of annoyance.

"Nothing, of course." Raphael never wanted nothing, and even though his facial expression nor his body language gave nothing away, they had known him for long enough now to understand how exactly Raphael worked.

"I do not believe you," Jace said. "You are like a spider, resting in its web."

"How wise of you. Although I must admit I am offended – I am nothing like a spider. The Children of the Night prefer to call themselves the predators of the night, the monsters lurking in the shadows. Spiders are too idle; all they do is sit and wait. We, however, hunt. Now that we have solved this misunderstanding, will you please follow me."

They did, albeit begrudgingly, follow Raphael to a side door that led to a small room adjoining the council chamber. The moment the door opened, the smell of decay assaulted their senses, and Jace nearly gagged. Alec steeled himself, although the stench made him feel squeamish and caused unpleasant memories to resurface.

"What is this?" Jace asked, disgusted.

"A very interesting phenomenon," Hodge said, who had come up behind them and urged them to enter the small side chamber. Raphael stood back, hovering in the doorway. He didn't look disgusted or even slightly disturbed by the scene in front of him.

"Fuck," Jace cursed, his eyes large as he gazed at the bodies that had been deposited on the floor.

It was a horse, or, well, it had once been a horse, anyway; something had clawed its front legs off below the kneecaps and tore into the shoulder and ribcage. The flesh around the wounds was black and rotten, and black liquid had rushed out of the gashes and stained the horse's copper coat with reeking darkness.

Worse, even, was the crumpled form that must at some point have been a man. Most of the body had been torn apart, and it had become gnarled and rotten throughout the process.

"It is a messenger," Hodge announced. "They left around noon. It was Raphael who first received word of the accident, if you can even call it that. We do not know what attacked them; we do know that whatever inflicted these wounds was so poisonous that it caused the flesh to decompose." He touched the assaulted shoulder of the horse to emphasise his point. The skin relented under his touch as if there was no bone left beneath it, and a slow trickle of black dirt escaped from the confinements of the body.

"Do we have a guess?" Jace asked, his expression bewildered.

"Demons," Raphael said calmly.


Arrow snorted happily, glad to be able to stretch her long limbs. Alec ran his fingers through her thick black mane, enjoying the scenery around them. It was getting late; the sun was starting to set and a beautiful blend of orange, pink and purple filled the sky above the Narrow Sea, reaching out with greedy fingers. It had been yet another sweltering hot summer day, and despite the late hour it was still clammy and not exactly pleasant outside. Arrow's silver coat gleamed with a slight sheen of sweat.

The interwoven canopy of the forest, where maple and pine trees alike entangled their branches, provided them with shelter from the harsh sunlight, and the mossy ground was freckled with specks of brightness where the light managed to filter through. The forest smelt sweet and was mostly silent, aside from Arrow's breathing, the patter of her hooves and the creaking and sighing of the leather saddle. Every now and then the shrubbery would move as an animal fled from their approaching presence, but if Alec had been out to hunt they wouldn't have been fast enough. He was renowned for his skill with bow and arrow for good reason.

Alec had decided to take Arrow out for a ride after their rendezvous with Raphael and Hodge, but not even the thundering of Arrow's hooves as she galloped through the forest was enough to drown out the weird feeling that had settled in his stomach. The way Raphael had so nonchalantly pronounced demons to be the cause of the mysterious deaths had caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand erect.

Was this a confirmation of Alec's own assumptions earlier that week, when they had gone to the infirmary and seen the scenery at the foot of the cathedral? That there was something bigger than themselves at play here? What did it even mean if the cause of that disease was indeed supernatural? If the cause of the death of the messenger and his mount was indeed a demon attack?

Arrow tugged gently on her reins, shaking Alec out of his reverie as he allowed the soft leather to slip through his gloved fingertips. She took the opportunity to stretch her elegant neck, her pace now an easy canter.

It wasn't long before Alec steered clear of the forest and changed direction to the city instead. It lay below him like a map, stretching across the area and expanding to the large harbour built upon the unruly shore of the sea. It wasn't that the sea treated them unkindly, but it was renowned for its temper nonetheless. Storms were not uncommon, and sailing it was not a task for the inexperienced.

He could see the Stele, a river that was so straight and clear it was hard to believe its creation had been nature's work, as it cut Alicante in half and met up with the sea, its fresh water enriching the fouler salty water. The cathedral of the Angel stood in the middle of the city, its white, spiralling towers dominating the view. Its grandeur was nothing but an illusion; Alec was well aware of the fact that at the foot of that building, hundreds of people lay dying.

"Ho, Arrow," he said, making his horse go slower as they ventured into the streets, her iron-shod hooves clacking on the cobblestones as she lapsed into a steady walk. The streets were mostly empty, and fortunately the stench they had encountered during their trek into the city two days prior wasn't as prominent here, although that was mostly because this area of the city was not as densely populated.

The brothel was located on the very outskirts of the city; its close proximity to the castle was both a curse and a blessing. It had after all encouraged Jace's weekly visits since travelling to and fro the place was easily achieved without attracting too much attention. Now, it was more of a blessing, since it gave Alec less time to rethink and regret his decision.

Even though it was not uncommon for him to mull over the events of the day by taking his precious horse out for a ride, he still did not quite understand why he had steered Arrow in this particular direction. Why did he feel the need to go see Magnus when his life was getting turned upside down? Since when had Magnus become such a prominent factor in his life?

He dismounted Arrow when they arrived at the small stable complex nestled neatly between two buildings on the opposite side of the square, handing her over to an eager stable boy. The mare followed the child easily, her black tail swishing as she chased flies away. Alec watched her go with a sense of finality, knowing that there was no turning back now. He sighed and adjusted his bow and quiver.

Alec turned around, crossed the small square and its dried-up fountain and ducked into the brothel. The exotic scent that was always present there immediately overwhelmed his senses, but he was not as unnerved by it as usual. Now, the scent promised that he would meet up with Magnus, which was far from unpleasant and indeed very exciting.

He entered the common room, not quite sure of himself. He had never ventured into the brothel without Jace before. He briefly wondered if he had to go to the room where Jace was usually at in order to find Magnus, but his uncertainties quickly faded when his eyes scanned the room and he saw Magnus was already there.

Granted, the beautiful man was leaning against the wall, his long body stretched out elegantly and his hip cocked slightly, while talking to a woman Alec had never seen around before. He wondered if it was one of Magnus's clients, and the thought of that being a possibility caused his stomach to lurch with an emotion that was dangerously close to jealousy. Sure, he shouldn't be too surprised or offended that Magnus saw other people than him – it was his job, after all – but that didn't make it any easier to digest.

Alec was considered turning around, fetching Arrow and riding off to the middle of nowhere when Magnus's gaze shifted to the side and locked with Alec's. His facial expression softened, almost morphing into one of fondness, before he excused himself, pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to Alec.

"Alexander," he purred when he was close enough, the silk of his robe rustling softly as he lifted his hands to clasp Alec's left one between them. He looked down on the archer, his golden-green eyes so bright and mesmerising they were almost inhuman. "It has been too long. Literally." That was true; the day Jace and he were supposed to make their visit to the brothel had come and gone, and Alec felt stupid for coming here on a whim. It could have been very much possible that he had found Magnus unavailable, or otherwise in a very compromising position. He didn't know which of those situations would be worse.

"Magnus," Alec replied. There was more that he wanted to say, but the words died on his lips as Magnus kissed his gloved hand before prying the leather garment off so he could kiss and lick the back of Alec's hand properly. He looked up at Alec from underneath his eyelashes as he did so, and Alec noticed the shimmer of glitter that had been applied to his eyelids, the green colour fitting his silk clothes and making his beautiful eyes even more breathtaking.

"I am glad you came," Magnus said, eradicating Alec's doubts, before lacing their fingers together and pulling him in the direction of the corridor.

"Were you not talking to someone?" Alec asked. Despite his confusion he followed Magnus willingly.

"She is not important," Magnus responded. "I am sure the fair lady does not mind." He waved at the woman in passing, but she just rolled her eyes and went back to her drink, a small smile on her face.

Magnus led Alec up the stairs and eventually into his room. It looked mostly the same as the time before; there was a small, yet completely unnecessary, fire blazing in the hearth, ornaments adorned the walls and the main colour that dominated the chambers was green, although a little bit of yellow and black made their appearances as well. Alec had preciously little time to appreciate the furnishings, however, he had just placed his bow and quiver against the mantelpiece when Magnus pinned him against the wall, the door just closing behind them.

Alec gasped as he felt Magnus's body against his, surprised by the straight-forwardness Magnus was exhibiting. He had never been this enthusiastic before, although it was not hard to comprehend what had elicited the change in behaviour. Alec had initiated that he was comfortable with going a step further during their previous visit, after all. Magnus took advantage of Alec's breathlessness by capturing his lips and kissing him.

"Magnus," Alec breathed when they broke the kiss. His legs felt unsteady and his entire body was alive with feelings he had never experienced before. Magnus made him feel hot and cold at the same time, and it was a sensation that was as strange as it was addictive. He was growing almost uncomfortably hot, though; and he could feel another part of him coming alive.

"I'm sorry, Alexander. I just cannot resist," Magnus said, not looking apologetic at all. He ran his hands down Alec's body and Alec rested the back of his head against the wall, exposing his neck completely as he tried to calm down before this would lead him to a very embarrassing situation. Magnus's lips and tongue immediately attacked the newly-exposed skin of Alec's throat.

"I don't think-" Alec started, but Magnus quickly ended whatever excuse was stumbling over the archer's lips by covering them with his own.

"You have been thinking too much," he said when he pulled away, his green eyes studying Alec's face intently. "You look tired. Worrying so much is bad for your skin, Alexander." A smirk formed on Magnus's lips as he moved in close again, his breath ghosting over Alec's ear, causing him to shiver. "Let me take those worries away."

Alec didn't know how exactly it happened or how much time had passed, but all of a sudden he found himself lying on his back on the bed, Magnus on top of him, their bare chests stuck together as they kissed and touched each other and simply felt. Magnus's hands were on his hips, his fingers sliding slowly underneath his breeches to explore the skin underneath. He was gentle and moved slowly, almost as if he was prepared to retreat as soon as his advances caused Alec to panic or startle.

Alec's mind wasn't really working anymore; all he could think about was Magnus lying on top of him, and the effect this was having on his body as every single sense he had stood at attention. Magnus pulled back eventually, his eyes studying the exposed skin of Alec's torso intently.

"What is this?" he asked, his fingers gently touching the thick black lines drawn into the skin of the junction between his stomach and his hip.

"A rune," Alec answered after he had craned his neck to see what exactly Magnus was talking about. His mind wasn't functional enough to comprehend what exactly Magnus meant without the visual support. "It's like a tattoo."

"Why?" Magnus murmured, moving down to place a gentle kiss against the inked skin.

"It binds me to Jace."

"Did the one on your hand not bind you to Jace?"

"No, that ties me to the throne. This one, this one ties me directly to Jace." Magnus hummed and dipped his fingers beneath Alec's pants, his fingertips brushing over the sensitive flesh there. Alec gasped. "Magnus, it's getting late."

"The weather is bad," Magnus reasoned, and it was true; sometime during their make out session it had started to storm, and even though the heavy rainfall was definitely needed after all those weeks of heat and drought, it was not the most favourable weather to ride a distance in.

At some point a gust of wind had entered the room and the shutters had closed quietly, shutting out the loud howling from outside. Magnus lifted himself up a little so he could gaze into Alec's eyes, his fingers brushing him still. "Stay." Alec answered by wrapping his arms around Magnus's shoulders, closing the gap between their lips, kissing Magnus hungrily again.

Ahhh, is it finally getting steamy? Four chapters into a brothel AU and there's finally some action... Quite the accomplishment, I guess! Let me know what you think! :] Reviews are very much appreciated!