Summary:

Dining with the Royal Family…what could go wrong?

So this AU is kind of set in Medieval Times, but a little different. I'm attributing the functioning of showers and modern stuff like that to advanced plumbing/a little magic :)

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Alec stepped out of the shower, shivering when the cool air hit his skin.

He felt almost feverish – he wasn't sure whether that was the after-effect of over-exercising, or his run-in with the Warlock.

If the former, it wasn't the first time. He had a habit of working out his frustrations.

If the latter…well, he wasn't quite sure what to do with that. It must be excitement, he reasoned. He'd never met a Warlock before, and Magnus was just so…normal. In terms of his presence, anyway. In every other way – appearance, attractiveness, confidence…he was most decidedly abnormal.

He dried quickly, reaching into his closet for his normal attire, then froze.

Magnus had been invited to dinner. Should he try to look a little more presentable?

He cast a critical eye over his array of garments.

There was nothing even remotely interesting. The brightest thing he owned was a burgundy winter cape his mother had ordered for him. He'd worn it once, at her behest, and it had remained crumpled underneath his other normal black cloaks ever since.

He shook his head.

What was he doing?

Magnus had been complimentary, certainly. But it had to be a simple personality quirk. In any case, he'd complimented him when he'd been tired and sweaty, clad only in loose cotton pants and a sleeveless shirt.

He pulled out a dark green tunic, ignoring the pesky little thought that told him it was the exact shade of Magnus's eyes, if only much duller.

He paired it with his regular dark leather breeches, cinching the tunic in with a woven belt, cream leather and bronze.

He smoothed his hair down and left, eager to see Magnus again.

Anything that made his usually silent, stoic family dinners more interesting was most welcome.

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Magnus made his way into the Castle, appreciating the rosy glow of the sky as the sun set behind him. Alicante was beautiful, he reasoned. If that was all he would enjoy during his stay, then that was enough.

He nodded to the Guards outside the formal dining room as they opened the doors for him…and froze.

The King and Queen were seated at opposite ends of the long table, dressed as finely as he – albeit much less vibrantly – and wearing their usual expressions of discontent.

Princess Isabelle was sitting along one side; he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting her yet, but he'd heard of her beauty. The tales were solidly founded. With smooth, creamy skin and glossy dark hair, he didn't doubt that she was likely one of the most beautiful women in all of Idris. There was an empty seat next to her, clearly where he was to be sat.

Opposite Isabelle sat the King's adopted son, the young Lord Herondale, Magnus remembered. He could not, however, remember the boy's first name.

He was very handsome, Magnus conceded, with shining golden curls and the most unusual golden eyes to match. However, his expression was one of bored vanity – Magnus could tell that he knew exactly how attractive he was.

Still, he might have held Magnus's attention for the duration of the dinner – if not for the boy seated next to him, the very reason for Magnus's current incapability to move.

It was Alec.

A name for which he now realised, of course, was short for Alexander.

Prince Alexander.

Magnus had flirted with the Prince.

And failed to greet him properly.

He wasn't often rendered speechless, but as Alec – Alexander, he corrected himself – glanced up, their eyes meeting, he could feel the blush that spread across the Prince's fair cheeks mirrored upon his own.

Magnus felt both joy and disappointment at once – joy, that the flush on the boy's cheeks earlier hadn't been due to the exercise. He thought that he'd seen a flash of interest in his eyes, but one could never be sure. However, there was no possibility of courting him now. None at all.

"Warlock Bane."

The King's deep voice cut through the silent tension, jolting him out of the tableau.

"We are pleased that you could join us."

His voice was so flat that Magnus would have believed him even it hadn't been dripping with derision.

"I prefer Magnus," he answered, sweeping into the room after shaking himself internally. He could rescue his dignity, at least. "Warlock Bane sounds like I'm hundreds of years old…which I am, of course, but I don't look it."

He dropped into his chair elegantly, sending a wink at Isabelle, who was grinning delightedly at him.

"Your highness." He bowed his head. "I am most enchanted to make your acquaintance."

"Warlock Ba – Magnus, I mean," she bowed her head demurely. "The pleasure is all mine! And might I add," her voice dropped conspiratorially. "Your attire is incredible."

He grinned, pleased.

"Why, thank you, Princess. I aim to impress."

"Isabelle, please." She returned his smile.

Magnus didn't let his surprise show, but he thought that he just might have made a friend. In the royal family! He supposed that stranger things had happened.

He lifted his head to where Isabelle was gesturing across the table.

"This is my brother, Lord Jonathon Herondale – but call him Jace,"

The blonde cocked a smile and lifted a hand in greeting, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"And this is my brother, the Crown Prince Alexander. He likes to be known as Alec."

The corners of Alec's mouth turned up in a little smile, but he only met Magnus's gaze for a moment before dropping his head.

"Of course." Magnus bowed his head to each of them.

"Delighted to make your acquaintances, Lord Herondale, Prince Alexander."

Perhaps his voice sounded a little cool and Alec seemed to notice as he jerked his head up questioningly. Magnus forced himself to look away. It was best if he didn't engage the Prince in any more conversation than was necessary. However beautiful he might be…he was heir to the throne. Aka – off limits.

He was momentarily distracted from his internal struggle as a gaggle of chefs poured in, placing steaming bowls of soup in front of them, along with platters of crisp, buttery bread. Magnus sniffed appreciatively before tucking in. The silence however, did not last long.

"So, Magnus…" The young Lord – Jace – didn't sound at all hesitant in using his first name. "Have you discovered the thief?"

Magnus opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off.

"You are not to speak of such matters at dinner, Jonathon." If Magnus's voice was cool, the Queen's was icy.

He blinked.

"It's quite alright, your Majesty. It is their home too, they have a right to know who has trespassed."

She looked astounded, her mouth forming a razor thin line. He took pleasure in having shocked her, and turned back to Jace.

"However, I'm afraid that magic does not normally work that way, not if you are skilled. And whomever broke into the vault was exceptionally skilled, it seems."

"So it was a Warlock, then?" Isabelle sounded excited.

"Perhaps. But not necessarily. There are others who can wield magic – Vampires have some power, and even Shadowhunters, if runes are utilised, or they seek a Warlocks aid."

"So it could be anyone, then?" Alec spoke for the first time, a slight frown on his face. The question was directed at Magnus, but Alec seemed to be looking anywhere but.

"I think we can rule out the people in this room, at least." Magnus replied, drily. "Unless you have something to confess?"

Alec coloured. "Of course not."

"Well, you know more Warlocks and Vampires than we do. Do you suspect anyone?"

"Jonathon." The King glared at him. "This is not appropriate. The Warlock and I have already spoken of this."

"We have." Magnus played with his cutlery, deep in thought. "I have, however, had some time to mull it over…there is a particular person I would be predisposed to investigate."

The King turned his cold glare on him.

Magnus let the suspense hold for a moment, wondering whether or not it was smart to divulge his suspicions. He'd been hearing of things lately, things that hadn't necessarily been cause for concern…until the sword had been stolen.

"Valentine."

He lifted his head to look at the King, ignoring the shocked gasp from the other end of the table.

He looked caught between anger and surprise. Magnus wondered idly if there was a ban on speaking the name, and although capital punishment had been long outlawed, if the King might make an exception for him. It had certainly been a long time since a look of such hatred had been directed at him.

"Impossible." He growled, after a long silence. "Valentine is locked up. The Silent Brothers guard him."

Magnus looked at him pityingly.

"Valentine had everything ripped away from him."

Memories clawed their way to the surface, sharp in detail. Sixteen years passed in the blink of an eye to an immortal like him.

"Do you remember how he was? Violent, passionate, determined…he would have torn the world apart to claim what he thought should be his. He almost did – and would have succeeded, if not for Jocelyn."

"And Jocelyn's sacrifice was not in vain. Valentine is done."

Robert looked more than angry now. By the faces of his three children, Magnus guessed that he had never spoken to them about it.

He bowed his head.

"Indeed, it was not. She ensured the safety of many. For both our kinds. But as for Valentine…he is not dead. And I fear that only death will stop a man such as he."

"It is impossible to escape the City of Bones."

Jace's voice broke through.

"It may be." Magnus acquiesced. "Or it may not be. Just because it has never been done before, does not mean it is impossible. However," he added, because he was going to anyway, not because Alec was now looking scared. "I am not suggesting that Valentine has escaped. Only that he may have been behind this theft. Through another."

Isabelle frowned.

"How would he have contacted someone from inside?"

Magnus pursed his lips.

"That, I cannot say. Just that magic is fickle, clever. It can do almost anything if you are willing to pay the price. And I fear that there is not much Valentine wouldn't pay."

"Enough."

The Queen's voice interrupted them, soft but deadly.

"Warlock Bane, I do not appreciate you frightening my children."

"We have a right to know – " Jace protested.

"The truth." Maryse continued, calmly. "And this is all merely speculation. There is no need to lose our heads over it, especially since the suspect in question is currently serving his sentence inside the most impenetrable fortress in the world."

"I agree." Robert said. "Warlock Bane, if you have nothing else of value to add, then your services are concluded. You are free to return home tomorrow."

Magnus raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Isabelle sat fuming next to him, and Jace looked furious. But neither of them could override their parents. He could feel Alec's eyes on him, but refused the urge to meet his gaze. He knew when he'd been beaten.

"Of course. My thanks for your generous hospitality."

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The rest of the dinner continued silently, each of them immersed in their own thoughts.

Alec fought a silent battle inside, wishing he'd had the courage to speak out against his parents on Magnus's behalf. Every time they had spoken to him he'd cringed inside; how could Magnus stand such disrespect? He'd looked so calm, so blasé…Alec wondered if he was used to this kind of thing, and despaired in a world where he'd have to have learned to affect such nonchalance. It wasn't right.

He could tell that at least his siblings shared his discomfort, to some extent.

Both Izzy and Jace refused to meet their parents' eyes, and Magnus was avoiding his.

It was driving him crazy: all he wanted was for Magnus to look at him, so that somehow, he could let him know that he did not share the same views as his parents.

He wasn't sure why it was so important to him.

But Magnus had treated him differently all evening, reserved and blunt where before he'd been open and bright.

He'd seen his hesitation when he'd first entered the dining room. Alec wouldn't blame him for resenting all royalty, or even all Shadowhunters, if this was the treatment he'd learned to expect from them.

Perhaps Magnus hadn't realised that he was a Shadowhunter. Most of his runes had been covered, after all.

But then – Alec reminded himself – it really didn't matter. Magnus would be gone, and they wouldn't cross paths again.

Even so, he couldn't help the urge to jump up as Magnus rose at the end of their dinner, swiftly exiting after his parents.

He didn't, though.

He tried to banish all thoughts of the Warlock in his mind, but found it quite the impossible feat.

Even hours later, after they'd retired to their rooms, his head still swam.

He thought over everything that Magnus had said, his warnings.

Was his father a fool to disregard them, however outlandish they may seem? He'd always had the utmost trust and respect for his father; for all his faults as a parent, he had proven time and time again to be a wise and able King.

But now…both trust and respect wavered.

And the thing was…it didn't even feel new.

Alec wondered when he'd begun nurturing misgivings toward his parents.

He lay there for a long time, his thoughts warring inside his head. Eventually he slept, albeit fitfully, awaking with the first light of morning.

He'd been granted a few hours reprieve; it had seemed, with a dreamless sleep.

But upon waking, all his thoughts and worries came flooding back.

His heart jumped into his throat as he realised that Magnus would be leaving today.

He'd decided, though it was against everything he'd ever done, that it was too foolish not to heed Magnus's words.

He barely knew him, didn't know if he could trust him, but as the future King of Idris Alec felt a certain responsibility.

He jumped out of bed, pulling on the first clothes his hands landed on, racing through corridors and down the Great Staircase.

"Ah, Alexander."

He whirled round, only feet from the door, to see his father standing under an archway, a frown on his face.

"Wherever are you going, at this hour?"

"Just…I thought…the Warlock…" he mumbled, only succeeding in increasing his father's frown.

"A mistake to invite him here, I know. Not to worry though, he's already left. I saw him out myself."

Alec struggled not to look disappointed.

Robert shook his head, not noticing Alec's reaction.

"We do, however, still require the services of a Warlock. I've sent out a general summons, I hope we'll next entertain one of better graces."

"So early, to have achieved so much." Alec said, weakly.

His father just nodded briskly.

"As you'll have to learn, Alexander, Politics never sleeps. As King, you will always be working."

Alec said nothing.

"It helps, of course, to have a strong support system." Robert continued, eyeing him. "Your mother may not be the one in power but she has been invaluable to me, since long before I ascended."

Alec's heart beat faster as he caught onto his father's meaning. His throat felt dry.

"If you have no objections, I would very much recommend that Lady Lydia will be able to provide you with the same support that I've enjoyed."

"But…Jace…" Alec protested, weakly.

"Jonathon has informed me that his attachment to Lady Branwell was but a fleeting fancy. She never entertained his attentions. And while she would make him a good wife also – Jonathon wishes to join the army. It would be a waste for a Lady such as she to be left alone for such long periods of time."

Alec felt as though the floor were unstable beneath him. He gulped, unable to get enough air to his lungs.

"Objections?" His father pressed.

Alec shook his head, glaring at the floor.

"Wonderful." Robert clapped his hands. "I will meet with Lord Branwell to negotiate the details. We will speak of this more later."

Alec leaned back against the wall, feeling a cloak of cold dread settling over his skin.

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Thank you for reading my work!

There is going to be a LOT of Malec in this, but I'm building up the story in these first few chapters so bear with me...also its going to be a slow burn. Like, really slow. But it will be worth it, I promise ;)

I hope you've all had a beautiful day, much love to you all :D 3