A/N: Hello, sweethearts. I'm sorry it took so long, and that it's so short. But. I decided to divide this chapter in two, because uhh it just didn't seem right to me. So, the second part is already written and you can expect an update pretty soon, maybe even tomorrow :)

I just want to remind you, the 'things' in this fic will be progressing really slowly. Slowly building sexual tension etc, yes. No kissing for another... few chapters. 'Kay? You know how it is. We're in the Jane Austen!universe ;P

Beta'ed by wonderful ChaseThisLightWithMe :) She's so patient with me, thank you sunshine :3

Hope you enjoy!

Alec had been asked to come back to Idris House the very next day. (In fact, Magnus hadn't given him too much of a choice. When they were saying their goodbyes in the late afternoon the previous day, Magnus had announced, "We are going to start working on our designs tomorrow." Alec hadn't even thought about declining.)

And there he was, standing at Magnus' doorstep, the tip of his nose slowly turning pink in the cool morning air. The sun was bright and the sky clear, only a few fluffy cloudlets scattered across the baby blue. But still, there was a coldness in the air, creeping into Alec's bones, making his shoulders shiver from time to time. September weather was treacherous – one could be chilled to the marrow in the morning, and then get a sudden urge to take off one's coat to stop sweating so much in the warm afternoon sun.

He had left early (more like sneaked out from his own house), this time managing to avoid Isabelle's prying questions. He had dismissed Hodge's attempts to talk to him with a single, "Later!". He felt guilty for a moment - he shouldn't have treated the old man with such unceremonious manners, but then the doors of Idris House opened before him, and all his previous thoughts left his mind. He was immediately enveloped in the miraculously familiar and comforting scent, his brain getting foggy with its intensity. Yet the man standing now in front of him was not Magnus Bane. The stranger looked about thirty years old, maybe younger. He had fair hair and greenish skin that made him look sick or just plain unhappy.

"Good morning," he said, "Mister Lightwood, I presume?" Alec nodded, but he had a feeling that the man would continue his monotone speech regardless of the answer. "My name is Ragnor and I steward this den of misery."

So that was Ragnor, the famous magician? He was younger than Alec had expected. Once, Magnus had mentioned he'd known Ragnor since he was a little child (and abruptly stopped at that information, as if he'd said too much). After that Alec had imagined the man as Magnus' guardian rather than… playmate.

"Maybe you would be able to pour some sense into him," Ragnor was saying now, stepping aside to let Alec in. The heir ignored the lack of 'my lord'; it seemed that everything and everyone of the Bane household was rather… informal. "He has been infuriating the whole day," it was barely nine in the morning, "of course, he infuriates me normally, but today he is absolutely unbearable." Alec was rendered speechless; such relationship between a servant and his master was foreign to him. The way Ragnor spoke of Magnus- as if the younger man was a spoiled brat- but with a hint of affection; he didn't know that it was possible. But then, Magnus called Ragnor his 'companion', which sounded a lot like a 'friend'. "He won't tell me what happened, he just screams at me in a language even I don't know. But it must be bad news, he received this letter…"

That caught Alec's attention right away. "Where is he?" he asked, his nerves on alert. He might have been amused by Ragnor's attitude, but what if something really serious had happened?

"In the day room. Pacing up and down, I imagine."

Alec knew the way, so he just thanked Ragnor and left him in the hallway, hurrying to see Magnus. Once he was at the right door, he knocked twice and barged in, but was caught off guard by the change of scenery. It was the same room, but different: some pieces of furniture had disappeared, some had been uncovered and arranged, and all that had happened in one night. Magnus was there too, also changed. His hair was loose, straight as straws, dangling around his face. He was, for once, properly dressed, even if a little bit extravagant. He was wearing a black tailcoat with golden patterns on the sleeves, and it made his whole figure seem really dark. Ragnor's predictions turned out to be correct: Magnus was pacing furiously around the room, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

Alec closed the door after himself. The noise made Magnus look up and notice him.

"A catastrophe!" Magnus exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. He looked more furious than sad, and that somehow managed to soothe Alec's nerves. Then Magnus added in a heartbroken voice, "A complete disaster."

"What happened?" Alec stepped closer, feeling like he was playing with a wild beast.

He didn't need to worry though; at the sound of his voice Magnus limbs seemed to give up and he slumped on the nearest armchair. He bent over himself, hid his face in his hands. "My clavichord," he mumbled into his palms. "There's been an accident and my clavichord is lost. Broken." He straightened up to peek at Alec. "Damn it, I loved that instrument."

Alec reached for a chair and moved it closer, then sat next to Magnus. "Hey," he murmured and put his palm on Magnus' shoulder, because he didn't know what else to say. It sounded like that clavichord was so much more than an instrument, like it was a piece of Magnus' soul, and Alec knew that it was possible. People tended to get attached to soulless objects, especially when they had the power of creation in them (the objects or the people, it didn't matter). He'd never had such a connection in his life, but he had heard of it. Quite literally. Or maybe the clavichord belonged to his family, maybe it was impossibly precious? Magnus seemed like a person in need of something that would remind him of home.

Alec didn't say any of that out loud, instead, being his insensitive self, he muttered, "I didn't know you could play."

He had his eyes fixed on Magnus intertwined hands (his long, elegant fingers suddenly made so much more sense, and now Alec couldn't stop imagining them running across the cold keys), and he almost knocked Magnus on the chin with his head when he heard him chuckle. He raised his eyes and saw one corner of Magnus' lips raised, a tiny little smile.

"I haven't had the occasion to tell you," Magnus said, his voice steadier. We've known each other for two whole days, silly, written across his face. "Or to show you. And now I will never have." He winced as if the thought physically hurt him.

"You may still have," Alec started, unsure how Magnus would react. "There is a clavichord at the Institute. Nobody plays it, Izzy prefers the harp. I know it's not the same… But you could use it, at least until you buy a new one?"

Magnus looked at him very closely. He didn't comment on the fact that Alec practically invited him to his house, quite ineptly, but still, it was a very sweet gesture. Instead, he casually threw, "Izzy?"

Alec let out a puff of air. He nearly whined, maybe in frustration or maybe of hurt, because somehow Magnus managed to decline his offer without even acknowledging it out loud. "Isabelle. My sister," he explained. He could talk about his siblings; it was an easy subject, a safe subject. If that was the distraction Magnus needed right now, he could do it. "She has her phases. A couple of years ago she demanded to be taught how to play the clavichord, but she got bored soon after. Now she claims to love the harp." This time as he was speaking, his eyes were glued to his own hands. "She's quite good at it." Magnus hands were just too beautiful; looking at them somehow didn't feel comfortable, Alec felt as if didn't have the privilege to look or even think of the other's man hands as 'beautiful' or 'perfect' or 'delicate' (even though the latter was a fact, not an opinion). "She is very talented. But she says she doesn't have enough patience to be a 'proper genius'. Her own words."

There was a pause. A few deep breaths mingled together, before one of them spoke up again.

"If she looks anything like you," Magnus said softly, "She must create an exceptionally beautiful picture with her harp."

Alec froze. Did Magnus just call him beautiful? Or did he express his interest in Alec's sister? Alec awkwardly cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. We are very much alike in appearance, but our characters are different. She is more… confident."

Magnus' eyelids were half-closed, his voice a gentle murmur. "Mhm, I can imagine that." He was now sitting deep in his armchair, sunk into it, as though the piece of furniture was too overwhelming. His head was leaning heavily on the backrest, his chin pointing up at the ceiling. "But you are patient," he continued, "And it's a virtue, too."

Alec was surprised that Magnus was actually listening to him. He felt like he was babbling mostly to himself, a one-sided need to fill the silence. But it turned out that Alec's words were not only a perfect distraction from the bad news, but also an interesting and pleasant story. He decided to continue, it seemed like his 'babbling' was having a relaxing effect on Magnus. "I also have a brother, Jace. I mean, Jonathan. He's a year younger than me. Very compulsive, sarcastic," Alec recited. "Sometimes rude," he added as an afterthought, smiling fondly. "So maybe you're right, I think you could say I'm the patient one. We are very close, all fo-three of us." He swallowed. No, no, no, that wasn't the direction Alec wanted this conversation to go. With his breath held, he waited for Magnus to notice the slip of his tongue.

But Magnus didn't say anything. A silence hung in the air. Alec risked a glance at the other man: there was no danger, Magnus was not looking in his direction. His head was turned, Alec could only see one side of his face, his jawline, the line of his cheek, the strained tendon in his neck.

"What about you?" Alec asked quietly. "Do you have any brothers or sisters, Magnus?"

"You know," Magnus started and Alec was startled by such a quick response – he almost thought that Magnus was asleep; his chest was rising and falling in calm, even breaths, "not long ago, somebody said one thing. Or maybe I read it somewhere…? That some people are like clavichords, they play in solitude, and others are like harpsichords, they are a part of a concerto, they belong with other instruments." He turned his head and looked at Alec, raw pleading in his eyes. What was he begging for? Understanding? For Alec not to delve into it more?

So Alec decided to let it go, for now. He wasn't by any means going to give up, but it was not like Magnus was obligated to give him some information in return for Alec's pathetic sharing. If Magnus needed space and time to stop speaking in metaphors, Alec could try to give him that. He was 'the patient one' after all.

They didn't get much work done that day. In fact, they didn't even start. Magnus was in a foul mood for the rest of their time together even though he tried to hide it, but Alec wasn't that blind. Or cruel. He decided to leave before luncheon and quite accidentally it was then when Magnus finally started to cheer up. (And oh, that stung.)

He saw Alec to the door and they stood at the entrance. Magnus was observing Alec's every move with his cat-like eyes, all in silence. Finally, Alec put on his top hat, bowed slightly and turned on his heel to leave.

"I know what I am going to do," Magnus announced when Alec jumped down the few steps.

He twirled around and saw Magnus leaning against the doorframe and it was as if every wan stray sunray decided to focus on his person. Alec huffed, it was just unfair. Magnus was bright on his own, he didn't need help.

"I need to buy a new clavichord," Magnus continued and Alec let him, because where was it all going exactly? "But I want one created especially for me. I'm going to hire an artisan and he's going to come here and work for me."

Alec pondered for a moment. Why did Magnus insist so much on being the clavichord? Then again, the process of building a new instrument would take a good few months. Was it Magnus' way of showing his willingness? Was he giving Alec a chance? – no, it wasn't about him, it was about Magnus letting somebody new into his life, learning to trust.

A selfish thought crept into Alec's mind and made itself comfortable in the back his head: maybe he was the reason Magnus wanted to try and open himself. Perhaps Magnus chose to place confidence in him, because Magnus thought him special.

* The words Magnus says about people, clavichords and harpsichords are the actual words of Jean Paul. I wanted Magnus to play some instrument in this and a clavichord seemed like a good option. Plus, it was popular back then.

Part 2 of this chapter coming soon. Thanks for reading! :)