tough love
A Seelie's Poison
The clatter of cutlery and the murmur of conversation filled the spacious dining room of the Lightwood-Bane penthouse. Tonight was a rare occasion, a full family dinner, complete with Jace and Clary, Izzy and Simon, and, of course, Magnus and Alec. The air buzzed with a comfortable warmth, a testament to the unconventional but undeniably strong bonds that held them all together. Magnus, ever the gracious host, had outdone himself with a spread that covered the long mahogany table: spicy curries, glistening roasted vegetables, and a trifle so decadent it practically sparkled.
He sat at the head of the table, a picture of relaxed elegance in a shimmering jade silk shirt, his eyes sparkling as he listened to Simon recount a particularly bizarre vampire council meeting. Opposite him, Alec sat, looking handsome and a little weary in a simple black sweater, his usual stoic demeanor softened by the presence of his loved ones.
But as the evening wore on, a subtle unease began to prickle at Magnus. He found his gaze repeatedly drawn to Alec, who seemed… off. More withdrawn than usual, perhaps. And there was a certain stiffness in his posture, a way he shifted in his seat that Magnus found unsettling. It wasn’t a limp, not this time, but a general air of discomfort, a subtle tension in his shoulders and a slight pallor beneath his skin. Alec kept glancing at his left leg, almost imperceptibly, and a flicker of something — pain? — would cross his features before he quickly masked it.
Magnus’s warlock senses, finely attuned to his husband, were screaming at him. Something was wrong. Alec was being shifty, too quiet, too quick to agree with whatever was said, rather than engaging in his usual thoughtful way. He caught Alec’s eye across the table, and Alec quickly looked away, busying himself with cutting a piece of chicken.
Magnus narrowed his eyes. He knew that look. It was the same look Alec got right before he tried to hide an injury, the same look he’d had just yesterday. He pushed his plate away, his appetite suddenly gone. He leaned subtly towards Izzy, who was seated to his left, her dark hair a sleek curtain against her shoulders. She was currently engaged in an animated discussion with Clary about a new rune design.
– Izzy, my dear, – Magnus murmured, keeping his voice low enough so only she could hear over the general din. – A quick question, if you wouldn’t mind.
Izzy paused, turning her dazzling smile to him. – Of course, Magnus. What’s up?
– Has anything… unusual happened at the Institute today? – he asked, trying to sound casual, but his eyes were fixed on Alec.
Izzy frowned thoughtfully, tapping a perfectly manicured finger against her chin. – Unusual? Hmm, not really. Same old, same old, you know. A few rogue demons, some paperwork piling up… Oh! – Her eyes lit up with a sudden recollection. – Well, there was that Seelie sacrifice.
Magnus felt a cold dread snake through him, tightening its grip around his chest. A Seelie sacrifice. His mind reeled back to yesterday, to Alec’s “little scratch,” the deep laceration on his left thigh, just above the knee. The very leg Alec was now subtly favoring.
A Seelie sacrifice.
His blood ran cold. Seelies, fae creatures, were notoriously dangerous, their magic imbued with a unique, often insidious poison. A cut from a Seelie blade, especially during a ritual sacrifice, could be incredibly toxic. If Alec had performed such a sacrifice with an open, healing wound…
The implications hit him like a physical blow. The sacrificial poison could have seeped into the still-healing gash, infecting it, festering beneath the surface. It would explain Alec’s pallor, his discomfort, his shifty behavior. It would explain everything.
Magnus’s gaze snapped back to Alec, who was now engaged in a quiet conversation with Jace. Alec glanced up, meeting Magnus’s eyes across the table. For a split second, Alec’s expression flickered with something akin to guilt, then quickly hardened into his usual guarded mask.
But it was too late. Magnus saw it all. The knowledge, the realization, ignited a slow, burning rage within him. A cold, furious anger that settled deep in his gut. How *dare* he? How dare Alec be so utterly, recklessly careless with his own life, with his own body, especially after everything they’d discussed yesterday? After Magnus had literally stripped him naked and healed him, only for Alec to go and open himself up to such a dangerous, potentially life-threatening infection.
He forced a smile, a brittle, strained thing that didn’t reach his eyes, and turned back to Izzy. – Thank you, my dear. That’s… very illuminating.
He spent the rest of dinner in a haze of simmering fury, barely registering the conversation around him. He nodded in the right places, offered polite smiles, but his mind was miles away, consumed by the image of Alec’s infected wound and the sheer idiocy of his husband’s actions. He felt a terrible resentment building, a profound sense of betrayal. He had warned Alec, he had healed Alec, he had made him promise. And Alec had, once again, proven himself to be the most infuriatingly self-sacrificing, self-neglecting Shadowhunter on the planet.
Alec, sensing the sudden shift in Magnus’s demeanor, tried to engage him a few times, asking about his day, commenting on the food. But Magnus offered only clipped, monosyllabic answers, his eyes refusing to meet Alec’s. Alec’s brow furrowed in confusion, a subtle worry beginning to etch itself onto his features.
The dinner eventually wound down, and goodbyes were exchanged. Magnus maintained his polite but distant façade, even as Clary hugged him, and Simon clapped him on the shoulder. He forced himself to be civil, for the sake of their guests, for the sake of the fragile peace of their family dinner.
But the moment the last of their family had departed, and the heavy ward-door closed with a definitive thud, the fragile veneer of Magnus’s composure shattered.
He walked past Alec without a word, heading straight for the elevator. Alec, looking bewildered, followed him. The elevator ride up to their penthouse was agonizingly silent, thick with unspoken tension. Alec kept glancing at Magnus, his expression a mixture of confusion and growing concern.
– Magnus? – Alec finally ventured, his voice quiet, tentative. – Is everything alright? You’ve been… quiet all evening.
Magnus kept his gaze fixed on the gleaming brass doors of the elevator, his jaw clenched. He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The anger was a roaring fire in his chest, too potent to be voiced without erupting into a full-blown argument, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. Not here.
The elevator chimed, announcing their arrival. Magnus strode out, heading directly for their bedroom. Alec followed, his worry deepening.
As Magnus reached the bedroom door, he stopped abruptly, turning to face Alec. His eyes, usually warm and full of affection for his husband, were now cold, hard, and blazing with a dangerous light. Alec flinched, taken aback by the intensity of Magnus’s gaze.
Before Alec could utter another word, Magnus moved. He stepped into Alec’s personal space, his hands reaching out, not to comfort, but to grasp Alec’s face, pulling him into a searing, unexpected kiss.
Alec gasped, surprised, but quickly responded, his own worries temporarily forgotten in the sudden, passionate onslaught. Magnus’s lips were demanding, urgent, his hands tangling in Alec’s hair, pulling him closer. It was a kiss fueled by something wild and untamed, a raw intensity that Alec hadn’t felt from Magnus in a long time.
They stumbled backwards, Magnus leading the way, his lips never leaving Alec’s. Alec’s hands went to Magnus’s waist, gripping him tightly, returning the kiss with equal fervor. The anger, the tension, the unspoken accusations – for a moment, they were forgotten, consumed by the sudden blaze of passion.
Magnus’s hands moved from Alec’s hair, down his chest, fumbling with the hem of his sweater. Alec, dizzy with the unexpected passion, responded in kind, his fingers already working at the buttons of Magnus’s silk shirt. Clothes began to shed, discarded carelessly as they moved deeper into the room. The air grew thick with anticipation, with the scent of their combined magic and desire.
Alec’s sweater was tossed aside, then his t-shirt. Magnus’s shirt followed. They were both breathing heavily, their bodies pressed together, skin against skin. Alec’s hands roamed over Magnus’s back, feeling the lean muscle beneath his fingers. Magnus, in turn, was practically devouring Alec with his kisses, trailing them down his neck, over his collarbone.
Alec’s jeans were next. He kicked them off, then reached for Magnus’s trousers. Within moments, they were both clad only in their underwear, their bodies flushed and hot. Magnus’s gaze swept over Alec’s body, lingering for a moment on his left thigh, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he returned to Alec’s mouth.
They reached the bed, falling onto it in a tangle of limbs. Alec was on his back, Magnus hovering over him, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and something else, something cold and dangerous that Alec couldn’t quite decipher through the haze of passion.
Magnus kissed him again, deep and possessive, his hands moving to Alec’s boxers. With a swift, practiced motion, he peeled them down, then off, leaving Alec completely naked.
It was at that precise moment, when Alec was utterly exposed, vulnerable and aroused, that Magnus’s eyes, usually molten gold with desire, hardened into chips of pure ice. The kiss broke, abruptly and without warning.
Alec blinked, confused, his body still humming with unfulfilled desire. – Magnus? – he whispered, reaching for him, but Magnus recoiled slightly, his expression now a mask of fury.
Before Alec could react, before he could even process the sudden change, Magnus snapped his fingers. A shimmer of cerulean magic, cold and binding, wrapped around Alec’s wrists and ankles. He tried to move, but the magic held him fast, pinning him spread-eagled to the bed, utterly helpless.
– Magnus! – Alec exclaimed, his voice sharp with shock and a dawning horror. – What are you doing?! Let me go!
Magnus ignored his pleas. His eyes, now blazing with a terrifying intensity, swept down Alec’s body, lingering on his left thigh. Alec followed his gaze, and his breath hitched.
There, just above his knee, where the wound had been, was a sight that made his stomach clench. The skin was swollen and red, an angry, festering mass. In the center, the gash had reopened, oozing thick, yellowish pus and streaks of dark blood. The area around it was inflamed, the skin hot and angry. It was infected, horribly so.
Magnus’s face was a thundercloud, his lips pressed into a thin, furious line. His voice, when he spoke, was low and dangerous, each word dripping with venom.
– You absolute, infuriating, reckless *idiot*! – he spat, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. – I *healed* you yesterday! I *warned* you! I specifically told you not to hide injuries from me, and what do you do? You go and get yourself infected with Seelie poison, after a *sacrifice*, no less, and then you try to hide it again?!
Alec struggled against the magical restraints, his face paling. – Magnus, I can explain—
– Explain?! – Magnus roared, his voice echoing in the room, making Alec flinch. – Explain what, Alexander?! Explain why you insist on being so unbelievably self-destructive?! Do you have any idea how dangerous Seelie poison is?! Do you have any idea what could have happened?! What *is* happening?!
– I didn’t think it was that bad! – Alec protested, his own anger beginning to flare, fueled by fear and humiliation. – I thought your healing would be enough! I had to do the sacrifice, Magnus, it was important!
– Important?! More important than your own life?! – Magnus shot back, his eyes flashing wildly. – You were practically limping again at dinner, you couldn’t even look me in the eye, and you thought I wouldn’t notice?! You thought you could just brush it off again?!
– I was going to tell you! – Alec insisted, though even to his own ears, it sounded weak. – Later!
– Later?! – Magnus scoffed, a bitter, humorless laugh escaping his lips. – When your leg was rotting off?! No, Alexander. This stops now.
Magnus knelt beside the bed, his face grim, his eyes still burning with fury. He raised his hands, and golden magic began to coalesce between them, but this time, it felt different. It wasn’t the gentle, soothing warmth of yesterday. This magic throbbed with a cold, sharp intensity, like a surgeon’s scalpel.
Alec’s eyes widened, a fresh wave of fear washing over him. He knew that look, that kind of magic. Magnus was going to heal him, but this wasn't going to be pleasant.
– Magnus, no, – Alec pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. – Please, don’t. Just… just heal it normally.
Magnus met his gaze, his eyes devoid of pity. – You want to know what happens when you disrespect my magic, my care, and your own well-being, Alexander? You’re about to find out.
He pressed his glowing hands against Alec’s infected thigh.
A searing, agonizing pain shot through Alec’s leg, a burning fire that felt like it was consuming him from the inside out. He cried out, a strangled sound torn from his throat, his body arching against the restraints. It wasn’t just the wound that burned; it felt like his entire leg was being set ablaze, every nerve ending screaming in protest.
– Magnus! Stop! – he begged, tears springing to his eyes, not just from the pain, but from the raw betrayal of it. – It hurts! Please, make it stop!
But Magnus was relentless. His face was a mask of grim determination, his magic flowing into Alec’s leg, not gently coaxing the infection out, but forcefully burning it away, cleansing it with a brutal, excruciating intensity. Alec could feel the poison being consumed, incinerated, but the process was agonizingly slow, each moment stretching into an eternity.
– This is what you get, Alexander, – Magnus said, his voice hard, unyielding, even as Alec thrashed and whimpered beneath him. – This is what happens when you treat your body with such disregard. This is what happens when you hide things from me.
Alec gasped, his breath coming in ragged, painful gulps. The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced, worse than any demon blade, any torture. It was a deep, pervasive agony that permeated his very bones.
– I’m sorry! I’m sorry! – he sobbed, his voice hoarse. – Please, Magnus, I promise, I won’t do it again! Just make it stop!
Magnus continued, his face set. He watched, unblinking, as the angry redness around the wound began to recede, as the pus and blood were consumed by the purifying fire of his magic. He saw the tears streaming down Alec’s face, heard his raw pleas, and a part of him, a small, aching part, wanted to relent. But the larger part, the furious, protective warlock, knew this was necessary. Alec needed to understand, truly understand, the consequences of his recklessness.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the wound began to close. The flesh knitted together, the skin smoothed, the infection burned away to nothing. The entire process felt like hours, though it was likely only minutes.
Finally, with a soft, final hiss of magic, the wound was gone. The skin on Alec’s thigh was once again smooth and unblemished, but his body was trembling, slick with sweat, and his eyes were wide with residual pain and shock.
Magnus released the magical restraints. Alec lay there, panting, his body shaking uncontrollably. He didn’t move, didn’t try to cover himself. He just stared at the ceiling, his eyes glazed with exhaustion and the lingering echoes of agony.
Magnus stood up, looking down at his husband, his anger still a cold stone in his gut, but now laced with a profound sadness. He had done what he had to do. But it had broken his heart to do it.
He retrieved a plush robe from the closet and gently draped it over Alec’s shaking form. Alec didn’t react, still lost in the aftermath of the pain.
Magnus sat on the edge of the bed, his hand hovering over Alec’s forehead, then gently stroked his hair. – You are going to be alright, Alexander, – he said, his voice softer now, but still firm. – But you will remember this. You will remember what it feels like to be so utterly reckless with your own life. Because I cannot lose you. I simply cannot.