Chapter Text
Alec
Alec let out a sigh as yet another fire message came flaming in through the window. Magnus, curled up with his head cushioned on Alec’s lap and Alec’s fingers running through his hair, let out a discontented sound as Alec caught it out of the air — the fourth in the last two hours. He’d turned off all three of his phones, ignoring the knowledge that he’d probably have several hundred notifications when he got back, but there was no stopping the endless, infuriating stream of fire messages.
To be fair, the two of them had returned from Edom only four days earlier, and had spent the first two days completely ignoring any attempts to contact them, hidden under Magnus’ wards. Alec, however, was not feeling particularly fair, because he and Magnus had gotten married thirty-six hours ago and were supposed to be on their honeymoon. Everyone else could leave them alone for a week.
Except, obviously, people couldn’t leave them alone, as evinced by the fire message that Alec caught out of the air. From Natalie Montclaire of the Paris Institute, offering platitudes about how glad she was that they’d returned from Edom unharmed, and could they spare the time to visit Paris sometime? Her Shadowhunters would love to greet them.
In other words, utterly banal, and could absolutely have waited for a week later, and Alec portalled it to a pile in his office to deal with later, along with the other messages he’d recieved. (Rationally, Alec recognized that she probably hadn’t realized that he was on his honeymoon and didn’t want to be disturbed, but again, he wasn’t in the mood for rationality.)
Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one. Everyone wanted something from them — to meet them, to discuss what had happened, to ask for advice, or orders, or to confirm that Lilith was really dead; nothing that they couldn’t ask literally anyone else, nothing that was particularly urgent — and sometimes Alec just wanted to scream at them that they could leave him alone for seven fucking days in a row.
As a matter of fact, he was fairly certain that the only reason he hadn’t sent a message to that effect was because he didn’t want to have to waste time sending off a series of fire messages, which would probably prompt replies or apologies, which would require acknowledgements, and then they’d never be able to catch a break.
“We should go somewhere they can’t bother us,” Magnus suggested, his thoughts clearly having followed the same path as Alec’s.
“Where, though?” Alec asked miserably. “I doubt the Seelie Queen would let us stay in her realm, and I’m not sure that going there would stop the fire messages.”
“We could go to Edom,” Magnus said, suddenly raising his head. “It’s empty. It’s a fully separate realm, not an adjacent one like the faerie realm, so fire messages won’t go through.”
Alec grinned.
Magnus
Edom was as green as he remembered it, Magnus thought, as Alec pulled him laughingly through the portal.
The sky was blue, the sun approaching the western horizon — evening, the same time that it’d been in their world. The ground beneath Magnus’ feet was already beginning to be dotted with red carnations and myrtle and amaranth, delphinium and crocus. He’d nearly forgotten about Alec’s propensity for accidentally growing flowers in Edom — it happened occasionally in their own realm, when Alec was particularly emotional, but in Edom, it reflected every change in mood. The carnations, myrtle, and amaranth were common ones, as far as Magnus had seen — meaning love, marriage, and immortality respectively. Delphinium and crocus for joy, levity, love.
The sun shone brightly down on the two of them, and Magnus pulled Alec into a kiss, unable or unwilling to resist the impulse. After all, why should he? They were married, after all — Lilith, Magnus could barely believe it even now — married for as long as they both shall live, which would be a good long time, thanks to the permanent Alliance rune on Magnus’ wrist. He wore the Wedded Union rune, too — one on his hand, applied during the ceremony, and one on his heart, applied when they returned to the loft and they were alone, in accordance with Nephilim tradition. A rune on the hand, a rune on the heart.
“We should build some sort of shelter, in case it rains,” Alec said. “I mean, will it rain?”
“It’s a world just like ours now, so I think so,” Magnus answered. “Just — empty of people. I don’t want to have to destroy any of the trees here to put a house, though.”
“I have an idea,” Alec said, reaching over to press his hand against the trunk of a tree. Magnus felt him draw on the white faerie magic that was so much stronger in this realm, and he saw the branches of the trees rustling, moving, undulating.
In a few moments, the movement stilled, and Magnus looked up into what looked like a treehouse, except made of the tree itself, branches twining together to form a floor, a roof. The tree looked easy to climb, too, branches extending from the trunk close enough to the ground that Magnus and Alec could easily climb up.
Which, of course, was precisely what they did.
Inside, the tree house was far more complex than Magnus had expected — it was really the size of a small cottage, and from here he could tell that several trees were helping to support it. Alec had summoned living arrangements, tables and chairs and a bed.
“This place is incredible,” Magnus breathed.
“I’m glad you like it,” Alec replied, and tugged Magnus into a kiss.
Alec
“You know,” Alec said, “this would be a good place to come if there’s some sort of crisis, if we need somewhere safe to go.”
Magnus hummed. “We could bring other people here, too, if it comes to that. Though I must say, let’s hold off on that for a while, I quite like having this all to ourselves.”
Alec didn’t bother to reply verbally, simply sending a thread of happy agreement back through the Alliance bond. He and Magnus were curled up in bed together, finally able to relax — and have sex — thanks to the blessed lack of fire messages. At peace, here, with Magnus, with his husband.
“I love you,” Magnus mumbled, and Alec felt his heart swell with an impossible affection.
“And I you. For as long as you’ll have me.”
Magnus turned his face up at that, lit by the morning sun, a smile adorning his face. Alec didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone, or anything, so beautiful. “Forever, then.”
Magnus
They spent some time exploring Edom, as well — as far as they could tell from scanning spells, the continents were all in the right places, and the wildlife was thriving. No demons in sight, the ley lines fueling the world’s magic as they did in their home dimension.
They’d also made an interesting discovery: Magnus could control the weather here. Something that he could do in their own realm, too, though not as powerfully — perhaps he could change the direction of a storm, but he wouldn’t be able to brew one up. Here, he’d accidentally created playful gusts of wind while teasing Alec, and the ocean (they’d portalled to the edge of what would be the Atlantic in their home world) had surged suddenly higher when Alec pulled him into a kiss. Its waves felt like a heartbeat here, to him. Perhaps it was his version of Alec’s flower thing — emotions showed in the elements.
(Alec enjoyed himself bugging Magnus to see what would happen. Magnus may or may not have “accidentally” soaked him to the skin and knocked him over with a wave. Alec, spluttering, immediately hurried forward to wrap Magnus in a soaking wet hug.)
Magnus didn’t think he’d ever been so happy.
Eventually, of course, they’d have to return, face the hundreds of fire and text messages that were surely awaiting them. Face the world again.
But even then, they’d have each other — if Magnus had anything to say about it, they’d
always
have each other, and he was starting to believe that Alec wanted that, too.