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Magnus stood in the bathroom as steam swirled around him, daring himself to look in the mirror before it fogged up. He knew what he would see.
The ritual had been exhaustive and particular - requiring that he cleanse any residual spells off himself before he’d gotten to work, draining his magic to absolute exhaustion to save the child’s life.
His glamor was gone - it would be a few days before he had enough strength to cast another one and even longer still before he had the energy - and the magic - to brew the potion that he used to cover the one mark on his body he was most ashamed about.
He heard the bathroom door open and Alec stepped up behind him, calling his name quietly. He should ask Alec to leave. He wasn’t in any mood for pretenses or visitors but he was just so tired.
Maybe Alec wouldn’t notice behind all the steam that filled the bathroom.
“How did the ritual go?” The Shadowhunter asked as he shed his own clothes and stepped up behind Magnus. The warlock closed his eyes and leaned his head back against Alec’s chest.
“The child will live another day...and her mother got a lecture about summoning random demons without doing the appropriate amount of research.” He’d wanted to give her much more than that but time was of the essence. He’d just make sure to keep an eye on them in the future and, if it became necessary, take the child under his wing.
“They were lucky you were close enough to help,” Alec replied, running his hands over his husband's tired muscles to assess the real damage. He knew better than anyone where Magnus carried his stress and exhaustion.
Magnus hummed in agreement as Alec’s thumbs dug into the back of his shoulders - working out knots for a moment before proceeding with his once over. His hands brushed over scars from the warlock’s long life - ones they’d talked about early on in their relationship - before moving down towards Magnus’ hip.
Magnus froze - his body going taut as Alec’s gentle fingers brushed across familiar ridges. His jolt didn’t go unnoticed. He could feel the Shadowhunter frown behind him, his arms pulling his husband closer instinctively.
“Not that one,” he whispered, trying to keep the sob out of his voice. “Just...not that one, please.”
The tone of his voice must have worried Alec. There was a pause before Alec was gently turning him around - a look of concern in his face. “Magnus, what is it?” He watched the Shadowhunter’s eyes search his face while they tried not to gaze lower.
“I -” He started before shutting his mouth with an audible click.
He didn’t want to tell Alec.
But he should tell Alec.
How do you explain what happened that day to someone that you loved?
“I don’t think you’ll like what you’re going to find,” he finally said.
“Magnus, no scar will make me love you less. I just haven’t noticed this one before.” He could hear the absolute devotion in Alec’s voice and it made his heart hurt.
“There’s a reason,” he muttered, glancing down towards the mark on his hip. “There’s a story that goes with it though...and I really don’t think you’re going to want to hear about it.”
Alec knew that there was only one thing that could elicit that sort of trepidation from Magnus. “My parents? And the Circle?”
The warlock nodded, “A little bit - mostly the Uprising. Your parents...they’re mostly guilty by association in this particular matter.” Truthfully, he wasn’t sure that Maryse and Robert were even aware.
“Tell me? Show me? Please?” Alec’s voice was gentle. He was asking for permission - something Magnus was grateful for. There were parts of his past that he didn’t want to think about, not just yet. Alec never took what wasn’t offered. He knew lesser people would.
“You’re going to be unhappy.”
“I’ll never be unhappy with you.”
He could say no. The matter would drop. He’d take his shower, a nap, and then have dinner and Alec would be by his side through all of it. They didn’t have to do this.
They didn’t have to do this now, he corrected.
“Alright,” Magnus sighed, moving his hand to give the Shadowhunter an unobstructed view of the mark burned into his hip.
Alec’s fingers trailed gently over the ridges, his face going white with stark realization. “That’s the Lightwood crest.”
“It is,” he confirmed.
“Magnus - why?” Magnus knew that much of Alec’s life had been spent trying to make up for his parents’ actions. He didn’t want this to be another one of those things.
He could say anything but Alec deserved the truth. “I was captured during the Uprising. They could have killed us...they did kill a lot of Downworlders but they had a different plan for us.” He laughed uncomfortably, remembering that day all too well. “We were going to be a reward. To the Victors go the spoils. They stripped us...bound our magic and branded us with who we were intended to be sent to.”
“You were going to my parents,” Alec’s voice was angry and Magnus could only lean his head against the Shadowhunter’s bare chest and nod.
“I was lucky. We escaped. We never made it to our destination. Your parents never got their hands on me but yet, here I am, left bearing their mark.” He huffed as another stray thought crossed his mind. “I guess my body and soul did end up belonging to the Lightwoods in a way.” The Magnus Bane that had been branded with the Lightwood crest never would have imagined that he would have fallen in love with Maryse and Robert’s eldest son.
Alec’s hands gently tipped Magnus’ chin up so the warlock was looking up with un-glamored eyes. “Magnus, you don’t belong to my parents and you certainly don’t belong to me.” He planted a gentle kiss on Magnus’ forehead and pulled him close. “If anything, I think it’s the other way around. I belong to you.”
Maybe, just maybe , Magnus was okay with that.