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Magnus is aware he’s old. He’s aware he has more years under his belt than most, even more than his husband who’s nearing the halfway point of his third century. He’s aware of his age. Time and loss and the centuries of scars and battles will always remind him.
But he’s never felt older than he does right now. Because right now for the first time in his life, he’s about to earn the title of grandpa.
He’s pacing back and forth in their living room. Their Alicante loft, which will soon be moved back to Brooklyn when Magnus officially hands the reigns of High Warlock to Madzie at the years end, is stuffed to the brim with family. Six of their children and three romantic partners are scattered across the space biding their time with far less nerves than him as they await the arrival of their youngest sibling. Except for their middle child, Isadora, who’s flitting away in the kitchen with her wife no doubt using magic and her natural skill to cook up a meal fit for six dozen people.
“Baby,” Alec says from his spot on the couch stopping Magnus’ pacing. He looks at his husband, the picture of relaxation sitting comfortably on the couch with his legs stretched out in front of him and a soft smile on his lips like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He moves forward a bit holding out a hand in Magnus’ direction that he is powerless to resist.
Magnus allows himself to be dragged down on to the couch settling comfortably into Alec’s side as he’s pulled in closer.
“You okay?” Alec asks once Magnus has settled.
Magnus shrugs, “Just nervous I guess. We’re about to be grandparents.”
Alec hums in response, rubbing his hand up and down Magnus’ arm.
“We are,” he says. “We’ve been parents seven times though and I think they all turned out alright.”
Magnus shifts a bit to look Alec in the eyes and is about to speak about how this feels different when one of their children interrupts.
“Except me!” their second oldest, Felix, shouts out clearly listening in on his father’s conversation. Magnus and Alec turn in unison to look at their son whose skin looks an even brighter green than usual with the cheeky grin he’s sporting. He’s exactly like his dearly departed Uncle Jace, which is both a blessing and a curse most days.
They simply roll their eyes at him turning back to one another as he chuckles away before it’s cut off by his twin sister, Tulip, smacking him upside the head.
“Anyways,” Alec starts clearly tuning out the obvious sounds of their twins starting a wrestling match with one another. “As I was saying our children all turned out lovely.”
“It’s true,” Summer interjects from where she’s lounging in a chair sketching. “We’re pretty amazing.” She looks up at them with a smile, then turns back to her sketchbook. Their two remaining present children, Ragnor and Talia, nod enthusiastically in agreement with their big sister from where they sit at the table nearby playing cards with their respective husbands.
“And they’re all exceedingly humble,” Alec laughs reaching out to grab his husband’s hands as their children all go back to ignoring them.
“I know,” Magnus says with a soft smile. They’ve raised some incredible kids, all with the help of a village of ever supporting family. They’re all smart and capable and unique and changing the world for the better in their own little ways. But something about a grandchild feels different.
“How’s that?” Alec asks after Magnus says just that aloud. “This one we get to buy things and send home, way easier.”
Magnus chuckles, “True, but I don’t know there’s just something about a third generation you know.”
Alec nods urging Magnus to continue.
“I never thought I’d get married or have kids, and well, then you came along and even after all this,” he says gesturing to the room. “Sometimes I can’t believe it’s real and I guess I get nervous thinking about the third generation of Lightwood-Bane’s because the me of a few centuries ago couldn’t even imagine a second generation or a first.”
It’s a thing he’s been thinking about a lot lately. Ever since their youngest, August visited them one day after a double shift at the hospital in New York where he works alongside his Aunt Catarina. A young woman had come in, seven months pregnant with a desperate hope to give the baby up, and after hearing her story their son had figured out the woman was carrying a warlock child. With Catarina’s help he’d broken the news to her and the woman, who was barely 18, had begged for his assistance.
Magnus had been ready to help August place the woman somewhere safe where the child could then be taken in by another warlock, but August stopped him in his tracks declaring he wanted to take the child in himself.
Their baby boy, who’d never really had an interest in romance wanted to start his own family, a thing none of their other children had ever expressed an interest in. He looked so young when he said it, his aging stopping somewhere around 17 making him never seem old enough to do anything, but he’d looked more confident, more assured than ever before as well. He was ready for this step, ready to be the one to usher in the third generation of Lightwood-Bane’s.
“I also feel ridiculously old for the first time in my life,” Magnus tacks on as a little joke at the end. It’s a little true.
Alec nods thoughtfully with a teasing smile, clearly mulling his response over in his head as his thumbs rub small circles into Magnus’ hands.
“I get that,” he says after a little while, the sound of their children around the room bickering, wrestling and cooking filling the quiet. They’re all grown up now, Magnus and Alec once again used to the peaceful quiet of just the two of them, but the noise makes Magnus’ slowly descending nerves settle even more. “I never thought I’d have all this either, but we did good. We’re doing good and we’re going to keep doing good. When August steps in through a portal today with that little baby in his arms we’re going to get right into, all hands-on deck together just like we did when we brought home each of these little magical weirdos.”
Alec finishes on a bright smile gesturing his head around to each of their kids. Magnus smiles back, his nerves completely settling as he takes a deep breath.
“We did have the world’s greatest grandparents for our kids to model after too,” Magnus muses thinking fondly of Maryse and Luke.
Alec stays smiling, a little sadly, but purely fond thinking of his mother and father. “We gotta do them proud.”
Magnus leans in kissing his husband slowly, their hands still tightly clasped. Around him he hears a cacophony of groans and one distinctive fake vomiting sound that can only come from Felix. Suddenly he remembers why they like the quiet they’ve regrown accustomed to so much.
They pull back, rolling their eyes once again just as the life of a portal swishes into the room. The swirl with Catarina’s distinct magic clinging to it slams shut as August steps through dropping his glamour. He looks up at his fathers with a bright smile, the distinct yellow of his wolf-like eyes gleaming with unshed tears, the tracks of a few already shed running down the dark skin of his cheek.
Summer is the first to stand, all her siblings and their partners following suit as they gather behind the couch where Magnus and Alec sit waiting their turn to meet their niece.
Magnus and Alec finally take that as their cue to stand. Seemingly a little shell shocked despite their reassuring conversation mere seconds ago.
They step closer to their son as he shifts the bundle in his arms moving the blanket around to show a small little warlock girl with a full head of dark raven hair sleeping soundly.
“Would you like to hold your granddaughter?” August says still beaming, a smile on his face Magnus knows from experience won’t fade for a long time. He holds out the sleeping little girl to both of his father’s.
Alec runs a hands down Magnus’ back tilting his head at him with a knowing smile. Magnus steps forward taking her into his arms securely as Alec shifts up close to him, an arm around his waist. They both look down at her lovingly as she stretches a little her tiny hands grasping around nothing when suddenly an itty-bitty set of shimmery golden wings sprout out from beneath her blankets.
Soft gasps and little chuckles fall from behind them, their other children no doubt all pressed together watching the scene before them.
“First wings in the family,” Alec says with a laugh reaching out to run a finger along one of them. Instinctively the wing curls in around his finger almost protectively and from the corner of his eye he can see tears forming in his husbands own.
August reaches out brushing his fingers delicately along her forehead to brush her dark bangs from her eyes.
“Have you decided on a name?” Magnus asks not looking away from the serene little beauty in his arms.
“Yeah,” August says clearing his throat a bit. “Isabelle Maryse Lightwood-Bane.”
Alec lets out a sharp breath just as Magnus finally looks up from his granddaughter to see tears flowing from both his eyes and their sons. He feels a few of his own escape as well.
Magnus and Alec hadn’t gotten too sentimental with their children’s own names, save for Ragnor and Isadora’s middle name being Maia, but August has jumped right in it seems.
He had barely known Maryse. The youngest of their children August had been unexpected, an abandoned little boy they only planned on keeping for a few weeks seeing as they already had their own brood of six who were already in their teens or nearing so. But one thing had led to another and August had become theirs just as much as the other six. Maryse had passed while he was still so young, but he’d always marveled at the stories Alec would tell him about the strong formidable woman that was his grandmother. Isabelle however he’d known well, adoring his Aunt who spoiled him a little more than any of her other nieces and nephews all the way till her dying day at the striking age of 105.
It’s been centuries now since they both passed, the pain of the loss always lingering at the edges for them both but most especially for Alec who despite all his preparations for an immortal life carried the loss of his mother and baby sister a little heavier.
This little girl before them is their legacy. She’s a representation of their family long gone, a family she’ll never meet, but know every detail about because she carries their names. In a little way it makes the fact they’ve been gone for centuries feel less.
Alec pulls away from Magnus reaching out to grip August in a strong all-encompassing hug that he happily returns. Magnus watches fondly as August laughs a little breaking the heavy emotion surrounding them.
“The dark hair and the fact that the first thing she did after being delivered was kick Aunt Cat made the name choices seem easy,” he says as Alec pulls back, rubbing at his eyes. “Just as tough as her great aunt and great grandmother were.”
Alec lets out a watery chuckle rubbing at his eyes one more time as he claps August on the shoulder.
“It’s a perfect choice,” Magnus says looking back down at the little girl in his arms still impossibly sound asleep.
He holds her a few moments longer before passing her over to his husband who reverently whispers her name as she grips onto his finger. It’s a flurry of pass the baby after that, all of August’s siblings wanting their turn, except for Felix who immediately passes her over to Tulip.
“I’ll hang with her more when she can walk, promise,” he says when August gives him a death stare sibling look.
Eventually the little bundle wakes up from the amount of noise surrounding her and winds up back in Magnus’ arms as their kids all set the table for the sixteen-course meal Isadora has prepared.
“You know, you are named after two of the most incredible women this world has ever known,” he says looking down at her wide, dark eyes as she seemingly listens with rapt attention. “They would have been very proud to get the first shimmering wings in the family.”
He smiles as she lets out a little gurgling sound as if agreeing with the sentiment. Alec settles down onto the couch next to him then.
“How you doing, pretty boy?” Magnus asks as Alec settles an arm across his shoulders. Alec’s eyes finally look a little less teary.
“I’m good,” he says smiling down at little baby Isabelle. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry today and I have broken that promise five times, I will not do it a sixth.”
Magnus snorts at that, little Isabelle letting out a tiny gurgle as well.
Alec scoffs, “Look at that, already laughing at me just like her namesake.”
Magnus smiles leaning a little bit further into his husband as his other arm comes up around Isabelle as well. The sound of clattering dishes and bickering voices sounds behind them as he settles into the warmth of his still unbelievably real future with Alec at his side and his granddaughter in his arms.