Hey y’all so for my 400 follower celebration @theredscrolls asked for Banecourt angst and it took me forever to finish this but here’s some uncalled for angst to celebrate! A little heads up: Its set during City of Lost Souls and it’s about what led to the page that shall not be named.
Magnus knew it was
physically impossible for a vampire to change with age but he had hoped that
somehow time would have run its course and made Camille a little bit softer, a
little less cynical or at least, a little less bitchy.
But even the
unrelenting ravaging of time had not been able to chip away at any of those
things about Camille and Magnus blamed himself for holding out hope even after
everything she had done to him.
“Cozy little place you have here.” Camille was eyeing his apartment
with the idle curiosity of a visitor at a museum who was only mildly interested
in what was around them. She was seated on one of Magnus’s sofa with all the
ease and grace of a highborn baroness and cut a striking figure in her little
red dress, all lithe limbs and alabaster skin. He noticed her eyes stop at the
coffee machine on the island a little longer and a knowing smile stretched
across her otherwise cold features and somehow managed to make her look even
“Yes small talk this, small talk that. Now can you please tell me why
you are here so we can get this over with?”
He felt bone tired as
he stood near the kitchen counter, his third coffee for the evening in his
hand. He had spent consecutive nights this week trying to discover a way to
find Jace and consecutive days trying to convince Alexander that he had fair
reasons behind everything he did. There had been an invisible barrier building
up between him and the shadowhunter for a while now and he was too afraid to
consider what it might result in. All in all, Camille could not have come at a
“Why Magnus it almost sounds like you are not happy to see me.”
Camille’s eyes flashed
mischievously and for a moment Magnus was reminded of an evening long ago in
the Sanctuary of the London Institute where the vampire and the warlock have
had their share of fun tormenting stuck up shadowhunters with idle flirting. But
that warlock had been young and naïve and easily distracted by shiny packages.
This one right here, right now, thought he knew better.
“Just get to it Camille.”
He sighed, leaning back against the counter and absentmindedly swirling what
little coffee was left in his mug.
“Very well then,” The
vampire smiled with a demented sort of glee like that of a cat about o knock a
glass off a table. “Your shadowhunter
boy, the blue eyed one, I have an inkling that he wants to murder you.”
It caught him like a
fucking blow to the chest.
But he was four
hundred years old and knew better. Knew better than to trust Camille. Knew
better than to show her vulnerability.
“Okay. Thank you for your concern,” He spared a bright smile that conveyed nothing. “If that’s all, the door’s that way.”
Camille stared at him
blankly for a moment and shook her head. “I’m
serious, Magnus.” She said, standing up and moving closer to him, the
expression on her face alarmingly honest.
But Magnus was not
going to be fooled. Not again.
“So am I.” He said, “I’m not going to trust someone who’s petty
and jealous and wants to see my relationship ruined.”
Camille sighed and
shrugged but did not move away from him; Instead she leaned back against the
counter next to him with a look of mild annoyance etched onto her features.
“Fine! Call me anything you want, call me all the names in the world
but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m telling the truth.”
“I’m not calling you names, I’m describing you.” Magnus offered with another amicable but
bland smile. “You have no proof; it’s
just the word of a woman who had lied to me before against the word of a man
who had never once lied to me ever.”
“A man who has had trouble dealing with the fact that one day his hair
will turn gray and his skin would wrinkle and he’d wither away but you’d remain
as young as ever.”
nonchalantly, without even sparing him a glance. And Magnus felt his heart
freeze for one long, unending second.
“Look, I agree, I’m jealous and petty but I have never wished you ill
Magnus.” Her voice was softer
this time; the usual edge of disdain having disappeared into thin air. “And see, I did have proof.”
silent, his eyes focused on the mug in his hand but not seeing it at all. It
felt as if someone was twisting a knife into his lungs. It was the worst news
and Camille being the one to bring it to him was just the Universe kicking him
when he was already down.
“How do you know?”
“He came to me.” She
didn’t sound like she was lying. “Your
pretty blue eyed boy, he wanted me to tell him a way to steal your immortality,
he couldn’t bear to see himself aging when you remained young forever.”
“But there is no such way.”
“I told him that much.”
There’s a hint of sympathy in her voice and Magnus recoiled inwardly at being
subjected to pity by Camille of all people. “He was desperate, honestly. Offered to make a deal with me for the
Camille shrugged. “Well you know me, I’m not above the
occasional lie. I offered to help him find a way if he took care of something
He’s almost too scared
to ask, but he wants to know all the same. “What?”
“I wanted him to kill Raphael for me.” Her voice didn’t waver or tremble. “And he agreed.”
The knife in his lungs
felt as if it had caught on fire. He desperately tried to spot the lie in her
story, but every aspect of it seemed to be perfectly true. If this was indeed a
lie, it was so finely crafted that even Magnus could not detect a hint of fraud
in it. Alec might be a soft and sincere boyfriend, but before that he was a
headstrong shadowhunter and a desperate human. There was no limit to the
lengths he might go to get what he wanted. It was a combination deadlier than
the Serpent and the Forbidden Fruit.
“I’m sorry.” She offered
without much feeling but there’s that softness to her voice again. He had known
that from ages long gone, when they were still lovers and they had lain on
smooth satin, in dark chambers whispering to each other of things he can no
longer care to remember. “I know how it feels to lose someone who
“Do you now?” He asked in
a sudden moment of uncontrollable spite. She had come storming into his life
again and ruined something perfect yet again. Some might call his anger and
bitterness misplaced but Magnus had all the reasons in the world to say it.
“Yes.” She had the nerve
to sound offended. “Yes I do, Magnus.
You are not the only person who has loved and lost. Don’t look down on me from
that pedestal you have put yourself on.”
“Oh if anyone in this room deserves a fucking pedestal it’s me
alright.” He scoffed with a
bitterness that seeped from his words like venom. “I have never broken a heart, I have never hurt anyone I have loved,
even after everything you did, I’m still here listening to you. So don’t talk
to me about looking down on you ‘cause I have every right to!”
“You are soft.” Camille
sighs but there’s no insult in her tone. “Even
after all these centuries your heart is still fresh and bloody and raw. I don’t
think it will ever freeze over completely, maybe it should but I don’t think it
ever will.” She turned to him, immersed in thought. “You are soft; Your Alexander is a shadowhunter. You and I both know
they don’t know how to deal with fragility. They will ruin it even if they
don’t mean to.”
Magnus swallowed against
the uneasy knot forming in his throats and turned his eyes to the floor. She
was right. He had seen this before countless times but he had hoped they could
“You deserve better,”
Camille smiled and stood on her tip toes to place a soft kiss on the corner of
his mouth. “Remember that, Magnus.
Remember your immortality is a part of you as much as mine is a part of me.” He
understood what she didn’t say and she knew that he did. But neither of them
found the need to confirm anything out loud. The silence ruled between them for
one eternal moment before Magnus nodded, his eyes glued to the stained glass
window in front of him.
Camille left. The sun
sank over the city line.
Is this Banecourt
angst? Or is it Malec angst? Who knows?
(Also sorry it took
approximately two millennia for me to get this done.)
Does anyone remember that YA book in which one character pretends to “write” on another character’s body to communicate? By tracing the letters of the words on the other person to form words? Like “are you okay” or “I love you”? What the hell is that from? It randomly came to my head and I can’t remember at all, is it Hunger Games??? Mortal Instruments???? When will my answers return from the war