Chapter Text
Alexander Gideon Lightwood was born at 4:07 in the morning on September 12th, 1994. His mother, Maryse Lightwood, held him close to her chest, admiring his sleeping face, her finger held tightly in his tiny fist. Her husband, Robert, stood close by, sneering down at the infant.
“It looks like him, ” He spat venomously.
“Mmm,” Maryse hummed noncommittally. “he doesn’t have the horns.”
“Maryse,” Robert seethed. “how can you accept this? You gave birth to a monster! A demon-blooded creature!”
“It was Valentine’s will!” Maryse snapped quietly, trying not to wake her baby. “He is the one who took Ragnor Fell’s DNA and created this child with it.”
Robert shook his head, still seething. “Are we expected to raise it?” He jerked his chin towards the sleeping baby.
“As if he were yours,” Maryse confirmed.
“But he isn’t,” Robert denied. “Does the Warlock even know?”
“Valentine says that he has a plan for that.” The baby squirmed in her arms, grunting and whining. Maryse pulled him closer and shushed him. ‘It’s alright, darling. You’re alright. Mommy and daddy are just talking,”
“Don’t call me that,” Robert snapped, not as mindful of the baby as Maryse. Alexander began to cry in earnest. “I am not that thing's father, and I never will be.”
He stormed out, leaving his wife with her crying infant that was fathered by a filthy Warlock.
***
Maryse and Valentine approached the Shadowhunter Academy, Alec – as Maryse had begun calling him – was cradled in her arms. They marched through the Academy to Ragnor Fell’s office, Valentine’s seraph blade at the ready.
They didn’t knock, Valentine just threw the door open. Ragnor sat up from where he’d been hunched over his desk, writing something down. He quickly stood up when he saw who his impromptu visitors were, eyes going hard.
“Mr. Fell,” Valentine said in a faux-cheery voice. “how lovely to see you.”
“Mr. Morgenstern,” Ragnor growled. “Mrs. Lightwood.”
“Hello, Ragnor,” Maryse said politely.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ragnor asked coldly.
“Well, we thought you would like to meet your son,” Valentine gestured to the day-old infant. “Alexander.”
Ragnor tensed. “Warlocks are infertile. What exactly are you trying to pull, here?”
“Infertile, yes. But with a little DNA, science can do wonders.” Valentine told him. “Go on, use your magic. See the truth.”
He stepped aside, gesturing toward the baby in Maryse’s arms.
Ragnor looked between the two of them distrustfully but waved a hand in Alec’s direction, magic flowing from his fingertips. It gently enveloped the baby, glowing brightly. When it faded, Ragnor looked shell-shocked.
“What are you going to do with him?” He looked for all the world like he was only seconds away from snatching the child from Maryse and portaling away.
Valentine smirked, knowing he had the warlock exactly where he wanted him.
“I haven’t quite decided yet.” He flipped his seraph blade in his hand, nonchalantly. “A half-warlock, half-Shadowhunter would be a fun experiment, don’t you think?”
Ragnor looked at the baby desperately. “Please, just give him to me. I’ll take care of him. Don’t hurt him.”
Valentine sighed like the decision was all too much for him. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Maryse,” Ragnor pleaded. “Are you his mother?”
She nodded stiffly. “I am,”
“You must have some affection toward him,” He was grasping for straws. “if you do, you know the right decision is to give him to me where he will be safe.”
Maryse gripped the baby tighter against her chest making him squirm and whine in protest. His little eyes opened and Ragnor caught a glimpse of his Warlock mark. It was beautiful. Green eyes the same shade as Ragnor’s skin.
“Maryse,” Ragnor pressed.
“He’s safe with me,” She told him, not sounding sure of herself.
“Right within reach of the man who wants to experiment on him.” Ragnor accused. “Right within reach of the man who has slaughtered his kind.”
“We’re done here, Warlock,” Valentine put a stop to the conversation. “Just thought you might like to know you’re a father.”
He held the door open for Maryse. “After you,” he told her. She walked out of the office with Alec and Valentine approached Ragnor, seraph blade held aloft. “One wrong move from you, and I use this blade to slit your son’s throat. If you truly love the creature, you’ll keep your distance.”
With that, Valentine left.
***
After learning of his son’s existence, Ragnor didn’t hear directly from Maryse until Alexander was three. He had received pictures of his little boy that he’d framed and put in places of honor within his home. He would pour himself some whiskey and sit beside the framed photos of his baby smiling, beautiful green eyes shining, and ponder what life might have been like had Maryse handed the child over when he had asked.
Instead, he was portaling to the New York Institute to meet his three-year-old and his mother in the Head of the Institute’s office. He was escorted there by two heavily armed Shadowhunters, whom Maryse dismissed immediately.
“Alec, sweetheart,” Maryse knelt next to their son. “this is Ragnor. Can you say ‘hello’?”
Ragnor’s heart fluttered in his chest as his son’s eyes fixated on him and he smiled. “Hello, Ragnor. My name is Alexander. It is very nice to meet you.”
He recited the words like a script, but his tone made it clear that he was actually pleased to meet him.
Ragnor took a step forward and knelt before the little boy. “Hello, Alec.” His throat contracted as he willed himself not to cry. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to meet you.”
Alec’s eyes widened. “Like a whole day?” He asked, sounding impressed. Of course, the child would think that was a long time.
Ragnor laughed. “A bit longer than that, dear one.”
“Whoa,” Alec looked up at his mother. Her returning smile was strained.
“Darling, why don’t you go color over there while Ragnor and I talk for a moment?” Maryse gestured to the coffee table littered with paper and crayons.
Alec huffed. “I never get to hear the cool stuff.”
Maryse smiled placatingly while Ragnor snorted. “Trust me, dear one, whatever it is it’s definitely boring.”
Alec seemed to take Ragnor’s word for it and he went to color at the table as Maryse took Ragnor by the arm and gently pulled him to stand by the curtained windows.
“I need your help to keep him safe here,” Maryse whispered. “Having him in the Lightwood Manor was one thing, but Robert and I have been assigned here, now. His eyes, they aren’t subtle. Someone is going to figure it out sooner or later. Can you glamour them?”
Ragnor frowned. “You told me three years ago that you were capable of keeping him safe, now you come to me asking for help to do the one thing that you claimed you could do on your own? He isn’t safe here, Maryse, whether or not I put the glamour on his eyes. What happens when he’s old enough to learn to fight with angelic weapons or get runes? He won’t be able to do those things. It will be obvious that he is different. Let me take him home with me. Let me raise him among his own kind.”
“No,” Maryse shook her head. “He’s my son, too and I want him with me.”
“Robert accepts him? He treats him well?” Ragnor asked. “He hasn’t asked you to send him away with me?”
Maryse couldn’t meet his eye. “That’s none of your concern.” She hissed.
“The hell it isn’t!” Ragnor whisper shouted. “That’s my son. If your husband is mistreating my child due to his heritage, his species, that is very much my concern.”
“You taking him from me is not an option, Ragnor,” Maryse said sternly. “Either help me protect him by glamouring him and finding a way to make his life here as normal as possible, or you can leave, and I’ll find another Warlock to protect him.”
Ragnor couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let another Warlock near his son, he couldn’t trust anyone to take care of Alexander the way that he would. That was his child, his responsibility. He would take care of him as much as Maryse Lightwood would let him.
He couldn’t say that taking Alexander hadn’t crossed his mind, but the Shadowhunters would find him eventually. Ragnor wasn’t a fighter. He was a teacher, a mentor, but if it came down to it taking Alexander without express permission would get him killed. How would he protect his son then?
No, he needed to wait. Ragnor just needed to believe that one day, when Alexander is old enough, that he would come to Ragnor for help.
“Alexander, my dear boy.” Ragnor rounded the desk and sat on the couch near where his son was kneeling on the floor. “Could you come here for a moment?” He patted the cushion beside him.
Alec scrambled up to sit beside him, looking at him expectantly. Ragnor reached out and very gently gripped Alec’s chin holding him in place, very conscious of the fact that he was touching his son for the first time.
“Just stay still for a moment, dear one.” He waved a hand in front of Alec’s eyes, weaving a glamour that only he could remove.
After a moment, Alec’s beautiful green eyes disappeared, and in their place were eyes identical to Ragnor’s. One last cheap shot at Maryse and her horrible husband.
“There you go, darling.” Ragnor ruffled his black hair. He stood up and moved to stand before Maryse. “He ever needs anything, you call me , understand?”
Maryse nodded stiffly.
Ragnor turned. “Goodbye, Alexander.” He knelt before him again and took his hands, waving one above both of his son’s. In the child’s cupped hands, an amulet appeared. Ragnor picked it up and draped it around the child’s neck. “You need never be afraid, child. This will protect you.”
Alexander looked up at the Warlock, eyes wide and innocent. He leaned forward and wrapped his little arms around his father’s neck in a brief hug. He pulled back and smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Ragnor,” he said earnestly.
“You are quite welcome, dear one.” Ragnor looked at Alec for a long moment, committing his face to memory before he turned to leave, Maryse stopping him only to hand him a large envelope.
***
Ragnor was called to the New York Institute fairly consistently after the first time he met his son properly. He never ran into Robert Lightwood which was good for the Shadowhunter as Ragnor was certain that he’d kill the man on sight after what he’s done to his son over the years.
Alexander was seventeen now, and he believed that he was a Shadowhunter. He had no idea that Robert Lightwood wasn’t his father, but he didn’t understand why the man hated him so much and demanded that he call him by his first name when Isabelle, Jace, and Max were all welcome to call him ‘dad’.
Ragnor wished, desperately, that he was allowed to swoop in and soothe his child’s broken heart and explain that there wasn’t a single thing wrong with him. Not his species, his worth, nor his sexuality. Alexander thought that he was hiding it well, but Maryse, Ragnor, and if Ragnor wasn’t mistaken, Isabelle all knew better.
"You mustn’t take what that man says to heart,” Ragnor told the teenager gently. “He’s a very angry person, very miserable. He takes it out on you and that is despicable.”
Alec watched as Ragnor stitched the skin on his shoulder back together with magic. Robert had lashed out at him again, this time holding a seraph blade when the rage had become too much for him to bear.
“I don’t understand what I did wrong,” Alec admitted quietly.
Ragnor shook his head, finishing healing him. “You’ve done nothing wrong, dear one.” He promised the boy. “Robert Lightwood has had to cope with things that – things that I’m sure he never imagined for himself. You haven’t caused any of it. Nothing he says or does is on you, Alexander.”
“It feels like it,” Alec muttered bitterly. “It feels personal.”
Ragnor sighed. “One day, in the near future, you’ll come to understand everything that has come to pass.” He patted his son’s knee. “I know that everything has been terribly confusing and you’ve been presented with more questions than answers, but I am not at liberty to tell you anything more than I have at present.”
“Why?” Alec asked curiously. “Why aren’t you allowed to tell me things? Why aren’t you allowed to tell me why you showed up one day and suddenly you’re around all the time but only for me? You don’t heal Izzy or Jace when they’re hurt. Only me. You’re the only Warlock that’s ever been allowed to a Rune Ceremony. You went to mine and then never went to another one. You were there when I picked my weapon. You were there when Jace and I became Parabatai. Ragnor, I’m so confused. What is so wrong with me that they had to call you in to watch me?”
Ragnor took Alec by the shoulders and forced him to look him in the eyes. “There isn’t a single thing wrong with you, Alexander. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. One day, you will understand.
One day, Alec would come looking for answers again. He would be an adult by then. Ragnor would tell him everything. Lightwoods and Valentine be damned.