Loving Husband

Farewell

Just to clear it up: Those are rounded ages, I just fixated them to this to give a bit of feeling of how old they are. So Alec could as well be 62 in this one. Important things don't naturally happen all in ten-year gaps.
And I am sorry for the confusion that Rafael and Raphael might cause in this chapter.
I don't know if anyone care's about what I just said.

Alec: 60
Max: 37
Rafael: 39
Raphael: 65 (well theoretically he would be like 150 but I mean if we just count his human years)

Rafael stood next to Max and his parents, looking at priest Raphael, the former vampire, holding the funeral eulogy. The graveyard was full, not only family, but also a lot of Shadowhunters and old friends of Maryse Lightwood were present.

He had gotten to know his grandmother only as a mundane, owning an antique bookshop. But he knew that before that she was a respected and fierce Shadowhunter. She had always kept her strong character. That had come in handy for her when it came to keeping him and Max apart in a childish argument.

He held the hand of Sophia, his six-year-old daughter was crying, already missing her great grandmother. Seraphina, his nine-year-old was standing next to her mother, tears streaming down her face as well. The Shadowhunter felt his eyes watering as well, Raphael's words evoked fond memories in him.

After the priest had ended his speech they all said their goodbye to Maryse. She was buried at a graveyard in New York, the same place Luke had been laid to rest a few years prior. He could have had a Shadowhunter burial in Idris, but had wished against it. And so they were together here now, the former Shadwohunter and former werewolf. 

As they made their way to the funeral feast Rafael saw some mundanes, looking at their group irritated. At first, he thought it was because they were all wearing white instead of black, the part that had remained traditional to honor Maryse's past as a Nephilim, but realized it wasn't that when he followed their gaze more precisely.

They were looking at his parents, holding hands while walking down the street. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened. His dad started looking old, far older than papa. Mundanes with no relation to the Shadowworld didn't understand that, they thought it was weird. One time a stranger had even asked Alec if he was Magnus' father.

To be fair Isabelle and Simon had also been in similar situations. Aunt Izzy still was beautiful and stunning, but since uncle Si didn't age since he was turned, their age difference in looks was great and once again, mundanes thought that was weird.

Rafael couldn't help but feel sad about it. He knew that his dad had accepted the fact that he was mortal and papa was immortal, but the Shadowhunter thought that it must still hurt. He would certainly dislike it if someone told him he could be Katherine's father. Not that that would happen, they were only two years apart.

"Raphael's speech was beautiful and so true to her character," Max appeared next to him. His brother was shorter than him and because he was a warlock he looked about a decade younger when in reality, they were barely two years apart.

The Shadowhunter nodded "Yes, it really was," he agreed, still having his eyes and thoughts on their parents. Or rather how funny it was going to look when he was seventy or something and Max still looked like twenty-five, as well as papa, the two of them never even aging a day while time left its mark on him and dad.

"What are you thinking about?" his brother interrupted his thoughts yet again. Even in sorrow, his voice was filled with energy and vitality.

"Mortality," he gave the simple but true answer, shifting his gaze away from his parents to his brother. To him, Max looked older when he was glamoured. He couldn't say why, maybe it was the blue skin, but whatever it was, it just was, in Rafael's eyes.

"Funerals tend to make you think about life and death," Max replied, sounding more serious than the Shadowhunter was used to from his brother. Rafael regarded him for a second before thinking about what to answer. He felt that a deep conversation was coming.

But it didn't, Max's expression changed to a smile "But I feel like it also shows you how important it is to make your life count, to leave the people around you with positive and fond memories. To be able to say that the life you lived was worth it."

Rafael had to agree with his brother on that. He had become a Shadowhunter to help change things for the better. Step into his dad's footsteps so to speak. As of right now, the position he had wasn't one of high standing, but keeping the institute secure was important. And he regularly helped the security team in Idris to improve their system. He had got a job offer from them once, but as long as his children were small he didn't plan on leaving Canberra.

He wasn't popular for his doings, only people who had something to do with security recognized his name on its own. But he didn't mind. He knew that what he contributed to the Nephilim was appreciated and helping the Shadowworld. The name Rafael Lightwood-Bane caught attention not because he himself was well known, but because his parents were popular for reforming the clave and improved relations between the Downworld and the Shadowhunters.

Max, however, hadn't done anything particular to contribute to the Shadowworld or the greater good yet. He traveled around and experienced the wonders of their dimension, meeting Downworlders and Shadowhunters all over the world. In a way, Rafael could see the appeal, even if it wouldn't be something for him. It was hard to wrap his head around it, but his little brother had an eternity to give the world something back. Why not spend a hundred years enjoying your life when you were immortal?

Rafael had come along with him to Bern once. The head of the institute there was old fashioned and reluctant to let a Downworlder stay in the 'sacret place'. She hadn't refused, of course, that would have violated the revised accords, but she hadn't been really hospitable. Until Max had told her, rather smugly that his last name was Lightwood-Bane.

In other circumstances, the Shadowhunter would have argued with his brother how he shouldn't name drop like that, but the woman had deserved it if he was honest. She had almost fell over herself to make them feel welcome after that. Rafael had felt just a little bit bad about it when he had reported to the clave that the head of the Bern institute was showing a discriminating attitude.

They reached the institute, were the funeral feast was held. Rafael had been invited to Shadowhunter, Downworlder and mundane farewells, they all had their different ways of honoring the deceased. Luke Garoways had been a mix of Werewolf and Nephilim customs.

Rafael couldn't remember a time were the Shadowworld wasn't so entwined in each other. Well, he had been a child when things had started to change. Not to mention that his surroundings had always been tolerant and diverse. He had been sheltered from the disagreeing Shadowhunters, not noticing how many of them had actually fought against laws that would be more accepting of Downworlders.

And nowadays Shadowhunters who were intolerant were deprecated rather than encouraged and accepted by society. He wondered how things would have been if there hadn't been people like his parents. Would he have maybe one day fought Max, the little brother he would die for?

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