Hey dearies! Ready for some bonding over the silly soul bond?

PREVIOUSLY ON ASAF: Loki appeared in the doorway, and stopped. Arms crossed, he lifted an eyebrow and said: "You called?"

Tony was pretty sure his eyebrows were becoming one with his hairline. "What? No I didn't! I didn't say anything. I mean, sure, I was about to tell J.A.R.V.I.S. to tell you to come down, but I never got around to— Wait a sec! Don't tell me you read my thoughts or something!"

CHAPTER 13

Loki snorted. "Of course not. I'm certain… Well, almost certain that such a thing is impossible, even between soulmates. I can feel your emotions, and your presence. It was your presence that pulsed and called to me."

"Huh." So they could send each other some sort of pulse, like a location flare, to send some sort of message. That could be interesting – freaky, but interesting. If they could learn to control it, they could theoretically use it for communicating, like Morse or something. Tony concentrated on Loki's presence, his location, that shone like a bright light in his mind and where Loki stood, with between that light and Tony's Arc reactor – or his heart, most likely – a glimmering little thread. He didn't know how he had 'called' before, but now he imagined tugging on that little thread. Loki's breath hitched.

"Cease that! I'm already here!"

"Can you do it too?"

It would be pretty cool if they could use this like some sort of telegraph. Secret messages couldn't get more secret than this! Loki had closed his eyes, and his eyebrows had started to furrow. The second-hand annoyance was started to increase exponentially, and still Tony didn't feel anything he would name a 'call'. He did his best to keep his face neutral and not to start cackling with glee; he, Tony Stark, puny little mortal who didn't know anything about magic, could use this soul bond thing better than Loki, wizard extraordinaire.

Loki's eyes snapped open. "Yes, very amusing! You managed to find out how to call out to me, and I don't know yet how to reciprocate. It isn't as if you just found out about it by pure luck either; noooo, you're just a soul bond genius, aren't you? With your loud, loud emotions and your too bright presence and the many mind impressions that you constantly send along the bond. It's not just a case of you not knowing how to protect your mind and muffle the bond, no! Of course not!"

Anger was licking at Tony's mind, a sparkling green-blue fire that only increased the more Loki glared at him, tempting him to reciprocate the feeling. Geez, the guy had a quick temper, and he was fucking sensitive besides! No need to get all prissy because he didn't get the presence call thing on the first try! Tony's irritation only seemed to fuel Loki's anger, and the foreign blaze was blindingly hot in his mind's eye.

"There," Loki said in a frigid voice, "now I'm not protecting my mind either. How do you like that? Not too distracting I hope?"

"Okay! Okay, I got it Mr Spock! I'm shit at occlumency and you hate that! Well, sorry, I'm only human, and we're usually not bothered by all the voodoo, so mind protection isn't in the curriculum. Can you fucking shut your side of the bond off now?" After a few seconds, Loki's emotions diminished in intensity; they even quietened more than they ever had before, or so it seemed to Tony. Even Loki's presence dimmed to a dim flickering glow. Tony suddenly, irrationally, felt bereft all of a sudden. "Er, okay. Now it feels like you're hiding. You don't need to go that far. It's almost like you're gone, it's weird. And a bit uncomfortable."

Loki's laughter was clear and loud, echoing in the huge room, while amusement – amusement at a normal 'loudness', thank God – rippled along the bond. His soulmate's face had completely transformed, and the first word that came to Tony's mind was 'ethereal'. As in otherworldly, divine kind of 'ethereal'. Yep, Tony totally saw how those poor Vikings had been fooled into thinking these aliens were gods.

"Let's make a deal," Loki said when he had calmed down. "I'll teach you how to protect your mind – luckily for you, I'm a great Occlumens." Tony gasped; had J.A.R.V.I.S. really let Loki read Harry Potter first thing? He'd have thought they'd start with some classic literature or something. "And you tell me how you call out to me, or how you send those strange impressions of yours."

"What impressions?"

Loki sighed and walked over to the table, and sat down at the head of it. "It's difficult to explain; they are not thoughts per say, just ideas, usually linked with some emotion, and some physical urge. For instance, at the end of… brunch, you were standing behind me, and I got the irrational urge to slap my hand over my face. And even if I had never done such a silly thing before, I got a feeling it was called a 'face-palm'. And then I'm pretty certain you hit yourself in the face. The impression only lasted a fraction of an instant, but it definitely came from you. Again, in the afternoon, I got the sudden inclination to go hit a wall – which I had no reason to want – or I felt like I was freefalling, then soaring up into the sky in short succession. Impressions. I don't know how you do it, and I doubt you knew you were sending them, if your face and your current emotions are anything to go by, but if you manage to control it, I would like you to tell me how you do it. Do we have a deal?"

Tony blinked, repeatedly. "Uh, yeah, deal." So it wasn't like reading thoughts, but it almost was. This fucking soulmate thing had no room for any fucking privacy! He had to learn the occlumency shit soon – at least he wouldn't be broadcasting every damn feeling he had! Obviously, you couldn't keep any secrets from your soulmate; you couldn't lie, and even the best poker face wouldn't hide what you really felt inside. But muting it to the maximum was something he needed to learn like, yesterday. "Alright, let's eat while I explain the Morse code. You haven't eaten yet, right?"

"No, I haven't."

"Great! Stay right there, then." Tony walked back to the glasses and cutlery and brought them to the table. He took a plate from the cupboard where he had spotted some before, and dumped the contents of the already hot – well, hot-ish – box, and the tagliatelle almost overflowed. He brought it to Loki with the water bottle. His own spot on Loki's left had already a glass and cutlery installed, courtesy of his soulmate. "No water, please", he said while he walked back to the microwave. He took the warm spaghetti Bolognese out and put it on a plate. He then dove back in the fridge for the unopened bottle of coke, and his eyes caught the slices of whatever cheese that was. He didn't see any in shredded form, so that would have to do. With the bottle under his arm, his plate and the cheese, he walked to his seat and sat down.

"What is this 'Morse' code you mentioned?"

Tony sent him a flat stare. "Can I at least get something in my stomach first? Your thirst for knowledge might be stronger than your hunger, but me, I'm just some poor rich mortal genius that needs some nutrients from time to time. So if you don't mind?"

He opened the bottle of coke with a jerk, and the angry hiss of the new bottle made Loki flinch slightly in surprise, which Tony found quite satisfying. After he had filled his glass with the carbonated brown-black liquid under the alien's curious gaze, he took a slice of cheese out of the package and started ripping it to pieces in lieu of shredded cheese, then stirred it into his spaghetti when he decided it was enough. Tony had only been able to enjoy three bites of his food when Loki, who had been toying with his tagliatelle more than he was eating them, spoke again.

"Well?"

Tony noisily put down his fork. "To put it simply, it's a way to send a message using combinations of short and long sounds, or lights, to signify letters. It was originally used for the first long-distance communication system, the telegraph, more than one hundred and fifty years ago. Nowadays its sometimes used in the military, or emergency situations when other communications don't work. Most people only know the code for SOS."

"SOS?"

"Well, the letters were originally chosen because the code was easily recognisable – three dots for the S and three dashes for the O – but people gave it a meaning afterwards. It could be 'Save Our Ship', because Morse was often the only communication method that boats had, or it could be 'Send Out Succour', or my favourite at the moment, 'Save Our Souls'. How about I try sending you an SOS?"

Loki didn't say anything, so Tony took a forkful of his spaghetti, and concentrated on the brightly shining presence and the attached thread. He imagined tugging on the thread, three quick jerks, three slower ones, and again three quick ones. Loki cleared his throat and frowned slightly.

"That is not a very nice sensation. As if someone is trying to pull… me out of myself."

"That's probably because I'm tugging on the kind of thread that links your shiny presence thing to me."

"Shiny… presence… thing," Loki articulated haltingly, as if he couldn't believe Tony's stupidity. How was he supposed to know what the fuck it was, or how the hell it was called? The arsehole didn't have to act so condescendingly. "That is my soul. And the 'thread' is our bond." Oh. Ooooh. Okay. Yeah, Tony could have drawn that conclusion on his own if he'd just thought about it. He was stupid. Loki one; Tony zero.

All of a sudden, Tony felt like someone grabbed his heart and tried to yank it out of his chest and towards Loki. His lungs stopped moving, and he wondered if his heart was still beating while his torso wrenched forward and hit the side of the table as if trying to follow the pulling. Then the force let go and it was as if whatever had been pulled outward slammed back in place, sending him reeling backwards against the back of his chair.

"Holy fucking hell!" Tony squeaked when he could breathe again. "You trying to kill me or what?"

"I might have pulled a bit hard. Still, you understand that the experience is quite disagreeable."

"Disagreeable? That's the fucking understatement of the century! Geez, you've got the subtlety of a bull in a china shop!" Tony wanted to hold onto that thread with both imaginary hands and pull as hard as he fucking could, but he thought better of it; revenge would only worsen the situation. Tony would show some maturity for once – he could pat himself on the back for it later. He sighed loudly to get rid of the bulk of his frustration, and considered the thread. With imaginary fingers, he plucked it like he would the string of a guitar. Dot dash dash dash, dot, dot dash dot, dash dot dash. JERK. There, now he felt better. "And now, still as horrible?"

"No, that was surprisingly all right. How did you do it?"

"Played the thread like a guitar." At Loki's obvious lack of understanding, he added, "Like a string instrument."

Tony went back to his already half cold food, wolfing it down before he got interrupted again. He felt little twitches near his heart, like dots and dashes, and when he understood, Tony stopped mid-chew. The arsehole had replayed his own message back to him. The smug bastard might not understand the exact meaning, but he got a feeling Loki knew it was an insult anyway. He did his best not to show how much it riled him up, but if the smugness rolling off of Loki in ways was anything to go by, he hadn't managed it well at all; he better learn that occlumency real quick.

When Tony took a swig of his coke, Loki, who had been nipping his own food as if it was quite disgusting but he ate just to humour him, plunged his fork in Tony's spaghetti, twirled it like a pro and put in is his mouth. A provocative tongue wrapped itself around the fork, the utensil slid out slowly, and Tony did his best not to choke on his mouthful of coke. For some unknown reason he couldn't look away.

Loki munched thoughtfully and asked: "What is that? It is better than whatever I have."

Tony gently put down his glass and cleared his throat awkwardly; his mind had gone some place forbidden just for a second. "The pasta is spaghetti, and the sauce is Bolognese. Your pasta is tagliatelle, and the sauce carbonara."

"Yours is better," Loki said. Which was something he had already said, and Tony felt he was repeating it for a reason. He concentrated on the emotions in the back of his mind, and he found a spark of hopefulness there. Oh, no! Hell no! He wasn't going to give his spaghetti away! He wasn't! What was that look? Was the guy trying some sort of pitiful-hopeful look here? Uh-uh, that was going to work on Tony. No way! Fuck. The feelings in his mind had just increased tenfold – he was broadcasting them on purpose now, the little shit! He. Was. Not. Going. To—

"All right! I get it! You can stop now. Here!" Tony pushed his still half-full plate towards his traitorous manipulating bastard of a soulmate. Fuck! He had fallen for it, and he was sure that, now that it had worked once, Loki was going to use it against him whenever he wanted something. All Tony could do was hope he'd build a resistance against it after a while. And try the same thing on Loki as well when he wanted something, of course.

Well, at least Tony got an almost full plate of carbonara. He took two slices of cheese out of the package again and crumbled them over his food, and started eating. Really, he didn't mind carbonara – sure, he preferred Bolognese, but this was good too, so who gave a shit. He could let the whole food swapping thing slide. That was, until Loki took Tony's half-empty glass of coke and sipped some.

"Can't you use your own bloody glass?"

"I didn't want to besmirch my own glass with something I might not like."

"Too bad, Little Prince. This isn't your fucking planet, so we're doing thing the polite and human way: you've got your own glass, use it. That's what it's for." Tony wrenched his glass out of those stupidly long and frigging manicured fingers, and his skin tingled where they'd touched. He hoped it was some magic-soul-thing reaction, and not some idiotic subconscious emotions or something, because he didn't want to fucking tingle whenever they happened to unwittingly touch.

Tony got another two bites in when Loki spoke up again. "To mask your part of the bond, you need to find the place in your mind where you can feel my emotions, and create a bubble around it; that is where the doorway of the mind bond is, and even if you cannot seal it off completely, you can at least muffle it that way. The same goes for the brightness of your presence."

"Okay, great. I'll try it later, then. Now, I'm eating."

The rest of their late dinner was ingested in silence. Tony couldn't seemed to stop himself from throwing suspicious glances Loki's way, in case he tried to steal something from him again – probably with the stupid excuse of 'we are one' and 'what's yours is mine' and what not. Instead, Loki ate without a word, or a glance at Tony; he looked deep in thought instead. Tony tried not to get distracted by the wavy hair – frigging curls, he hadn't seen that one coming – that was intermittently falling into emerald-green eyes and that Loki absentmindedly put behind his ear again and again.

This whole situation was getting way too awkward for Tony, so he ate as if his life depended on it, and a minute later he was standing with his empty plate and cutlery and glass in hand, making his way to the dishwasher. Then he started up the coffee-machine again, intending to make himself a whole thermos to bring with him to his bedroom. One could never have enough coffee.

Behind him the dishwasher opened again, but Tony ignored it and stared straight his coffee in the making. He didn't need to get distracted by those stupid curls again.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

When Anthony had so abruptly left the table, Loki had been distracted from his inner analysis of his magical core; it was mending annoyingly slowly, but it was replenishing at a good rate, considering. He had not noticed how much time he had turned his mind inwards until Anthony had stood up. Loki scraped the last morsels from his plate and picked everything up, just like his soulmate had, and put it in the machine he had seen the Avengers use for the dirty dishes after brunch. Even though they were now standing rather close, the mortal did not react to his presence.

It seemed like Anthony had not been pleased with his lack of Midgardian decorum during dinner, and if the current situation of him being ignored was the direct result, it would be better to get back into his soulmate's good graces somehow. Anthony was his biggest ally in this Realm – if he did not count Thor, which he would prefer not to. So he started up the conversation with something most people appreciated: appreciation. "I wanted to thank you for letting me use your book device."

This time, Anthony turned away from the coffee-creating machine. "Oh, yeah, no problem. You can keep the e-reader, by the way. And you can take it wherever you want. I'll make myself another one. So this one is yours."

"It was already mine," Loki smirked. He couldn't stop himself – the little stab of annoyance that shot across the bond was just too amusing, even if it only lasted briefly, replaced by resignation.

"Right," Anthony sighed. "Well, I'll make us another, then. One that I will make – just like the one you read from – and one that I will essentially read from, even though it is ours. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes."

"Well that fucking awesome then. Great talk. I'm going to bed. There is a guest room available now that I've put some windows back in. Or there should be, if Thor stays in Pepper's room and if Clint and Nat' still shack together. Do they?"

"It would seem so, Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. answered promptly.

"Okay, well, good night, then."

And Anthony picked up some sort of silver coloured container that smelled of coffee, and made his way towards the elevator before Loki could add anything. Well. It looked like he had messed things up again. He let a heavy breath escape his nose. He would just have to make up for it tomorrow. Loki put the two bottles that still stood on the table back in the refrigerator, and made his way towards the main stairwell as well.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., where am I to sleep tonight?"

"The last empty guest room is two floors up, the second on the right. Might I suggest, Mr Friggason, that you first pick up your personal effects that remain in Miss Potts' room?"

Potts' room was where Thor stayed, and usually Loki wouldn't set foot in there voluntarily, but… Thor had left with Director Fury after brunch, discussing Loki's freedom as if it was merely an unimportant little business transaction – or so the tone of voice had seemed when they walked out. Thor had probably just used Odin's favourite lines: we are Asgard, we are more powerful than you, do what we say or may Yggdrasil have your souls. Other realms ended up systematically complying after millennia of defiance and experiencing defeat time and again; Midgard, however, had no such experience, and their people seemed very wilful and recklessly resistant to blackmail.

When Loki arrived on the fourth landing, he could see light spilling in the corridor form the open room where Thor resided. When he stood at the entrance, he did not expect to see his adoptive brother sitting on the bed, polishing his armour – Thor wouldn't touch a cleaning rag if he could help it. This could only mean one thing: Thor was leaving for Asgard. Even though it should not – he should be glad to get away from this stupid blond Æsir oaf – his heart ached at the idea of being left alone on this realm. Of course, he was not alone; he could never be alone again. Still, he would have preferred having Thor as his protector while his magical core replenished, than having to count on a mortal whose power relied on a mechanical armour, and who could die so very easily despite of it.

As if finally sensing the gaze directed at him, Thor's head snapped up, and a huge grin appeared on his face. "Brother!" The armour piece and the cloth used to clean it fell upon the bed covers, abandoned. "I wanted to speak with you!" Thor said jovially at his usual loud volume.

"I'm certain you did." Loki's voice sounded as sullen as he felt. If Thor was ready to up and leave, it meant he had urgent business in Asgard; urgent business, like Loki being imprisoned, perhaps, or the mortals keeping a dangerous weapon like the sceptre to themselves. Thor leaned over the edge of the bed, and produced said sceptre from behind it. Ah. If he had the sceptre, then…

"I have the sceptre."

"…Yes. I can see that."

Thor stood up and walked towards him, the weapon held in both his hands as if presenting it to Loki, and he could not stop himself from taking a step back. Several steps back. Almost enough to take him out of the room again. "Don't get that thing near me!" he half-shrieked. Thor froze in place, surprise on his face, while behind Loki the door to Anhony's room was yanked open and his soulmate hastily entered the corridor.

"What the hell is happening he— Oh."

Loki had half turned, keeping an eye on both the mortal blocking the entrance, and his stupid brother holding the sceptre, which meant Anthony could now see the reason for the embarrassingly high amount of panic he had let heave along the bond. Anthony eyed Loki, then the sceptre, then Loki again.

"Right." The mortal stepped inside the room and walked towards Thor. And before Loki could even open his mouth to protest, Anthony's hands were around the golden handle. "I'll take that, thank you." And Thor let go, leaving an extremely dangerous weapon in Loki's soulmate's hands. How could he ever have believed he was related to such a stupid, foolish idiot?

Anthony turned to Loki. "What do you want me to do with it? Apart from keeping it away from you, that is."

"Brother will have to get close to it to verify if it is still tainted by the Mad Titan's power. I cannot take it with me to Asgard if it is. The taint will have to be removed."

A humourless laugh escaped Loki's lips. "What makes you think I'm even capable of removing it? I was controlled through that thing once, don't you think it is more than I can handle?"

Thor looked puzzled. "Of course not, Loki. You are the most talented sorcerer Asgard has seen in millennia! If you cannot remove the taint, then I do not know who can." A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through him then. Thor had never, ever talked about magic like it was a talent worth fostering – it was always, 'if you want to fight, use real weapons' and 'using magic in a fight is just for the weak'. Now his tone suggested that magic was of great worth as well, and that Loki's magical talent was something to be celebrated, not scorned. Perhaps his brother had changed more than Loki had realised.

His eyes fell on the sceptre again, and his spirits fell. "Even if the sceptre is still tainted, I cannot possibly purify it now, with my magical core still as weak as it is." Loki closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "I might possibly be able to see if it is still tainted, however."

"That would be very helpful, Brother."

Loki tensed his jaw and reluctantly said: "I would need to touch it."

Concern flooded the mind bond. "You won't get attacked by Thanos again, will you? If there is even a slight risk of that, then forget it. Asgard can send another voodoo-wielder to analyse this thing!"

Loki sighed, resigned. "That will not be necessary. As long as we make our soul bond as strong as possible, it should protect us."

"Should?"

"It will." Anthony scowled at him, and at the lie he had just told. Loki had no idea if their fledgling of a bond would be enough: they could possibly be tainted both in the end. Still, Loki chose to believe they would not be; Anthony could hold the sceptre without any obvious ill effects. He stepped closer to his soulmate. "Give me your hand."

"What?" Anthony had obviously not expected that request, even though Loki felt he had implied the physical contact in the 'as strong as possible' soul bond comment – and the mortal already forgotten how the bond had initially formed?

"Your hand, Anthony." His soulmate pursed his lips but took his hand anyway, and their link – the 'thread' as Anthony seemed to call it – thrummed to life, tingling along his skin, and their emotional transference became clearer. Loki removed all protection on the bond's side of his mind, while he reinforced it on any other part that Thanos could possibly attack. "Sceptre," he ground out at last, and Anthony grudgingly handed it over.

The moment his skin touched the weapon, it flared to life with an ominous crackle, using a power of its own. The Mad Titan's signature was thick around the magical core, a bubbling, pulsing mass that Loki could see in his mind's eye. All of a sudden, the taint lurched along the staff section and latched onto his skin like dark tendrils licking at his fingers, too weak to wrap themselves around his hand that was glowing with soul magic, and yet still trying. The sensation was absolutely disgusting – and he had barely felt that repulsive attack when Anthony wrenched the sceptre out of his hand and threw it away from them. Two hands enclosed the one the taint had touched, and Loki felt the awful, prickling feeling of a thousand crawling creatures disappear from his skin under the soothing warmth of the soul bond.

Anthony's concern was evident both in his eyes and in the back of Loki's mind. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Thank you." Anthony seemed to realise then that he was still holding Loki's hand, because he let them go as if he had been burned, and embarrassment streamed across the bond. Loki replaced his protective bubble to muffle its intensity.

Anthony eyed the sceptre. "Well, as you won't be taking this horrible thing off-planet any time soon, I'll bring it down to the safe in my workshop, I guess." The Midgardian picked the weapon up and walked towards the door. Before he disappeared into the corridor, he turned to Thor. "Will I have to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems and put up a Dennis Nedry 'Ah ah ah, you didn't say the magic word' thing or did you manage to stop Fury's witch hunt?"

Thor looked completely bewildered, and Loki understood the sentiment; this certainly was one of Anthony's strangest sentences yet. Still, Loki had a feeling he grasped the real question behind those silly words. "I believe Anthony means: does S.H.I.E.L.D. still want to imprison me, or did you, somehow, miraculously, manage to convince them, without endangering the peace of the Nine Realms, to let me remain free?"

"Do not worry yourself so, Brother." Thor said, smiling. "The Angry Man told me he would let you be as long as you did not 'step out of line'. He did not answer when I asked him where that line was, unfortunately." Of course Thor would take every word at its literal sense; in all his years he had never learned how to get the gist of local expressions; he relied too much on the abilities – or lack thereof – of Allspeak. And Loki doubted his freedom meant he would be left alone; obviously S.H.I.E.L.D. intended to observe his every move. They might use Barton for such a purpose – he seemed to be doing the exact same thing on a voluntary basis anyway.

Still, what was that expression he had read earlier today? Ah, yes, one did not look a gift horse in the mouth. He was glad – and surprised – that Thor had actually managed to placate Fury, and he certainly hoped there were no silly bribes involved. Thor did have a tendency to promise the silliest things in exchange for the things he wanted, before. If that was the case now, Loki certainly would not participate in whatever it may be.

"Great. Well I'll go lock this thing up. Good night, Thor, Loki."

"I wish you a good night as well, Friend Tony. I will return to Asgard early in the morrow, knowing my dear Brother is in good hands."

Anthony stared. "Ooookay. That's not the kind of big brother speech most people get, but I'll take this one any day. Even though people usually think twice before leaving the care of someone else up to me. Which is something I actually agree with, knowing myself and all. But I'll leave now, before you change your mind and decide to give me the speech anyway." And with those strange words he left.

Loki looked at Thor when something occurred to him. "How will you return to Asgard without the Bifrost?"

"When Heimdall saw that the Tesseract was involved, the Allfather gave me an ancient artefact in the form of a containment chamber that has been used in ancient times to travel using the Tesseract, or so it has been said. He told me that, as long as the destination had been set, travel should be easy to achieve. I simply hope it does not send me to Muspelheimr."

Loki rolled his eyes while Thor laughed. His brother could be such an idiot. "Show me this artefact." Thor plunged behind the bed again – had he never heard of tables or cupboards? – and brought out a cylindrical object with the Tesseract shining bright in its centre, behind the glass. Loki took hold of it, and examined it. Power surged under his fingers, eager to get out, and he had to concentrate hard to find the location spell woven in the material. It had decayed over time, and even if it had been intact before the Cube was put inside, it had now frayed on the edges from the magical wave that had hit it.

He could repair it, of course. It was not difficult, tying the end of the spell to the signature of the crumbling edge of the Bifrost – the residual energy of all the travel between realms was like a beacon along Yggdrasil's branches. The problem was the state of his own magical core, and the ill effects of weaving a spell could have upon it. However, if he could cast the spell using the power of the Tesseract itself, it should not truly impede the healing process of his own magic too much. Loki closed his eyes, and with the aid of the Tesseract's blazingly strong power – which had a metallic and smoky aftertaste – he set Asgard as the destination.

"This should bring you to Asgard when you turn the handle. It would be best if you did so on the roof, as there is already the trace of a rift in between realms there."

"Thank you, Brother! And I shall tell Mother and Father the amazing news!"

"What news?"

"That you are alive and well, of course! And that you have managed the impossible feat of finding your soulmate!"

Ah, yes, how… amazing… "Lovely," he said, doing his best not to grimace. "In case I do not see you tomorrow," which at this point seemed like a great idea, "I already wish you safe travels. And as I am still recovering from yesterday's events, I will be going to bed. Good night."

Loki picked up the bags with his name on them, and walked out the door, a "sweet dreams, Brother" following him out. He made his way to the room J.A.R.V.I.S. had mentioned – it was about half the size of Anthony's – and he slipped under the covers as soon as he had taken off everything but the strange Midgardian underwear. Today had been really tiring. And yet, sleep refused to come.

There will be no foolish sceptre-waving or silly incantations in this fanfiction. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is soulmate fiction writing. However, for those select few who possess, the predisposition... Naaaah, I won't be teaching you anything XD (And I'll stop the Harry Potter reference here :p)

So, no wine but dining, and some brotherly love – mostly on Thor's part. What do you think?

Spread the Luv!

LL