Harry chews his lower lip as he thinks about the way his life has been going. It's been going so well. Too well really. He has 2 mates he loves, is half-bonded to Fred and George, and is Courting them and Gideon. His mind whirled, much like it had when he added Fionn and then Laric as potential mates, but in a completely different way.
He liked Gideon, it wasn't that he didn't want him necessarily. On the contrary, having two older and stronger men looking after him and making the hard decisions? He felt safe, and like he didn't have to do everything himself anymore. It was an entirely foreign feeling. And he was rapidly growing more fond of Gideon. The kiss at the theatre… He didn't mean for that to happen, and especially not so soon!
But was it too soon? He wasn't sure. The novel sensation of finding solace in his mates was still fresh, and the fear of losing them - all because he rushed headlong into something he wasn't ready for - scared him.
Lost in thought, Harry barely noticed Laric's arrival until a hand gently touched his shoulder. Startled, he looked up into Laric's ice-blue eyes, seeing the concern etched on his face.
"Your mind is racing, little star," Laric murmured, moving to sit next to him. "What are your fears? Share them with me."
Harry took a deep breath, summoning the courage to voice his thoughts. "It's... it's going too fast," he confessed. "Fionn, then you, and finding out abut Fred and George, and now Gideon... I'm just..." He trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Laric paused, watching him attentively. "Just because we are Courting them does not mean you have to accept them immediately or at all," he said slowly. "It is not your choice alone, you do not have to carry that burden little star. Let us help you. If any of us decide not to Accept those we are Courting into our mateship, I would expect the others to understand."
Harry blinked slowly, considering Laric's words. He had been so caught up in his own worries that he'd forgotten the collective decision-making process. It was new to him, the concept of sharing such responsibilities. His past had conditioned him to bear all burdens solo and the idea of sharing them, even with his mates, was unnerving.
"You would...understand?" Harry hesitated, anxiously fiddling with the edge of his shirt. "If I wasn't ready...you wouldn't be angry?"
Laric's brows knit together as he regarded Harry. A hint of sadness seeped into his gaze. "Of course not," he reassured Harry. "We are here to love and support you, not force something onto you that you are not ready for."
Harry looked up into Laric's eyes. "I kissed Gideon at the theatre. And I kissed Fred long before I was in a mateship with anyone. Well, more like he kissed me. But adding three people all at once feels like that time Ash was teaching me to fly. Exciting, and then falling without any way of stopping. And I know we've only just begun the Courtships, but…" he trailed off and dropped his eyes, watching his fingers crease and uncrease the edge of his shirt.
Laric reached out, covering Harry's trembling hands with his own and bringing a grounding calm to him. He remained silent for a few moments, allowing Harry to gather his thoughts. The younger man's anxiety was palpable, but Laric was determined to be the support that Harry needed.
"When you say it feels like falling," Laric started softly, drawing Harry's gaze once more. "Are you afraid of the freefall, or of hitting the ground?"
Harry thought about the question. "I… I think I'm afraid of both," he admitted in a whisper. "The freefall is terrifying because it's out of my control. But hitting the ground…" He swallowed, looking away. "I don't want to hurt anyone. What if I can't… What if I'm not good enough?"
A surge of protective instinct washed over Laric at the words, his grip on Harry's hand tightening minutely. "Harry," he began, his voice firm yet gentle, "you are more than enough. Do you understand that? You are enough, just as you are. We want you, not some perfect ideal of a mate. We want Harry Potter."
Harry's eyes were filled with a mixture of trepidation and hope as he looked at Laric, absorbing the older Demon's words. Laric's icy gaze held his, sincerity ringing clear in his tone.
"All of you?" Harry asked, his voice small, "Even Gideon? He… He has so much more status than I realized at first. And now with his Uncle recovering from being poisoned he's had to take on so much more work. And I know it only happened yesterday, and it won't be forever, but I'm just… me. How could I be good enough for an Heir or a Lord?"
Laric's gaze softened and he reached out, gently lifting Harry's chin so their eyes met once again. "You are more than just 'you,' as you put it," Laric said in a quiet, intense voice. "You are strong, brave and capable of far more than you give yourself credit for. Your status does not define your worth, Harry." He paused before continuing. "Gideon chose to court you, to Court all of us, because he sees these qualities in you, not because he wants to add another title or status symbol to his life."
Harry looked away again, but nodded. Clearing his throat he attempted to change the subject. "How is Lord Damien?"
Laric watched as Harry attempted to steer the conversation away from his own insecurities. He recognized the familiar signs of avoidance, as Harry often exhibited those when uncomfortable truths about himself were laid bare. However, it was a topic that would need revisiting, Laric decided.
"Lord Damien is faring well," he answered, keeping one hand on Harry's. "Rialyn and Fionn got to him in time. He just needs time to recover now. The poison was removed, but his body is still feeling the stress from almost dying."
Unspoken was the fact that Gideon had been worrying himself sick over his uncle's condition, adding another layer of stress to the already complex juggling he was doing as he tried to continue his own Heir duties as well as take on those of the Lord of the Shadow.
Harry could sense the unspoken concern in Laric's tone, and he sighed. He knew very well what it meant to carry a burden alone, and he didn't want Gideon to go through that. But at the same time, the fear of not being enough still lingered. Gideon had so much on his plate, and Harry feared that his own insecurities would just add to the mix.
"I wish I could help," Harry mumbled, looking down at their intertwined hands. His fingers flexed as if wanting to do something but not knowing exactly what.
"You are helping," Laric reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. "You give us strength, Harry. Your presence alone brings comfort."
Harry gave a soft laugh, shaking his head slightly. "My presence... Right." He wasn't sure he believed Laric's words but was grateful for them nonetheless.
"You underestimate your impact on us, little star," Laric said softly.
Harry's gaze flickered back to Laric, uncertainty etched into his features. "I just…" He sighed, struggling to articulate his thoughts. "I just worry, you know? That I'm… too much. Or not enough."
Laric's gaze softened further at Harry's admission, his thumb gently brushing against the back of Harry's hand in a soothing rhythm. "Harry," he began patiently, "you are not too much, nor are you lacking. You are exactly what we need."
"I want to be what you need," Harry admitted quietly, the words barely more than a breath as he locked his gaze with Laric. "But it's hard when I still haven't figured out what I need."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Laric's mouth as he leaned forward, his hand coming up to gently tuck a stray lock of messy hair behind Harry's ear. "And that is okay, Harry. You do not have to have everything figured out all at once. It is a process," he said softly, holding the younger man's gaze with an intensity that left no room for doubt.
"We are here for you while you navigate through it all. And when you do figure out what you need, we will be here to help you get it."
There was a pause as Laric's words washed over Harry, his heart pounding within his chest. Part of him wanted to believe in Laric's sentiment, in the steadfast support offered so freely and unconditionally. But the other part was still caught in the throes of uncertainty and fear.
He gave Laric a small nod, offering him a shaky smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured.
"Of course, little star." Laric leaned down and brushed his lips against Harry's, pulling him close.
