A/N
O-M-G I never thought that this story would get this reaction. You all make me cry happy tears! Thank you for following and favorite this thing. Because you all are amazing, here is the update two days earlier than planned.
I hope that you will like it and you continue to follow and to review
One thing was for sure.
Something very strange was happening to him, and it was all because of the new dream-like-what-ever-it-was kind of state his mind had started wrapping him up in. It had to be a dream. Harry was starting to think he was going insane with all the new settings in the dream kind of world thou.
The dreams were going on and on and on again for nearly every bloody day for the last weekend, and he was so bloody tired all the time, which didn't make sense. because he could fall asleep literally anywhere at any given time as the dream would hit him like a bulger. It was like his mind shut down to protect him.
And then, when he was awake and free of the fog his mind put him in, something else was prone to happen. Every single time something changed. Of course, it had to. He was Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and his life was never easy.
Honestly, Harry had already started on a very long 'what the hell is happening with him list' so far. It's quite a long one.
He took a deep breath to calm his raging emotions and then turned his attention back to the current source of his irritation. Which was sitting on his couch, being a lovely fountain of good comments, and Harry was really close to sending a hex or two his way.
"Long hair suits you." the ginger grinned.
"Sod off," Harry muttered, dragging his hand through his hair to get it out of his face.
The third point -on Harry's fantastic new list- was that his hair had decided to start growing like weeds. If he thought it had been bad before, this was nothing. Gone was his unruly short hair of a crow nest. Instead, it now retched his shoulders in raven-straight black trestles that were impossible to tame.
The whole situation was beginning to get ridiculous. Yes, magic was many things, but come on! This was starting to scare the living shit out of him.
It was frustrating.
"It illuminates your beautiful eyes." Ron's voice was rough with laughter.
Harry refused to look at him and started wandering back and forth again on the worn carpet. He could feel a shiver go through his body, and the papers next to him flew away at an incredible speed.
Harry stared at the paper and threw his head back in a groan as he had what must be an accidental burst of magic. It was like becoming 8 again. Harry stared back down at the documents on the other side of the room and then back to Ron, who was now openly laughing at him.
"Glad it seems to amuse you, Ron. Can we take this a little more seriously now?" growled Harry irritably. He pulled his annoying hair back again and tried to get the tassel to sit in place with a hard jerk, but he failed as it just slid down. Again.
That was another problem Harry had noticed. Han's hair hadn't just suddenly decided to grow, even though he was already trying to use both magic and the scissors to try to cut it back to normal length. It would be that way for a few hours, but the next day, it would have grown out again, an inch longer. It was like his hair was laughing at his failure to tame it.
His hair was long enough that he could stick it together in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck, but his newly formed bangs didn't seem to understand what he wanted them to do. He even tried to use spells and charms Hermione uses on her hair. But no matter what he did, that horrible hair of his seemed not to like it and refused to cooperate.
After the war, Harry claimed his titles, both as the lord of the Potters and the Black, as Sirius had put down his name into the next inline when he was a baby. By blood rituals. Something that Harry had never known before he had visited Gringotts after the whole war was over.
It had come as a shock to him that he was a lord several times over. And not only that but in his bloodline, there were several unclaimed valves and titles that was unlocked with his inheritance. It had been a hectic few months as he tried to clean it all up and sort all the estates as he went side by side with the Auror program. But with the help from the goblins and a hefty fee, of course, it all started to run smoothly. His money had even started to grow as his account manager invested in different things. Making him one of the wealthiest lords that were currently living in the UK.
Hermione had decided to return to Hogwarts and finish her studies and even pursue a master's degree in history and charms. And he and Ron had decided not to return to Hogwarts but instead pursue a career as an auror. The minister had been more than happy to have them in their auror force. And with their familiarity with the fieldwork, neither of them had any problems passing the entrance exams.
There followed a few happy months, and when Harry found out that his family had a large manor away from the bustling and ever-growing city. He had been ecstatic and moved there right away. But something felt like it was missing, and after much consideration, he brought up the question if Ron and Hermione would like to move in with him into the large Potter mansion.
Not that he couldn't live alone, because he totally could. But the place was so big, and he needed his friend's help to fix up the place anyway, so he asked them to help him restore the place and live on-site with him. Simple enough.
He wasn't afraid to be alone within his own mind. Nope, that was really not the case. Neither was the sweet whispering in the back of his mind that commented on his daily life, like some kind of soap opera. Nope. it was all because they had helped him with Grimmauld Place, which he had lent to the Weasley family after the war. Claiming that there were too many memories of Sirus there to make him live there comfortably.
Harry suspected that both Ron and Hermione had the same problem, as they gladly took him up on the offer. Not that space was any problem as the mansion was huge, and with the three of them under the same roof, they all felt much safer.
On the other hand, Harry had no idea what he wanted anymore as the months ticked by. After an extra difficult task of gathering Death Eaters, he was both stunned and frightened of himself that he felt so empty and indifferent when a man died right in front of him. The sweet voice in his mind comforted him as he stared down at those vacant eyes of the dead death eater and felt nothing. Nothing at all, just emptiness.
It no longer felt right, and it scared him.
It was as if something inside him wouldn't listen. He wanted to see them burn and die at his feet, begging for mercy for all the evil things they had done in the war and after. He wanted to see the blank look in their eyes as they understood that there was no way they would walk away alive. Harry had felt pleased that he had shown them he was not powerless anymore. That no one could control him without his consent
After that incident, which he buried deep down inside of him, Harry decided he needed an extended vacation to get his head straight again.
Harry had enough wealth now to never work again in his life anyway, so he decided to restore the Potter mansion full-time. It was more like a therapeutic retreat than anything else. It had remained that way until a few days ago as he had celebrated his 21th birthday with his family around him, and he had fainted later that night without any explanation way. He had woken up on the floor, sore all over, and crawled to his bed and slept for another day before he had woken up, and all this had begun to happen.
Harry shook his head as he came back to his senses, as his mind was prone to wander in all directions these days.
"Can we please focus on my existential crisis?" Harry growled and glared over at Ron
"Okay, okay, sorry, mate. I'm dropping it, "Ron raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, with a grin on his face telling Harry that the redhead would not let this go any time soon. Bloody annoying Weasleys.
He didn't sound sorry at all, that prick. But Harry accepted the small grace he was given and pulled a hand through his wild hair -again-, the motion started to become an annoying habit.
Ron suddenly stood up and reached out a hand tower him. Harry pauses in his path, staring down at the extended hand, and then slowly looks up at the owner questioningly.
Ron rolled his eyes, "Don't be such a Grinch. Hand it over, I'll help you."
"Give you what?" Harry asked suspiciously, and Ron rolled his eyes. Good, perhaps that bloody git would find his brain back there if he continued doing that.
"Which of us has a sister?" Ron asked, grinning as he waved his hand again in a 'give me' motion. "I always had to help Ginny when she was younger with her hair, and mom was not available."
Harry sighed dejectedly, ripping off the offended rubber band of his arm and holding it out to his brother in all but blood to take. "Just do it," he murmured, annoyed. This couldn't get any worse than it was, anyway.
Ron grinned as he walked behind Harry, gathered his hair by hand, then soaked the tassels with water before fastening it tightly around the raven black hair. "There you go, mate."
Harry fingered the bun on the back of his head and grinned. It felt weird, but his hair suddenly decided to stay in place.
"– This is bloody brilliant!" Harry turned around and walked to the full body mirror, looking at his head and the bun that was now holding. "How did you do that?"
"Magic," Ron said teasingly, waving his fingers at Harry but dodging a pillow with a yelp as it suddenly came flying right at him.
"Oh shit, you bloody git." Ron yelped as he ducked another pillow that was flunked his way. "Stop it! Harry? Are you listening to me? Help!"
Harry, still standing by the mirror, ignored Ron's yips as he waved his hand beside him and made the pillow attack his red-haired friend again. A yelp was heard as an oversized decorative pillow walloped Ron in the back. Sending him face-first down into the cushions.
"Not fair!" Ron complained with laughter in his voice
"I'm not playing fair with those who don't deserve it," Harry said and turned around. He almost felt sorry for the red-haired man who was now buried in the pillows, laughing. Keyword, almost. Harry looked down at his hand as he waved another pillow over to the ever-growing pile and noticed his shirt was a little longer than it had been yesterday and frowned.
What was this? He fingered the shirt that now covered his arms fully and the new magic tattoo on his wrist. Had the shirt decided to expand a size? Harry looked at himself in the mirror, suddenly seeing somebody he didn't really know. Sure, he knew it was him, and the resemblance was there. But he was…smaller, somehow. More lithe than he ever had been, yes, he had been small all his life. But there is a difference between being small and lithesome and malnourished. He was now the former more than the latter. For simplicity's sake, he would say that he actually looked softer, more feminine.
No, that was not the right word, but he could not find another word for his complex at this time. His shoulder was no longer broad as it had been a few days back, and his neck was longer, slenderer than it ever had been. His face had taken a softer look as he no longer had that sharp jawline, and his eyes had taken on a new shine as well. Was this why his body had hurt so much yesterday? The magic, or curse, whatever it was, was changing his appearance.
Harry fingered the seam for a moment before magically reducing it, there was nothing he could do right now, and his mind was too mushy to even try to find any logical explanation of what is happening to his body and mind.
Ron muttered at the pillows and shook his head as he emerged from his fluffy prison. "You know, I remember asking Ginny once why she didn't fix her hair with magic." Without noticing Harry's thoughtful expression, the redhead continued. "She had the same problem as you have now. It comes from the fact that some individuals leak their magic unconsciously all the time, making the hair its outlet."
Harry couldn't exactly say he ever had a thought about that, "Huh, good to know." Not really, but he appreciated that his friend at least tried to come up with an explanation." How do we get it to stop growing?"
"Absolutely no idea," Ron said, retching over to the table and stuffing a caramel into his mouth as he sank back onto the couch, now filled to the brim with pillows. Harry had no idea that they owned so many pillows. Harry rubbed his face, giving off a frustrating sight. Why did this happen to him? Why couldn't he just live peacefully and without anything else happening to him? Now he had strange dreams, wild hair that decided to have a life of his own, and his ever-growing magic not to mention the magical tattoo that had appeared on his wrist. In addition, the headache that pounded on his sore skull would soon become his death.
Harry had tried everything, the pain relief potions no longer worked as they used to do, and sleep only brought him more pain and strange dreams. He had even started taking double the amount to get the slightest effect without any success, and it was like his body started to become immune to the potions, or his pain was far worse than he could cure with magic.
"Harry, are you okay?" the redhead suddenly asked, as he had been silent for a while. The previously amused voice was now full of worry. "You look like you are in pain again. Do you need me to fetch Hermione? Is it a new attack?"
Attack, yes, that's what they called the massive headache that popped up and almost rending him useless each time. "No, no, it's fine," Harry said, massaging his temple.
He was suddenly feeling very tired and grumpy, everything felt wrong right now, and he needed something to make it all go away. He had no idea when the feeling of hurt and pain gripped his heart, but it felt like a hand was squeezing it. Everything from his body to his magic felt weird. In addition, he could not eat anything properly and could only live on dry bread and water.
Ron suddenly stood beside him again with his arm supporting him, now looking worried, "Harry, you can barely stand straight," he said, "Maybe you should try to rest a little?"
Harry held back a sigh and gritted his teeth as the explosive pain swept over his eyes. Sleep didn't sound too bad. Even with the strange dreams, it was better than this intense pain. At least the dreams were nice and exciting, filled with books and learning stuff Harry still could remember as he woke up.
"Rest," the redhead said as he placed a blanket over Harry's body and put all the pillows around him to ensure he would not fall off the couch. "I'll wake you up if Herms finds anything."
Harry could only nod as he lay down on the couch, his head hadn't even been laid on the pillow before he drifted away, and a new dream invaded his mind as soon as he let go of himself.
. : * ̈ ̈ *: . . : * ̈ ̈ *: .
The room they walked into was huge.
The entire ceiling was decorated with massive gold ornaments. There wasn't a single spot on the ceiling that was empty of any kind of art or decorations, making it a magnificent sight and show of power. The far end of the wall was covered with huge windows towering up to the ceiling, and down its sides hung heavy red curtains that were all held together with thick golden ropes. At the far end of the room were majestic tables set up in dark wood with dozens of golden bowls filled to the brim with food, pastries, and fruit.
Harald let his gaze travel over the collection of guests that looked over at them, whispering. Both the men and women were all exclusively dressed as laughter filled the air when the conversation started again. There were even some fairies and elves there mixed into the crowd. He could easily recognize their appearance because they had a different attraction to the surroundings than others. It was as if the fairies and elves absorbed all the light as they moved fleetingly among the guests.
Harald swallowed hard and focused on his parents' backs while they were introduced to court. He could feel burning glances at him and could only guess that most people were curious about them. Curious and probably a little bit scared. He understood why these eyes were on them. His family mainly kept their own realm and did not often mix with others. However, as part of the legendary creature that they were, there were many preconceived notions and opinions about his people.
Many often saw them as wild animals or monsters, which was valid to some extent. Harald and his family looked more human due to their high level of magic and rank in their society than other faes. They were more complex than other beings and were more sensitive to external magic and energy.
Honestly, Harald hated events like this, and it made him feel like they were exclusive animals viewed behind a glass wall. Hidden away until the most glamorous events.
No, this was not a setting he liked. He thrived better out in nature, not trapped in a cage of gold and marble. Even if it was only for a short while, he wanted nothing more than to blend into the shadows and escape from all thus gazes he felt directed at him. And he would have done that if this had not been a very important night.
Harald's eyes were fixed on the throne right before them. The golden throne shine in the dancing light from the chandeliers as the Asgardian rulers were all standing up there, above all the rest, welcoming their guests with polite smiles. His heart was speeding up, and he could literarily hear his own pulse in his ears as he saw the dark-haired male standing on the other side of the All-mother. His breath was caught in his lung as he finally laid eyes on the male he had saved all those years ago. Six, to be precise.
After that night in the forest when Harald had met Loki for the first time, not only had their soul bond sprung to life, but with it had come a vast magic boost for him. If he had been older, it would not have created any problem, but as he had been eleven back then. It had not been easy for his young body to handle his new power and transformation. Even dangerous sometimes, as he had lost control more than a few times. But not anymore.
It had been a long time. Perhaps Loki would not recognize him? Harald tried to look for any kind of recognition in the dark-haired male's face and felt a stab in his chest as there was none. Not even a second glance.
But why? He knew that his parents had informed the Aesir ruler about what had happened, so Loki should know too. Harald wanted to scream at the skies. He hadn't been allowed to even write to Loki at all or explain. For all he knew, Loki could already have forgotten him and moved on. He would not be surprised if he did that, and yes, he knew it was stupid, but he was allowed to be stupid this evening. That did not change the fact that as he walked away, he felt disappointment rise inside of him.
In honor of this evening's event, he wore a long cobalt blue tunic that stretched down over his knees and fastened to his waist with a brown, beautifully decorated belt. He wore a white undershirt under his tunic that floated comfortably over his arms, concealing his soulmate mark from all other than himself.
His jet-black hair sat in an exquisite knot with ornaments around the knot and intertwined in his hair with a red silk ribbon. But even less than an hour since they had fixed his hair, it had fallen off the knot and framed his face, giving him a more feminine look.
Harald lifted his head and raised his chin. He had to remind himself that he needed to look taller than he was, more confident. He hated how short he was compared to his family, like that precise gene was forgotten in the making of him.
He only went to his father's chin, for God's sake, and even his mother was half his head taller than him. His father had only laughed at his complex and shook his head amusedly, telling him that it was a sign that his magical ability had real potential to become one of the most powerful in the nine worlds. Not that Harald cared about that.
It didn't matter much because he was still short and skinny! He was even shorter than his sister, who was now hovering next to him in a cherry pink dress that perfectly fit her feminine curves.
Her silver-gray hair was beautifully braided and fastened with the same pearl ornament he had in his hair. Her eyes were profoundly amber, her lips were red as sun-ripened strawberries, and around her neck was the soft golden band of her soul mark that had yet begun to bloom. All in all, she was a beautiful young woman.
Harald looked at his sister as they walked half-hidden behind their parents, and she gave him an annoyed look back. Seriously, he could even hear her plaintive voice with that look, and her voice rang in his mind that he had to behave and endure this godforsaken torture. He held back a grimace.
Harald straightened up. He suddenly felt an intense shiver go through him. His brain shut down at the incredible sensation, not knowing what to do. His mouth suddenly felt dry, as if all the saliva had been sucked out of his throat, leaving a spoonful of ash instead.
He tried to calm his runaway heart, and those nerves that made the air around him begin to vibrate, and his mark burned intensely. Suddenly, it felt almost impossible to breathe. The need to get away was so intense as the magic was almost cracking around him.
Harald's suddenly felt his sister's hand pull lightly on his arm, and whatever had created the magic moment was broken.
"What are you doing?" she murmured. "Behave"
He quickly looked at her before looking down and grimacing at her tone.
You don't need to remind me, dear sister," he muttered back
As soon as their parents set off to mingle with the rest of the guests, they had to follow suit. Every step he took away from his mate felt strangely heavy and almost dragging, and Harald clenched his fists behind his back, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm.
He did it again. Harald turned his back on his soulmate and left him voluntarily. But he needed to be social for a while before he could escape. He also needed to get his emotions under control before exploding something.
He wasn't made for significant events like this, and his magic flared out to him in steady bets. But after some time mingling with some kind of blacksmith, Harald apologized and pulled away from the main floor without seeming rude. Dusk had now settled outside the massive windows, and the doors were wide open to let in the fresh air as people danced.
Around the walls were vast tapestries of freshly lit candles as thick as his forearms and probably the same length. It gave the room a vague and mysterious impression. All from the large ceiling hung a dozen large crystal chandeliers that lit up the dance floor.
He had never understood why a palace needed so much decoration or gold hanging everywhere. But Asgard was well known for being one of the fiercest warrior peoples. Partying and fighting were in their blood. They were dangerous to their enemies and very protective of their loved ones. It was, of course, a large part of these warriors who made peace possible along with the Valkyria.
Unfortunately, strength had never been Harald's central area, he had trained in the art of war, but his body was not made for bulky weapons or melee fights. He was the stealthy type. He could defeat his opponents with cunning, tricks, and magic if he had to.
It always fell back to his magic, wild and untamed but ever-present. Harald was a powerful magical being, and no one in his realm denied that he was of royal blood. Funnily enough that his supposed soulmate had the title of God of magic already in his arsenal. Magic was fickle, especially in this kind of event. His magic was more tangible and reactive to even the slightest appearance.
Every century, Asgards' royal family held a grand banquet to celebrate the peace over their world and make new political contacts with other realms, which all were invited on these nights. The first night was mainly for the younger generation to find their second half or make new friends. The festivities lasted for a hundred days and one night; this was the fourth day of celebrations, meetings, and political events that would occur later in several months. He was sure there would even be competitions to brag about his abilities or have a legal excuse to knock someone to the ground.
Harald nervously pulled on the arm of his tunic. He had seen several guests proudly display their soulmate marks. They were clear for everything and everyone to see in the hope that their chosen one would notice it or show that they had already been taken. But Harald didn't have to show his wrist to the world. He already knew his soulmate, but did Loki even want him anymore? Was it possible for a mate to deny the other?
Even his destiny to become heir to Death had been put on hold because Death had chosen three Midgardians to take it instead. If this was the desire of faith, then it countered.
Harald let out a heavy sigh and felt his whole body tense as if he was just waiting to be jumped on. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, listening to the strain of happy guests and the music playing.
He had no idea how to deal with Loki. Should he just go ahead and introduce himself? It felt like the most logical thing to do, but the question was just how. The tickling sensation that swept across his arm and back suddenly felt burning.
Harald remembered the tormented and almost betrayed look in Loki's eyes that he had fled all those years before. Was that why Loki hates him now? Was it already too late? Perhaps he already had a partner he loved and had already forgotten about him?
He took a choppy breath as the reality of his thought struck him. Shit, shit, shit, what was he going to do? What was he going to say? Should he say something? Should he apologize for how cowardly he was? But he had only been a child, and standing up to adult warriors wasn't something he could do in that situation.
He had followed them in the distance to see that Loki was well taken care of and that he had not abandoned his soulmate to his enemy. But the care the blonde mountain of Aesir had given Loki reassured him when they entered the rainbow-colored portal.
Harald sighed heavily and lowered his gaze to the floor again. Maybe he should let it be? His mind was fascinated by the fact that the floor was as beautifully decorated as the rest of the room. The polished stone had small veins of glittering golden veins that glittered under the light of the lamp. He could hear the laughter and music around him but was content to stand in the shadow of the pillar that served as his screen for the outside world as he tried to calm his mind down.
Suddenly, he could see a pair of polished black boots standing right in front of him, and he stared down at them. His shoulders tightened, and he held his breath as he slowly raised his gaze to the longest sleek and beautifully sewn black pants. He could see the decorative seams crawling exclusively into the structure. He brought in the equally elegant green tunic framed by a black sleeveless coat that was as exclusive as the pants. All in all, it was a complete and beautiful Asgardian ceremonial dress.
His heart pounded in his chest, and his hands felt damp with sweat as he realized that the person in front of him was who he was afraid to face. Harald lifted his gaze quickly, despite the apparent nervousness, all the way up to the handsome face and intense eyes that nailed him to his place when he faced them again, and he was frozen stiff.
His breathing stuck in his throat as Loki stared down at him with a blank expression on his face.
Harald swallowed hard, "My... prince...". Why was he here? Was he angry? he must be, Harald thought as those eyes darkened.
Harald's thoughts were thrown around in his mind, circling his concerns and fears over and over again. But he suddenly became aware that Loki's lips had moved, and he hadn't heard a single word he had spoken.
Harald swallowed hard and opened his mouth to apologize, to ask what he had missed. This wasn't good. He couldn't humiliate another prince, let alone his soulmate! Sure, he was one himself, so death was not an option, but Asgard was the head of the Nine Kingdoms, the supreme ruler of all worlds….
Damn it
"You haven't heard anything I said just now, have you, Prince Harald?" The Prince of Asgard indulged in a low sound of laughter as he looked down at the now-stunned teenager in front of him.
"Should I feel violated?" Loki asked in a deep voice that made his core tremble with only a few words. And that laughter... Before Harald's brain spiraled out of his mind again, he swallowed hard and shook his head.
"I apologize," he forced himself out, grimacing at his voice cracking. "That wasn't my intention. I was lost in my thoughts, my liege..."
Loki hummed lowly, " I accept your apology but on one condition, little one."
Harald bit the inside of his chin. He barely stopped his mouth to say he would do anything to deserve his forgiveness.
"Dance with me. "
Harald felt his mind go completely blind.
"What?" he stupidly asked as he stared at him with a gaping mouth, having no idea how to say anything about it.
Harald felt that his brain had finally stopped working. He must have heard wrong. He must have heard wrongly. But when Loki extended his elegant hand to him, he could do nothing but stare at it.
"May I have this dance?" Loki's voice was soft, and he had a captivating smile, and the mere sight of it made butterflies flutter in his stomach.
Harald slowly raised his hand and put it in his partner's waiting hand, a shock went through both of them, and something in Loki's gaze shifted. He received a more contented and victorious look as if this was the last confirmation he needed, and his smile reflected his triumph. Loki slowly began to back onto the dance floor, where several people were already dancing in a sea of colors.
Women in beautiful and exclusive dresses and the men with ornate outfits of all their colors moved in time with the music starting to ebb and give a little pause to let people get off the dance floor or stay if they wanted the next song.
Harald was standing opposite Loki, who bowed slightly, and when he straightened up, his hand was placed against Harald's waist. The music began to play again slowly, and Harald tried to calm down his beating heart. It felt almost impossible because his gaze was fixed on the older man's face, who now stared down at him. Those intense green eyes brought Harald into an iron grip, almost as if he was afraid he would disappear if he looked away.
Slowly, they began to move softly to the music in a soft circle. Loki's arm resting behind Harald's back led them both in a gentle and elegant motion around the other dancers. The hand on Harald's waist almost burned holes in his clothes as Loki skillfully led them around in light circles.
"Relax," Loki muttered, squeezing his hand, "I'm not going to make you fall and make a fool of yourself. "
Harald gave him an annoyed look, easy for him to say! Everyone around them had paused in their dance and was now staring at them openly. Harald began to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the attention on them, and his whole being told her to flee. But simultaneously, the Asgardian prince kept him in a stable and secure grip.
"Just look at me like there's no one else here," he said, taking a step back, pulling with him. "Never mind the others.
Harald made a low snorting sound. "Just look at you? Isn't that a little arrogant to say?" he asked. "Maybe we're going to dance into someone and crash down and make a huge mess. And what makes you think your something to look at?" Harald couldn't help the nervous rambling, nor did it help that he still didn't understand how he could have ended up in this situation that suddenly felt way over his head.
The young prince's humming made the newly formed lump in his chest vibrate, sending an electric sensation right through Harald, and he held back the blush that threatened to occur.
"It's not me they're looking at, beloved," Loki continued, pulling him away and then taking him back. No, they look at the beautiful, magical dancing partner I managed to catch in my golden net. "
Harald stumbled over his feet at his words, but Loki was quickly there, catching him and, with an elegant motion, performing a new movement to hide Harald's mistake, looking amused at his smaller dance partner. Harald couldn't stop the hot blush that made his entire face and neck painfully hot this time.
"So, the rumors are true; that silver tongue you have is truly dangerous," Harald said in a low voice to hide his nervousness. He had to gain some control over himself and his magic before it started to trickle out.
Loki spun around so that his back was pressed against Loki's chest, and Harald could literary feel how the contact sent electrical signals through his entire body when his face was close to his head. Suddenly, he could feel the softness of another magic covering his whole body in a soft blanket, raised in his own. His arms were outstretched while dancing a little slower to the music before they almost reluctantly parted as the magic still lingered between them.
"You shouldn't listen to all the rumors you hear," Loki spoke in a hoarse voice as he held him close, his eyes burning into Harald's own.
"Do you deny that, then?" Harald asked, shivering as Loki's every breath fell over his neck as he bent his head closer to his, and he must have imagined the feeling spreading within him.
"No"
It felt like his heart was trying to tear itself away behind his sternum. Han's mouth felt as dry as if he had eaten sand, and it was just as hard to swallow. Loki's arm was suddenly behind his back again, holding him close to him. His warmth slid into his back, and he felt his breath contract as his magic received Lokes without questions.
The soul mark sent hot pulses up his arm and chest. The feeling lit a fire within him that he had never felt before. Harald could not find the energy or the will to create larger spaces between them.
He looked up at Loki as he was led around the dance floor, everything around Harald suddenly beginning to fade. He could still hear the music playing in the background but only focused on his dance partner, who smiled down at him.
The tickling sensation spread all over his body, and he almost drowned in the confident feeling of the magic being created. Loki's face was so close to his now, their breath mixed, and it felt like he was about to drown, and they just kept afloat in each other's arms. The warm air hit his already tender lips, he knew that he wanted them to be pressed against those of his dance partners, and when Loki's eyes flicked down at his lips, he would say he felt the same need.
But the sudden applause brought him back to reality, and in surprise, Harald jerked away from the warm body. He let go of Loki as if he had been electrocuted, with shocked eyes at what he had wanted to do. He gave him a stiff bow before quickly turning around and fleeing the rooms. New dancer sets took their place.
No. No. No, this can't be happening.
What is he doing? How could he let this happen, not now? Harald fled out the massive glass door, onto the porch, and into the darkness on the outside. Without further warning, he began walking back and forth on the porch, running his hand through his hair as he had a habit, only to ruin the last of his delicate hair bun.
But the poor thing had already done its duty, and it was a miracle that the hair stayed where it had been for so long. He pulled out his tassels and leaned against the stone railing, staring at the beautifully lit maze below the balcony. He felt the magic crackle underneath his skin, boiling, and yet, it was not in a destructive kind of way. The magic was singing to him.
He ran his hand through his hair again and shook it out, his long black hair reaching down to his waist and draping over his shoulders as he tilted his head forward. Trying to compose himself and not mess things up. His heartbeat was painfully stiff, and he grabbed his shirt and bit into it as the blush threatened to spread across his neck and cheeks again.
He'd been so close to kissing Loki, and the mere thought made him want to squeal in happiness.
Suddenly, he felt someone else's presence behind him. The magical scent surrounding him had become as familiar to his senses as his own, even after only bathing in it once, which was almost 5 minutes ago.
Harald closed his eyes tightly but refused to look up or turn around, he both heard and felt Loki getting closer, but he was too scared to look at him. A soft scent of flowers suddenly hit his senses, and Harald opened his eyes in surprise, staring down at a bouquet of forget-me-nots held directly in front of him.
Harald stared down at the blue baby flowers before slowly looking up at the smiling prince beside him. Loki's gaze was dark and intense, but there was something else there, too, something he couldn't put into words.
"A word of warning, little one. I won't let you run away from me again the second time."
Harald's breath stuck in his throat, and he tried to swallow around the lump created there while receiving the bouquet with shaking fingers. He didn't know how to interpret the words, nor did he know what to answer. He could only stare up at the handsome prince's amused face.
Why did he suddenly feel that he was facing a predator that had found its new prey?
"And who says I'm going to run away?" he asked with a challenging look, swallowing as he could taste his mate's magic. " Who knows, we might wake up tomorrow, and it's all just been a dream."
"Dream or not," Loki said, letting a hand reach out to Harald's arm, the arm his soul mark was on, and took his hand lightly into his.
Without letting go of Harald's gaze, he began to tug on the fabric that held his tunic together over his arm, and as it slackened, he began almost seductively to pull up the white fabric. All without letting go of Harald's gaze with his. Only when he had exposed his forearm did Loki look down and see the now blooming Forget-me-not and the decorating a few giant golden yellow blub.
Loki gently caressed his skin, and Harald felt a shiver go through him and closed his eyes. But he opened them just as quickly as he felt something wet on his wrist, and a violent blush flared up on his cheeks and neck when he saw Loki first have his lips to the inside of his ankle and kiss the inside wrist.
"At last, I have found you," Loki whispered. "My beloved soulmate and I will not let go of you again."
A / N:
I hope that you all like it so far. I can tell you all that the first draft is already written. It is going to be ten chapters (so far). I'm probably going to update this one on Sunday or Saturdays or even earlier. It all depends on you guys :D love ya!
Fun fact:
Forget-me-not: This flower has long been considered a flower of love or friendship. It can also mean, "Open your heart to love."