You are all worth your weight in gold, especially my wonderful beta Wixs.

Harry woke up to the sun's warm rays dancing over his face. He groaned, annoyed that he had forgotten to close the curtains yesterday. For a second, it was hard to know what was still a memory dream and what was reality. He pressed one of his hands over his eyes to try and push back the throbbing sensation that was making itself known. No, scratch that. This was the real world, no doubt about that. His whole body was stiff, and his back was the worst.

Harry stared up at the white ceiling through his fingers. Memories from yesterday invaded his mind, making him frown as something similar had happened in his memory-dreaming. That probably explained why he had some difficulties discerning reality. He felt a sour taste in his mouth as he tried to get his saliva to work, rubbing his sore forehead.

Harry relaxed into the soft mattress, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings as he grounded himself. With each breath he took, he could feel the walls vibrating with life and taste magic in the air. The residual memories were at the forefront of his mind. They were nothing special. It had been Harald, Loki, and Thor discussing the matter of Asgard late one night in front of a sparkling fire.

Harry could still remember the tickling smell of burning wood. The crackling sound was like a lullaby, and he remembered the feeling of running his fingers through Loki's night-black hair, letting his nails lightly scratch his scalp. The heat from the fire against his shin made the skin feel tight, and Thor's deep voice created a perfect bubble around them.

It was warmth and love, without a doubt, a familiar situation for the three of them. Harry opened his eyes again, not remembering closing them as he forced down the bile trying to make its way up his throat. He tried to force down the bittersweet feeling now surging at the memory. It felt like his entire existence was trying to taunt him, dangle what he had once had and had subsequently lost right before his eyes.

He had no right to the feelings the memories contained. It wasn't Harry's life. It was Harald's. But was it so wrong of him to want to cherish these memories? To be a part of them? Even if he, Harry, wasn't a part of them? It must be a normal reaction, right? But then again, who was he to decide what was normal and what was not?

He had never been considered normal in his entire life. Even as a baby, his existence was seen as a miracle, having survived the killing curse. Before he was eleven, he thought he was no more than a freak, unwanted, and a burden to his aunt and uncle. Then, his world was turned upside down when he was told he was a wizard—an important one, for that matter.

Throughout his school years, the war and fighting, he had never been normal, constantly ending up in strange situations and plots. So no, he was not the right person to say what was normal. But, to him -Harry - waking up like this was a new experience, the feelings bubbling inside him were almost unknown, yet it all felt so familiar as the memories of Harald's time blended with his, robbing him of his own first-time experience of it all.

Warm air caressed his neck, snapping Harry out of his spinning mind, and he suddenly became hyper-aware of the warm body lying next to him. He was no stranger to having someone warm his bed; there had been a few throughout his school years, and it had been an excellent way to relax and take his mind off the world outside.

However, given his current complicated emotional and romantic situation... Yeah, that was a new can of worms that Harry was not equipped to poke at, not yet, at least. Harry tried to tell himself that he was stupid: everything was all right, and he should not feel conflicted over the other soul slowly taking over his own. But was it the right way to go?

Harry had always struggled with romantic feelings or the concept of love, not knowing quite what he could expect from the emotion. Being a touch-starved and neglected child - Hermione's word had been 'abused' – not that he would ever admit it, but as a child, no one had given him any good experiences or references for that so-called 'love' everyone was talking about.

It took his friends a lot of work to relearn a decade of neglect and twisted words. Some days, he could still feel it all weighing down on his shoulders. But now, with Harald's memories, he suddenly had a completely different set of references to what love was and what it felt like without even experiencing them himself, and he find himself craving it.

The need to touch and feel the warmth of his significant other was engraved in his very soul. It was different, and it scared him in a thrilling kind of way, and he wanted to explore it more. But he held back. This was not the time for that. How much he desired those lips sent shivers down his spine, making him crave more.

Harry raised his hand to carefully stroke away the hair that had fallen over Loki's face but pulled back at the last second. He didn't want to disturb him now that he seemed to be getting the rest he needed.

Loki's skin was almost transparent, and there were large bags under his eyes. Loki was more mentally exhausted than he had let on. As he should have been, Loki's mind had been on the edge of breaking. Right now, as he slept, the deep wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out, and his mouth was half open and relaxed, unaware that he was being stared at.

A soft tickling sensation came over the bond, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. The soft feeling of his soulmate's presence suddenly felt too raw and personal for his mind to handle. Harry never knew the weight of a promise like the one he made with Loki last night. To try again, to do it together this time. It would be even more challenging than facing off with Thanos, which still was a little bit anti-climactic, truth be told, but he was happy nonetheless that that part was over.

Still, how could he help Loki with his demons when he continued to struggle with his own? Last night, the shattering pain that had gone through his chest had been horrible enough. It was so much worse than the small pinches he had before. By the gods, it had felt like his very soul had been ripped in two.

How could Loki even want to be close to him after everything Harald had put him through? Harry wasn't stupid. He knew it was all because of Harald's death that Loki had fallen into Thanos' grasp, one way or the other. How could he have been foolish enough to think that Loki's family would look after him when he knew his mate's struggle growing up?

Harry slowly untangled himself from Loki without waking him up and exited the bed stiffly. He picked up a shirt lying on a chair and put on a pair of pants, ignoring socks as he walked barefoot out of the bedroom. The coldness of the floor grounded him in the present.

The corridor outside was quiet and still. Nothing from the outside world penetrated the thick walls, which felt strange. There had always been some noise around him, if not the house's creaking, then the chatter of some magical being was always around. Here, there is just a low hint of humming from the walls, but not even that could be called noise. Harry let his eyes wander as he walked over to the kitchen. His steps were stiff, and he could feel his muscles protesting being in motion, but he ignored it as he needed to move.

Harry paused in the opening of the kitchen and took the whole thing in. Everything was high class and exclusively done, even he knew that with only one look, but that was not all. It was also filled with all this new technology, some of which he had never seen before, and he had been the main cook in the Dursleys' house, so he was no stranger to cooking devices. But this? This was like he was back at eleven and was introduced to the Wixen world—a new world of steel and electricity.

Harry slowly walked inside and looked around in the cupboards, quickly finding where they kept the cups. He even found bread and put one in the toaster, only for the machine to sparkle under his touch and fizzle out with a soft popping sound.

"Oh, come on!" Harry protested as he stared at the now-broken toaster.

Why could nothing go his way? He wanted to scream and blow things up in frustration, and he could feel the magic inside of him rippling underneath his skin, making it crawl and feeling too tight for his liking. Harry took a deep breath and let it go. He hoped he did not need to explain how he could kill the poor toaster to anyone.

Harry looked down at his cup and then over to the coffee machine. The shiny, high-tech, ready-to-pour machine. Of course, he needed to push the display to get it to work. Honestly, he had never entirely understood the fascination with coffee in the morning or the need that some people developed for the dark drink to wake up and function. However, he could appreciate the taste and now felt like a perfect time for a cup of coffee to calm his inner storm.

Only this time, when he really, really needed one, he was hindered by the high possibility of him making the whole thing go 'boom', and then there would be no more coffee and no more machine for that matter either.

"If I may," the sudden voice interrupted Harry's thoughts as he looked up at the ceiling. "I can help you start the machine without touching it, Mr Potter."

"Wait, you can do that?" Harry up at the ceiling.

"Yes, everything is connected to me. Or if it would be more to your liking, I could call up a coffee from a nearby café that Sir like if you would prefer that?" Jarvis informed him.

"You don't have to do that," Harry breathed out, hurried to put his cup beneath the machine, and stepped back. "This will do just fine. Thank you." Harry smiled and put down the mug as the machine sprung to life without him even coming near the buttons. "Sorry about the toaster," he apologized sheepishly. "I will pay for it."

"Don't worry about it. I have already ordered a new one to be brought up in the afternoon."

Harry thought better than arguing with an invisible voice as he glanced at the fridge, walked over to it, and made an experimental tap on it to see if he blew it up. When nothing happened, he smiled and opened it. The fridge was overflowing with a variety of food, everything from ham, cheese, vegetables, and other kinds of milk.

Harry looked at one container and frowned slightly. Almond milk? Could you do milk from almonds? How did that work? Was it like pumpkin juice? Anyway. Harry put it back and took out the regular milk. He filled his cup to the desired amount of each liquid before sitting at the kitchen island and breathing calmly. There was no point in thinking about what could have happened or what happened. The only important thing is that it didn't happen right now and that they were alive. The next obstacle was to face Odin.

They have no choice but to face the problem head-on. Despite what happened to Loki, they were still his family and the realm he came from, and he would not give up without a fight. They could run away, hide in one of his houses, and probably be happy, but for how long?

After his experience with running away from an enemy, it was easier to take the bull by the horns and make the best of it. He was here now and would fight for Loki tooth and nail if he had to. He would challenge the All-Father himself, if he must, to protect Loki. For Merlin's sake, he would probably take on what's left of Thanos's fleet if they threatened his soul mate.

No one could hurt another hair on his mate's head. If they did, they had to face the master of death.

Harry feels a thrilling shiver run down his mind at the thought. Then, they would learn that death was not the worst thing that could happen to someone. Instead, death would be a blessing for whoever hurt Loki now that Harry was here. And it was not because of the memories and who he was once. At least, that was what Harry tried to tell himself as he fingered the edge of his cup.

Why were people so hung up on death being the worst alternative anyway? There were so many other things that could be worse than death. Death was only hard on the living, not the dead. Harry looked out of the enormous window and continued to think while the coffee warmed his cold fingers.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting there before he felt that he was no longer alone. The first indicator that he was no longer alone was a warm tickling feeling that bloomed in his chest, and then he heard the soft steps walk towards him. He looked up only to be met with a now clean and newly showered Loki.

Loki held out a hand, and Harry noticed a mug appear in his hand with black, newly ground coffee. How he filled up the coffee, Harry didn't know, but he would admit that he felt slightly impressed by the casual display of magic. Loki took a sip of the black liquid and exhaled contentedly as he leaned on the counter and then paused: "What in the name of the nine realms are you drinking?" He asked in a mortified voice.

The question came so suddenly that Harry looked down into his mug, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he maintained a neutral expression. "Coffee?"

Loki now almost looked offended. "No, not with that color. What did you do to the poor drink?"

"What's wrong with my coffee?" Harry asked in an amused tone. Loki wasn't the first to comment on his choice of coffee…. Or milk with the taste of coffee would probably be the best description of the drink. He drinks coffee, just not the pitch-black brew that is bitter and far too horrible for his taste. He liked the slightly softer taste, and milk was perfect for that. Maybe some caramel or pumpkin syrup in it, and it would have been a real winner in his book. Something he was sure his other half wouldn't agree with. Interestingly, this was not something that Harald's memories had covered yet. It made Harry feel like there was something new yet to discover.

"It's almost white!" Loki moved closer and looked down into the very bright brew before looking down into his cup and pointing at it. "This is coffee. Of good quality, I reluctantly admit. Stark knows this stuff," Loki angled his mug containing the almost black liquid, "and you have enough guts to dishonor this lovely drink like that?"

Harry snorted. "Just because I have a little more milk than coffee doesn't make it less coffee."

"A little bit?" Loki commented flatly, "It's more like half milk, maybe two-thirds? Does it even taste like coffee anymore?"

The look of horror on Loki's face made Harry laugh. "Well, yes," he said, "It is exactly right", and he demonstratively took a large gulp of his 'coffee' and made a show of his sigh afterward as he grinned at his other half.

"Perfect!" Harry hummed. "It tasted so much better than that lethal mix you have there. It almost resembles motor oil from here and probably tastes like it."

Loki laughed. "No, my star, the coffee shall be as bitter and black as my soul is to have the right quality." Loki took a large mouthful of coffee, and Harry had no idea how his mouth could stand that heat.

There was a sudden tension in the air. Harry stared at Loki, and it felt like the world was moving slowly for a second. He could see everything so clearly. Everything from how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed to the corner of his eyes cringle as their eyes met over the mug's rim.

Harry realized he had been caught staring at him, but he didn't feel embarrassed about it. Whether he accepted that Harald's soul was slowly pushing him away, or that he was now bonded to this gorgeous example of a man. Harry could stare.

Harry could also appreciate what he got and go with the flow. So, with that, Loki was his to stare at, however much he wanted.

A wave of possessiveness surged through their bond, and Harry noticed a subtle, amused twitch at one corner of Loki's mouth. A warm flush spread across Harry's cheeks, painting them in shades of pink as he felt a mix of embarrassment and fondness.

"And here I thought I was the darker part of this union," Harry forced out in a much deeper tone than before, "being the master of death and all that."

Loki's brow furrowed briefly while he considered it but then shook his head. "Nope, can't see it. You are my light, my guiding star in the darkness."

Harry snorted and shook his head. "Agree to disagree," he said, and Loki hummed.

Loki's hum turned into a soft chuckle, and he set his mug down, his fingers brushing against Harry's as he reached for the sugar. The touch sent a spark of warmth through their bond, and Harry felt it settle in his chest like a steady flame. He watched as Loki's long fingers danced over the jar, the way his nails caught the dim light of the room and shimmered faintly, a reminder of the magic that ran through him like lifeblood.

"You know," Loki said, his voice low and smooth, "for a master of death, you're remarkably… alive." His gaze lifted, meeting Harry's, and there was a teasing glint in his eyes, though it was softened by something deeper, something unspoken.

Harry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And for a god of mischief, you're remarkably… serious." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, though his eyes never left Loki's face. "Though I suppose someone has to balance you out."

Loki's lips twitched, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Perhaps," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But perhaps it's the other way around. Maybe you're the one who's been balancing me all this time."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and Harry felt his chest tighten. He could see the vulnerability in Loki's eyes, the cracks in the armor he wore so well. It was a side of Loki that few people ever saw, and Harry felt a surge of protectiveness, of love, that he couldn't quite put into words.

A comfortable silence settled over them, and Harry couldn't help but let his brain begin to drift. He hoped that Hermione and Ron were fine wherever they were and would not kill him on sight when they regrouped, especially when Hermione heard about the invasion.

Speaking of the attack, with Thanos out of the picture, there would be no evident threat to them for the time being, but Harry felt it was not over yet. The only question now was what they would do with the infinity stones that were still hidden, and what would they do? Would they find the stones and store them safely on Earth? Harry couldn't see that as a good idea. Should they let them be?

"Perhaps we can collect them all and keep them in Asgard?" Loki suddenly asked out loud, starling Harry out of his musing.

He didn't say that out loud, did he?

Loki looked at him, amused. "No love, but you were thinking it really, really loudly. Are you always this loud?" He mused. "Makes me wonder if you are even louder in the bed."

A warmth spread out from Harry's cheeks and down his neck, and he choked on his saliva and could not help but chuckle. "Want to find out?" He teased.

Loki looked down at him, his pupils dilating, making his eyes almost black with desire and need as he leaned lightly over Harry with a challenging smile.

"But," Harry said as he put his forehead to Loki's and looked him straight in the eyes, "we have time for that too. Now I want to know what you mean by taking the stones to Asgard."

Loki closed his eyes and sighed, "It hurts to admit it, but they have a good vault to store… priceless artifacts in." He spoke the words like they burnt his mouth.

"That doesn't mean we can trust them." Harry's tone turned darker. He hadn't met them in this lifetime, but considering everything that happened after Harald's death and their neglect of Loki's needs…. He couldn't see himself trusting them enough to even think of giving them something valuable or having Loki in their presence again.

"If there is one thing, it is that Asgardians do tend to protect their interest," Loki bit out, leaving the fact that he was not included, out of his words.

"Yes, but these are also the people that Harald trusted to keep you sane and alive. Look where that got us. They could not stop you from practically losing yourself and give that woman a chance to….." Harry hissed as he clenched his fist.

The knowledge that Loki had fallen off Bifrost and that his so-called Aunt had done something horrible to his mate made him physically sick. But as soon as those words left Harry's mouth, he regretted them as it looked like he had hit Loki in a rather sensitive spot if the darkness in his eyes told him anything.

"Can you blame them?" Loki sneered as he pulled away, "No one could have fucking stopped me even if they had tried to do so. Why should they?"

"Because they are your family?" Harry said.

"That's the problem!" Loki erupted, his voice a thunderclap that reverberated through the room. The mug in his hand was hurtling through the air with ferocious speed, only to explode into a spray of ceramic shards against the unyielding window.

"Family? HA!" he barked, a bitter laugh slicing through the tension. He flung his arms wide, a gesture of despair and defiance. "None of them ever gave a damn about me! I was just a trophy in their gleaming palace, and once I was shattered, I was discarded like worthless refuse. Why would they care? They don't even possess the capacity to care!" Loki spat, venom lacing every word. His hands trembled violently, a physical manifestation of the storm raging within him, as the wounds of his past remained raw and festering, gnawing at his very soul.

In the morning light, Harry could truly see how tormented Loki was. The sun highlighted the hollowness of Loki's cheeks, casting harsh shadows, and his eyes were filled with deep, troubled emotions, reflecting his fractured state. Harry swallowed hard, attempting to stay calm and steady in his seat. He focused on maintaining their connection, hoping to anchor Loki as his emotions spiraled out of control.

"I know that Thor cares enough to step in and defend you if needed," Harry offered in a low voice.

"You don't know anything!" Loki sneered and wandered back and forth, hand digging through his hair.

It seemed like all of Loki's bitterness and resentment from the past were boiling over. "YOU WEREN'T THERE!" he shouted, flinging out his arm and glaring down at Harry with eyes that were almost completely dark. His chest heaved with each breath, and his arms trembled at his sides.

"No, I wasn't," Harry admitted, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. "And I'll carry that guilt for as long as I live. There's still so much I don't know or remember. But I do know that I'm here now, and I will never let you face it alone."

Loki grimaced, his face contorted with a storm of emotions he could no longer contain. A keening sound threatened to escape his throat, a primal cry of anguish and fury that he barely managed to suppress. The bitter chill seeped beneath his skin as if the very air around him was conspiring to freeze his resolve. It was as if a beast lay dormant within him, a ferocious entity yearning to break free and unleash chaos upon the world.

This inner monster clawed at his insides, demanding retribution for the injustices he had suffered. Yet, to give in to this urge would mean exposing his true nature to Harry, a risk he could not afford to take. The fear of losing Harry once more, whether by revealing the monster within or otherwise, held him back, anchoring him to a semblance of control.

Harry stood up to reach out to him, only for Loki to back away as the touch would burn him if he made contact. "Please, no. I'm, I-I'm not in control right now, and you might get hurt. I won't… I can't…." He floundered through the words.

The air in the room seemed to crackle with the weight of unspoken words, each one a spark waiting to 's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and the shadows around him appeared to twist and writhe, as though alive and feeding off his turmoil. The faint hum of Stark Tower's systems faltered for a moment, a subtle reminder of the delicate balance between magic and technology within its walls.

Jarvis's voice, smooth and reassuring, filled the space. "Gentlemen, I must advise caution. The magical fluctuations in the room are reaching unstable levels. Perhaps a brief separation—"

"No!" Loki's voice cut through the air, sharp and desperate. He turned away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, the knuckles pale against the rush of blood beneath his skin. The room seemed to darken around him, as though the very light itself was recoiling from the storm brewing within.

Harry took a cautious step forward, his eyes never leaving Loki's tense form. "Loki, please," he said softly, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the raw emotion in the air. "You don't have to face this alone. Let me help you."

Loki's laughter was harsh, a sound that grated against the nerves. "Help me?" he repeated, his voice laced with bitterness. "You can't even touch me without risking harm. What could you possibly do to help?"

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, Harry seemed to shrink under their weight. But then his shoulders squared, and he met Loki's gaze with a steady determination. "I can listen," he said simply. "I can be here for you, even if it's just to stand in the storm with you."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Loki's gaze wavered, the darkness in his eyes flickering like a flame in the wind. For a moment, it seemed as though the walls he had built around himself might crack, might let in the light Harry so desperately wanted to offer.

Then, without warning, Loki's body stiffened. His head snapped back, and a low, guttural growl tore from his throat. The air around him seemed to ripple and distort, as though reality itself was bending under the pressure of his unleashed power.

"Harry, I think it would be wise to create some distance," Jarvis advised, his tone tinged with urgency.

But Harry didn't move. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on Loki's, even as the shadows around them deepened and twisted into menacing shapes. "I'm not leaving you," he said, his voice firm despite the fear that tightened his chest.

Loki's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and for a moment, Harry saw something ancient and wild staring back at him, something that didn't belong in this world. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving Loki gasping and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

The room fell silent, the only sound the soft hum of the Tower's systems as they worked to stabilize the environment. Loki's shoulders sagged, and he turned away, his voice barely above a whisper. "You shouldn't have come here."

Harry took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. "I couldn't stay away," he said softly. "You're my soulmate, Loki. Where else would I be?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with emotion. Loki's back stiffened, and for a long moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, he turned to face Harry, his eyes haunted but no longer filled with that dangerous, otherworldly light.

"You don't understand," Loki drew in an almost painfully deep breath, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back in a stretch. He wasn't going to lose control, not now, not when he finally found the lost part of his soul. But what if this was all in his mind? What if he was really broken? That would explain how he could feel so…complete. This was all a dream. Nothing here was real, and when he opened his eyes again, Harry would be gone, his soulmate would be dead, and he was once again lost.

Loki suddenly flinched as Harry touched his arm. The liquid feeling of electricity sparkled alongside his arm, and his eyes snapped open only to stare down at his mate.

"You won't hurt me, Loki, and I'm not going anywhere," Harry said in a low voice.

Loki's breath hitched as Harry's touch sent a surge of calm through him, though his mind raced with the turmoil of his past. The familiar spark of electricity between them was a comforting reminder of their bond, yet it did little to quell the storm brewing inside him. He could feel the magic within him, restless and unpredictable, like a tempest waiting to break free.

"You don't understand," Loki whispered, his voice trembling as he pulled away, though his eyes never left Harry's. The fear of losing control, of harming the one person who had ever truly accepted him, was suffocating. "I'm not safe, Harry. I could hurt you."

Harry's expression softened, his green eyes filled with compassion. "You won't hurt me, Loki. I trust you," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. He reached out again, his fingers brushing against Loki's cheek, sending a shiver down his spine.

Loki's heart ached at the sincerity in Harry's words. He wanted to believe him, to trust that their bond was strong enough to withstand the chaos within him. But the memories of his past, the pain, and the betrayal lingered like an open wound. He could feel the weight of his failures, the fear of repeating the same mistakes.

Suddenly, the air around them seemed to be charged with energy, the Tower's systems humming in response to Loki's fluctuating magic. The lights flickered, and the walls seemed to vibrate with the raw power coursing through him. Loki's breath came in short gasps as he struggled to maintain control, his hands trembling as he raised them, afraid of what might happen if he let go.

"Harry, I—" Loki's voice broke, his eyes wide with fear. He could feel the magic surging, threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't want to hurt Harry, but he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

Harry stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Loki's. "You don't have to hold on alone," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Let me help you. We can do this together."

Loki's heart pounded in his chest as he looked at Harry, the man who had always been his anchor, his strength. He wanted to believe him, to trust that together they could overcome anything. But the fear was still there, gnawing at him, making him doubt everything.

And then, in a flash of clarity, Loki remembered the words Harald had once told him, words that had stayed with him through the darkest of times. "You are not alone, Loki. I will always be here for you."

With newfound determination, Loki reached out, his hand finding Harry's. The touch was like a balm to his soul, grounding him, and reminding him of the strength they shared. Together, they could face anything, even the chaos within him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry repeated, his voice firm. "We'll get through this together."

Loki's eyes met Harry's, and for a moment, the world around them melted away. The fear, the doubt, the pain—all of it seemed to fade into the background as they stood there, hands clasped, hearts beating as one.

And in that moment, Loki knew that as long as Harry was by his side, he could face anything. The magic within him began to settle, the storm subsiding as he found the strength he needed in the man he loved.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" Loki suddenly asked, something deeper echoing in his voice than before.

"Why should I be afraid of you?" Harry asked softly, before shaking his head. "No, I Can never be afraid of you. Afraid for you, yes, but I can never be afraid of you."

"Well, you should be!" Loki bit back.

"Why?"

"Because I'm a monster!" Loki gritted out between clenched teeth. The air in the room had dropped probably a couple of degrees, and a few white puffs emitted at each breath Loki took.

Loki's now dark red eyes stared down at Harry, and he could not hold back the desire that shot through him as he saw them. This was not the pale blue of the mind control. This was something more feral, wilder. The power and madness they held made Harry's skin crawl.

The air around them crackled with tension, the shadows in the room twisting as if alive. Loki's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his chest heaving as he struggled to contain the power surging through him. Harry could feel the magic in the air, a wild, untamed force that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. But he didn't step back. He didn't flinch.

"You're not a monster," Harry said, his voice steady, though his heart pounded in his chest. "You're just... lost."

Loki's laughter was sharp and bitter, and it cut through the room like a knife. "Lost?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea what I am. What I've done."

"I know you're hurting," Harry said, taking a step closer. "I know you're scared. But I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to face this alone." Harry could feel how his chest swelled with unspoken emotions. The raw need to protect what was his, even if it was from himself. There were no words he could say that would change Loki's mind, not right now. But they didn't need words now, did they?

Harry took a slow breath, gathered everything he could glean from his emotions and Harald's, and began to push them over their connection. A low hiss from Loki was a clear sign that it worked. And if that wasn't proof enough, his dilated pupils that made his eyes turn almost entirely black proved it. Loki closed his eyes in an attempt to rile in his emotions.

'You are not a monster', Harry whispered over the link and slowly retched out, letting Loki decide to stay or back away, but it felt like a win as he held his place.

Loki's skin was ice cold to his touch. A spark of magic traveled over Harry's arm as he slowly drew his broken half closer to himself, grounding him. He was not letting Loki's low growl scare him away because he could feel the raw need underneath it all.

Harry was still unsure what the hell had happened, but it felt right as his arms came up around the shaking form in front of him. —ignoring the coldness against his skin. Loki slowly reached out and ran his finger ever so carefully over Harry's soul mark, like it was a lifeline or something.

Suddenly, without any warning, Loki crashed his mouth onto his, making Harry lose the little thought process he currently had as Loki tilted his body to where he wanted him. The kiss was nowhere near gentle. No, it was the raw need and want to feel the other.

Harry opened his mouth and let Loki take over the kiss, and he felt his head start to spin slightly from the lack of oxygen, but neither wanted to be the first to break the connection. Loki maneuvered him with skilled hands while Harry struggled even to remember how to breathe against the force of his assault.

He was like a starved man that hadn't seen food for a long time. Loki's lips were bruising his with such a powerful need that Harry could do nothing but grip the back of Loki's slender neck to stabilize himself. His hands were on either side of Loki's head, and his fingers dug into his hair, keeping him interlocked within the kiss. Loki growled into his mouth, the sound resonating through Harry's body as Loki walked him back to the counter's edge.

Harry briefly felt the sturdy surface behind him before Loki lifted him onto the ledge like he weighed nothing. Harry's legs were placed on either side of Loki's body so that he was stuck between them, not letting go of the kiss as they switched positions.

Harry was desperate for the warmth the other could give him. Ironic as Loki was cold to his touch, yet his mouth was so warm. Harry could not stop himself from dragging his nails down Loki's scalp and neck, earning a noise combining a hiss and a moan, and Harry grinned into the kiss.

That was precisely the sweet sound that Harry wanted to hear more of. He fisted a handful of black hair and almost forcefully tilted Loki's head so that he would be in a more dominant position. Making the other man moan softly, the vibration sent hot lightning bolts straight to Harry's groan as he held Loki closer.

The thrill of Loki's small submission underneath him made him crave more as he was a head taller as he sat on the counter. Harry could feel Loki's hands roaming over his back, playing with his hair that had come loose and grasping at his waist.

Harry could feel the trembling of Loki's hands like he had no idea what he was going to do with them, and at the same time, he could feel the content feeling sip through the soul bond. He broke the kiss, gaining a low whimper in protest from his partner, but it didn't last for too long as Loki started to kiss his neck, putting both of their thoughts into words as he did.

"Perhaps," a kiss, "we should," a nibble that drew a gasp, "move to a more comfortable setting?"

Harry hummed as he felt Loki melt into his arms and let his forehead rest against Loki's. "I don't think that is a good idea", Harry chuckled low, happy that Loki had calmed down and was acting more grounded. "Not right now, at least, or I will probably blow up this whole building with how much technology it is here."

Loki sighed and pulled back slightly, only to look down at him with a resided eyebrow in question.

Harry huffed. "Don't look at me like that. "

"Like what?"

"Like that." Harry gave him an unimpressed look as he poked his brows, making Loki capture his hand only to kiss the inside of it.

"Why?" Loki nibbed on the flesh with his long canine.

"Because it is all new to me, and I have a problem controlling my magic at the moment, or whatever this all is," Harry grumbled as he looked away. "And you are too emotional right now"

"You? Having a problem with magic?" Loki's brow furrowed now in worry. "and I can handle it"

Harry felt his heart squeeze with gratitude for having Loki. It was hard to believe it was real, with Harald's memories and feelings mingling in. Loki was his mate, his partner, his everything. From now on, they'd face the future together. Harry wanted to hold him close, cherish every inch, and connect through their bond. They'd been apart too long.

"No, not that kind of problem. It's more like I'm still adjusting to it, that's all", Harry sighed.

"Is the magic causing you problems?" Loki frowned, and Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Not all the time, but if we do anything more than Kissing, right now, then I might blow out the electricity in this tower, and we don't want that. Give me a few hours to calm down"

Loki pouted, and Harry didn't need to hear or feel anything, but he instantly knew that Loki didn't care about that. He was troubled that for sure, and the words that came out of him only solidified that statement.

"All right, then let's blow it up," Loki said and poked Harry's side, making him squish away.

"No, Loki! Stop it!"

"Yes, Loki!" the black-haired grinned.

Loki's fingers danced along Harry's ribs, relentless in his teasing, and Harry couldn't help but laugh, the sound warm and genuine despite the growing tension between them. He squirmed away, but Loki followed, his touch light but insistent. "Loki, stop! You're going to make me lose control for real!" Harry pleaded, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and desperation.

Loki's grin softened, and he leaned in close, his breath whispering against Harry's ear. "Maybe I want you to lose control. Maybe I want to see what happens when you let go." His words were low and tempting, carrying a daring edge that made Harry's heart race.

Harry turned his head, their faces inches apart. He could see the flicker of mischief in Loki's eyes, but beneath it, he detected something more serious—a craving for connection, for proof that Harry wouldn't pull away.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I have a message for Mr Odinson. Your brother wishes to speak with you and is on his way."

Loki gave away an annoying sound. "For Mimer's sake! why?"

Harry could only agree as they had been interrupted yet again. "Oh wow, cock-blocked yet again by the magic building", Harry chuckled. "How horrible."

"Do mind the next word that will come out of your mouth, or I will silence you in a much different way", Loki groaned as he tried to find the energy to even care.

"Is that a challenge?" Harry asked.

"A promise, now hush," Loki said as he sat on the couch. At least he was not running away.

"Are you going to talk to him?" Harry asked.

Loki let out a deep, dramatic sigh, flopping his head back. "Must I? Can't he see I'm in the middle of something far more important than whatever it is he wants?" His voice was laced with irritation, but Harry could hear the faintest tremble beneath it, a sign that Loki was more unsettled than he let on.

Harry reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Loki's face. "You can't avoid him forever, you know. Whatever it is, you'll handle it. And I will still be here, the question right now is if you stable enough" he asked softly.

Loki's jaw tightened, his fingers curling into the fabric of the couch as if anchoring himself to the moment. "Stable?" he repeated, his voice low and laced with a quiet bitterness. "You speak of stability as though it is something I have ever known. As though it is something I can simply… attain."

He turned his head then, his piercing eyes meeting Harry's, the vulnerability in them clashing sharply with the sharpness of his tone. "You do not understand, Harald. You cannot. You have never had to bear the weight of what I am. Of what I have done. Of what I could still do."

Harry's expression softened, his hand still resting against Loki's cheek. Letting the slip-up of his name fall. "I understand enough," he said quietly. "I understand that you are tired. That you are scared. And that you don't have to face any of it alone."

Loki's gaze faltered, his eyelids dropping as though the weight of Harry's words was too much to bear. "You are relentless, aren't you?" he murmured, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You see the cracks in me, the fractures in my soul, and yet you still insist on believing I am worth the effort."

"Because you are," Harry said without hesitation. "You are worth every fight, Loki. Every struggle. Every moment of uncertainty. You are worth it, no matter what."

The room fell silent then, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside, a distant reminder of the world beyond their fragile, fractured little bubble. Loki's chest rose and fell with a deep, uneven breath, his hands still clenched in the fabric of the couch. Slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing against Harry's wrist, his touch light but deliberate.

"You are a foolish, stubborn, infuriatingly optimistic soul," Loki said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I… I do not know what I will do without you a second time."

Harry's heart swelled at the admission, the vulnerability in Loki's voice striking him with the force of a storm. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against Loki's, his breath mingling with Loki's as he spoke. "You will never have to find out."

For a moment, there was nothing else. No fear, no doubt, no looming shadows of the past or the future. There was only the two of them, suspended in a fragile, perfect moment of understanding. And in that moment, Loki let go of the couch, his hands finding Harry's, his fingers intertwining with Harry's in a silent, desperate plea for connection, for grounding, for hope.

But even as they sat there, the weight of the world outside pressed in, a constant reminder that their peace was fleeting. Loki's thoughts drifted to the golden halls of Asgard, to the All-Father's throne, to the expectations that hung over him like a sword. He knew he couldn't avoid it forever. And yet, with Harry by his side, he felt a spark of courage he hadn't felt in years.

Harry looked down at him, waiting for his decision. He did believe that the brothers needed to talk alone. After all, he wouldn't stray far away from his mate and would come if something happened. The real concern was whether Thor's involvement would mend the already delicate situation or exacerbate it. Judging by Loki's expression, Harry doubted it would turn out positively.

Harry looked at him before sighing softly. "Don't do that, you will invite trouble before it even here " Harry said.

"Why not? He is obnoxious, and talking to him is like talking to a deaf person. No, sorry, that was an insult to deaf people. He is worse, like a big yellow dog that wags his tail, and barks at squirrels." Loki grumbled

"And you are acting like a cat that got his fur ruffled." Harry snorted. "Just speak with him, he might surprise you," Harry said, pulling Lokis's hair away from his face, "we will probably need his help when we see the All-father. If we do. Because if that dickhead will not pull his head out of his arse, I will try to make the Ragnarök happen only to spite him."

A genuine smile tugged on Loki's lips. As he chuckled, "That bad?"

Harry nodded and waved his hand in the air. "That bad!" He echoed, "Because let me tell you this. My memories are still in a mess, but one thing that I know is that no one fucks with what's mine."

Harald's part of his soul or not, if he were going to lose himself anyway, he could do his best to enjoy what chaos he could release on those who deserved it, like the people of Asgard. "So, talk to him. I have a feeling that he won't accept a no, not after finding you alive," Harry said.

"When does he ever that big oaf," Loki muttered.

Harry looked at him and padded his arm. "You got this, and I will go and talk to our host. The sooner you get it done, the sooner we can find time to ourselves," Harry grinned. "And don't kill each other."

"No promises there," Loki sighed as he resigned to his fate.

Harry patted his shoulder, sensing that Thor was approaching, and began heading toward the elevator, grateful to JARVIS for the delay. As the door slid open, Thor emerged with long strides, grinning as he caught sight of Harry.

"Harry! Good morning. Did you already break the fast? I beg for forgiveness that I wasn't here with you. But did you try these delicious sweet pastries they call Pop tarts? They were amazing!" Thor said in his booming voice.

"Good morning, Thor. I'm on my way out," Harry said as he ducked around the more prominent male and smiled. "Loki is all yours", he smiled.

"Good! That's good." Thor grinned as he turned around.

"Oh, And Thor?" Harry suddenly said, stopping the larger male who looked at him questionably now.

"Be gentle with him. He is still not completely stable. Don't push him too much, all right?"

Thor's grin faltered for a moment. "Don't worry, my friend. I will not harm my brother, never again. You have my word," he promised, his voice a deep rumble as he placed his broad hand firmly over his chest, fingers splayed. His eyes locked with Harry's, intense and unwavering.

Harry recognized that look; he'd seen it countless times in the eyes of soldiers who had steeled themselves for battle during the war. It was a gaze filled with unwavering determination and an unshakeable confidence in their conviction. Harry gave a curt nod, his lips pressing into a thin line as he turned away. "Good, or else I will hunt you down and drag you to Helheim myself," he warned, his tone carrying a sharp edge.

"And I would accept whatever punishment you would give me," Thor replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he strode purposefully forward, ready to have a long-overdue conversation with his brother.