Chapter 3: I adore you
Harry slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the cracked ceiling above his bed. It was strange to wake up like this; it was almost... .normal. Usually, he would have these peculiar dreams and violently come out of them, or it was his head that decided to kill him slowly, even in his sleep. It was starting to freak him out. He could swear that sometimes he still could feel the lingering touch of the black-haired prince on his skin as he faded away from the dream.
His magic was no better off than his blasted heart. It was getting more and more reactive and leaked out of him more often than not. But the worst ( or perhaps the best) thing was that he started to feel something, something he could not put his finger on but had to do with the man.
Harry groaned as he tried to push that thought out of his mind. The last thing he needed right now was to get a crush on the imaginary dreamy man, or whatever he could call him. But either way, he would choose the dream man over the other dreams of the war, Voldemort, or even Cedrik's death.
Sometimes he forgot that he should be happy even to get any sleep at all. The torture he had endured had caused some damage to his nerves in both his arms and hands. And some nights, his body would not stop remembering it. But it had been like forever since he had woke up like this, quietly, slowly and at his own pace. It was as if his body and brain had finally agreed to give him a day off.
Harry slowly got out of bed and stretched his stiff body before going and clearing his morning needs. After he showered, he stood in front of the mirror and took in the new changes that melted into his body. His hair was now below the shoulder blades and dripping cold drops along his now light skin.
It felt as if he had been thrown back ten years in time to the Dursleys, when he barely was allowed to see the sun. He wondered if they ever missed him, probably not.
Harry looked down at his wrist where the flower mark had changed again, he stroked his fingers slowly down the new flowers, and it looked more and more like an exclusive tattoo. He let his eyes travel over the rest of his body, taking in the rest of his scars that still were there. Reminding him of his youth, they started to fade into more light silver colors and could easily glamour over. The only imperfection on his skin now was the, still red as the day he had received it, text on the back of his left hand.
I must not tell lies.
Harry snorted; the irony of those words was laughable, considering who now was haunting his night every other day. Yes, he was the boy who lived, and he had scars to prove it, and he was proud of who he had become because it could quickly go the other way. Sometimes he could get stuck at the similarities between Tom Riddle's start in life and his own. Harry took in his whole complexion for the first time as a whole, all the scars that told a history. Harry pulled the wet hair covering the lightning bolt scar on his forehead aside; even that scar had started to fade away in a lighter color after the Horcrux was gone.
He stared into his own eyes through the reflection. The rise had started to show a golden line outside of the viridian green color. He was changing. Harry shook his head and went out and got dressed for the day. Today was a good day; he would not worry about things that he could not control, a hard life lesson he had learned early on. The dreams would come when they would, the changes also, and Harry had both Ron and Hermione in on this; between all of them, they should find anything. He did not intend to sit and wait for them or worry over it anyway.
However, he could not help that a lump had begun to grow in his stomach. Harry left his room behind, and without really thinking about it, he started to walk in the direction of the most familiar energy emitted from. That was another new experience, he had always been sensitive to others' presence, but he had never been able to feel a person's energy and know who it was and their intentions.
Harry stopped in the doorway to the vast library. The walls were filled to the brim with books and bookshelves that hurled up to the selling. A large round window adorned the farthest wall with its glass divided into lots of different colors and moving pictures of fairies and flowers that shimmered in the sunlight leaking in. Two large magical plants hung along with its frame, and among the aerial roots, small points of light appeared in and out. If Harry would concentrate, he could hear the soft sound of giggling, but that could also be his imaginary. Below the window was a large solid table that was as wide as he was long and guaranteed twice as wide, and it looked, and probably was, really heavy.
Harry stepped slowly into the warm atmosphere that the library created and smiled as he walked towards the lonely woman. She was standing bent over all the books laid out in front of her and had wholly swallowed her attention, not even noticing that she was no longer alone.
" Anything new?" Harry asked, making Hermione jump in surprise and turned around with her wand out.
"Harry!" she gasped in surprise as she turned around " Don't do that. What have I told you about sneaking up on me? " she exclaimed, frustrated, and gave him an annoyed glance and tucked away her wand.
Harry grinned, not even a bit sorry that he nearly gave her a heart attack. "Not to?"
"Exactly! Then why do you keep on doing it? I Promise that I will spell a bell on you that will never come off."
"No, you will not," Harry smiled as he walked up beside her, not like he could change how he walked, after the war, some habits were stuck. And this newly developed connection with the hallows did not help in that matter either, not to mention the dream changes. He somehow had more neutral energy than before, and people, in this case, Ron and Hermione, could easily forget that he was there sometimes.
Hermione stuck her nose up in the air. "Try me."
Harry held up his hand in the universal surrender sign and chuckled, never arguing with a woman when she was in that mood. Both he and Ron had learned that the hard way. He looked down on the table before them, and he started to look over her text and the picture she had found. After the last dream, he had told her what had happened, and Hermione had automatically gone into research mode.
"I have been looking up at your mark and the flowers you mentioned from your last dream," she began as she pushed a book in his hand. "The flower on your wrist is a forget-me-not, an ordinary flower that grows in the wild in Eurasia .. "
"Eh, where?"
She sighed, "Europe and whole Asia are more known as Eurasia. Now let me finish. The name forget-me-not comes originally from the German 'Vergissmeinnicht,' which means "do not forget me." Hermione read out loud in the book she stole back from his hand.
"There is a legend dated back to the Middle Ages about the flower. It is said that a knight and his fiancée were walking along a river when he picked a bouquet of forget-me-nots for her. Because his armor was so heavy, he suddenly fell into the water. And just before he drowned, he threw the bouquet to his beloved and shouted, "do not forget me." The flower is associated with romance and tragic fates. Women often wore it as a sign of fidelity and eternal love. " Hermione put down that book as she pulled up another piece of paper.
It was all interesting for lack of words, but he still had no idea why this was important to them, "what does this have to do with the mark?"
"Everything!" she said as she looked up, eyes twinkling; this was amazing. She had never thought she would get the chance to study a real soul brand. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity " The two different flowers probably represent you and your soulmate. Only soulmate pairing can share a soul mark. The more powerful the tattoo color and development is, the stronger and more intense the combining it is. Some texts mention it, the larger and deeper the detail it's, the stronger the bond. The tattoo starts on your wrist and up; most likely, your mate has his on either his back or shoulder. The two sides will pull more and more to each other, and not before you consume, they will not merge. And once the mark is together, you will be bound to each other for eternity. Isn't it romantic ?!" Hermione squealed out the löast part and started to write down her thoughts about this.
"This soul magic is believed to be very old and only reserved for the old families only so there is not much that we can read up upon before we either ask Malfoy or look into the black section. Have you had any more dreams? "
Harry stared down at the flowers she had lost him almost at the end of her squeal. Did he have a soul mate somewhere? But he could not connect the dots of the dreams he had. That is something that probably was either fantasy or happened a really long time ago. What did it all mean? He did not think it was so simple that he only had a soulmate somewhere in the world. That did not explain his changes.
"Harry?"
" Hm? "Harry looked up from his mark as Hermione's voice startled, " Ah, yeah, sorry, I think I did. But It does not make any sense. "
"Magic usually does not," she nodded
"But why do I have these dreams, Mione? Whenever I wake up, I feel something new; remember something that I physically should not. And all of these changes, It drives me crazy. When will it stop? "He pulled a fist of the jet black hair in front of him and then back over his shoulder.
"It is not only that. I can feel my body change more and more. When this all is over, I'm still going to be still me? Or Is the one in my dreams going to take over" he snorted at the last one, like a crazy horror movie.
Hermione stopped what she was doing and looked at him. She had not been thinking about his worries like she probably should have. But what he said made sense, why the dreams? She then started to murmur to herself, making him a bit nervous as he could not follow his genius friend.
"English, please," Harry snapped, here he had a mental breakdown, and she was not helping at all.
Hermione ignored his tone as she looked up at him. "What if we have been looking at it the wrong way?" She asked it as a question but did not wait for an answer. "What if it is past life experience? I think I read about it in the soul bond magic somewhere here. but your changes have to come with some instructions, right?"
"eh, what?" That was it; she had lost it. There was no way that Loki -bloody god of mischief and magic- in his past life had ever considered courting someone like him. "That is not even possible."
"No, no, no, listen to me, Harry. It makes sense, you have a soul mark on your arm, something that is very rare, and your dream started simultaneously as you got it and your changes. It is also said that soul mates follow each other's souls even in the afterlife; they are, for lack of better words, made for each other. Two halves of one soul that are separated into two bodies, but they need each other to be stable. They will always seek each other out, and only with each other, they can be balanced and whole. Perhaps this is you starting to remember, and both your body and mind are trying to fuse? It makes so much sense now."
"No, it doesn't," said Harry and rubbed himself on the forehead.
" Yes, Harry, listen," Hermione walked around the table and picked up a parchment she had put away earlier. "Remember that part of the prophecy. And the Lord of Darkness shall mark him as his own, but he shall possess a power which the Lord of Darkness does not know. What if it not only meant the sacrifice of your mother's love, you've always had a greater affinity with magic than anyone else I've ever heard of. And not only that, the deathly hallows chose you as their bearer. You managed to kill a man that not even an adult, training Auror could do. And the Hollows choose you to become their master, and you're titled master of death".
"Not by choice," he muttered, feeling the pulsation inside his forehead.
"I know, Sorry," she said quickly. "But you have to understand that you've been loved by magic all your life Harry, so maybe ... maybe this is magic and fate's way of giving you your reward, for what you did? "
He snorted and shook his head. "Since when has fate ever been kind to me?" but he hated to admit that what she said made some sense, not much, but some. "And how can someone like me ever have Loki as a soulmate? that is bonkers, Mione."
"No, it's not" His bushy haired friend turned to him," death is all about balance, right? " Harry nodded," and Loki is not only the god of mischief, lies, and magic; he also has the title of being the god of chaos."
Harry sat down on the sofa in the room and massaged his temples that now were pulsating painfully. "What has chaos got to do with it all?"
"Not many people know that wherever there is chaos, things are creating, so if Loki is the god of chaos, he is also a god of creation."
"Please, English Hermione, My head is killing me again," Harry groaned as he narrowed his eyes when the light began to become too much for him
"To stable chaos, you need balance, to create the balance you need death."
Harry let his head fall back on the sofa with a painful groan"why can't anything in my life be simple? I wanted a vacation to remodel the mansion, not remodel myself and get more chaos in my life."
Hermione approached him and conjured a cold, wet cloth and laid it against Harry's hot forehead. "I think that you have to deal with it, and Magic probably has other plans for you than only the changes."
"Love you too," Harry muttered ironically
"Oh, I know," Hermione said without looking at him as she returned to her books. "Shouldn't you try to eat something? maybe soup? "
"Tried, no luck there," he said and held the damp cloth to his eyes that were burning.
Four days and he still could not hold down anything more than a little dry bread and water, but he seemed to be able to do it so far. It was as if his whole body had decided to act against him no matter what he did, so he intended to take the easy way out. And a day without vomiting was a good day for him. He could feel Hermione's burning and anxious gaze, but he ignored it and massaged his temple again.
He had started to remember more and more from the memories, not only when he met Loki, who was apparently Prince of Asgard but also those who were his parents' dream. He more or less had memories of a completely different life, and it made his head explode. It was almost as if he had two people's lives imprinted on the same small space.
On the one hand, he was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived and the one who killed Voldemort and saved the entire English magical society from his tyranny. But the other life he was Harald, a young fae prince, whose life was the exact opposite of Harry's. A happy and lovable childhood, parents who loved him, a snotty sister who seemed to love to tease him but the freedom to choose what he wanted. And if he was, to be honest with himself, he was a little jealous of Harald's life.
"Harry, perhaps we should contact St. mungos? " Hermione asked nervously as she sat down next to him. "I do the best I can, but if you can not eat, and the headache is getting worse...."
"No, I've been through worse, and I can still drink without problems so that we can wait a little longer?" he said as a question, but she knew very well how stubborn he could be.
She was silent for a while before nodding slowly, not that he could see it "alright, we wait another week; if you do not get better after that, you will meet one of the healers. "
Harry made an affirmative sound; he could live with that. He felt the headache pulsate against his temple in time with his heartbeat, and he did not open his eyes again. He could feel the sofa dimp under the new weight of Hermione, and then he felt her legs in his lap as he rested his arms above them. She fixed the pillows behind her back so she could sit and keep him company while she continued reading. He felt grateful that his friends, no family, were there with him when this all was happening to him. He knew that he would be forced into a new dream by the severity of the headache.
The soothing sound of turning leaves made Harry relax more and more; he couldn't help but, despite everything happening to him right now, be curious about what would happen next. It was almost as if he had the first floor for some sappy romantic film. He just hoped that it did not end in tragedy and that the legend of forget-me-not would only be a tragic legend and nothing that would affect Harald and Loki.
Before he knew it, he began to sink into a slumber of relief, free from the pain. Why could he not get one single typical dull and ordinary day?
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Harald was slowly walking in the royal garden. He had woken up early that day and decided it was a too beautiful day to stay in bed all the time. The palace would be awake by this time anyway. He opened the door and frozen in surprise.
There, right in front of his feet, lay an innocent but beautiful yellow peony. A fully developed flower and a fresh scent hit his senses. Carefully, Harald stroked his fingers over the delicate yellow peony leaves and felt the sweet smell rising from the flower yet again. He had kept it close all the way out to the garden, where he now slowly walked along the excavated step and let the calmness into his body. Bumblebees and bees buzz among the flowers along with a small bunch of fairies that looked and laughed as they danced around him as they recognized him as one of their own.
It was in nature that he was born to be; here, he was the calmest and centered. But even nature could have a cruel temperament that no one could control. Much like his magic, and after being stuck indoors for so long, he enjoyed the serenity outside. A smile played on Harald's lips as he again focused on the peony. It was magnificent and was imbued with the now-familiar magic he had begun to love. He knew precisely who had left the flower outside his door. There was no one else.
A pleasant tingling had traveled over his where the mark had started to develop again. Like the feelings for his counterpart, the flowers had reacted to the new development.
He looked down at his right arm, which was now visible to the outside world to view. After he had accepted the bouquet of forget-me-nots by Loki, he had also accepted his courtship, so there was no way he should hide it. So far, he had not regretted his decision.
Apparently, Loki had been looking for him all this time, but since Harald had not wanted to be found, the magic had protected him. After that night on the balcony, they had spent every day in each other's company, just talking and getting to know each other. He could no longer remember what he had been afraid of before.
Harald gently stroked his fingers over the mark, It now went up to his elbow, and small blue forget-me-nots adorned his entire forearm. Between them, golden peony buds grew, each of which was closest to his elbow had begun to strike as the feelings for Loki started to sprout. He caressed his fingers over the last flower, and he could imagine the feel of the same texture on the leaves like the one he was holding in his hand.
Suddenly a warm feeling spread inside his chest made him shiver, of what he did not know, but he could not stop smiling when he could still feel the magic tickle his arm. The mark continued to tingle, and he stared in fascination at it when, right in front of his eyes, a forget-me-not started to turn blue. His heart now beat painfully hard in his chest over what could be meant, and he could barely hold back the stinging sensation of tears that threatened to be pushed out.
Why was he so annoyingly emotional ?! this was not at all like him, but the feeling that grew within him could not be only his. No creature alone could create so much love, and he felt emotionally unbalanced.
He can hear the loud songs and laughter of fellow creatures and Asgardians along the city streets that hid behind the walls. They were now on day 20 of the festivities, and he was starting to get tired and feel more and more trapped. Hence his escape to the garden. During these few days, Loki had managed to nestle closer and closer to him. Besides, Harald could not help longing for the next meeting with the intelligent and resourceful prince. Hear how his day has been mixed with politics and festivities.
It was another thing that Harald could not understand, what was it with the Asgardians and their need to party and drink themselves helpless?. Harald stopped under the hanging birch low branches, leaned his head against the trunk, and closed his eyes. Feeling the nature around him, and started to lose the last of the tensions in his body. The feeling of being observed made him open his eyes quickly and stare down at the red fox sitting in front of him contentedly.
"A fox but still not, should I be worried?" he asked the animal, amused because he would recognize this energy anywhere.
The fox made a small yapping sound and stared at him with jade green eyes. "What have you come up with now?"
In the next second, the fox turned into the black-haired prince who had occupied his thoughts ever since he woke up.
Loki smiled innocently at him. "What makes you think I even did something?"
So he had done something, "because you're that obvious?"
"I obviously? my dear, I think you're mistaking me for my brother."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Lord Thor, I did not know you started planning mischief when you do not run after a beautiful lady friend of yours. "
"Me? chasing after some low lady when I have the grand prize right in front of me? I would think not, " Loki looked down at him over his close and tried to keep a firm face, but his eyes twinkled with laughter and mischief.
Harald laughed as a comfortable heat invaded his chest, and made his pulse racing. "So, who was the poor representative that suffers today?"
"Oh, no one suffered. But that perhaps depends on your point of view and how much they try to hold back their laughter."
"Loki..."
Loki grinned at his little mate and pulled his slender body closer to his "Only one of the old hens who can not stop his cackling when the others were trying to talk, can say that he literary starting to cackling now when he tried to interrupt."
Harald stared up at him with the surprise written on his face as he tried to imagine one of the elders and only cackled. He started laughing and hid his face in the soft tunic that Loki was wearing today and shook his head.
"You are impossible; you know that, right?"
"Thank you. I do try my best."
Harald smiled and looked up at him again and felt Loki drag him closer to his body and his warm fingers started to stroke soft circles on his hips. He tried to hold back the lovely feeling that spread through the contact, and he swallowed hard and let his gaze slide over Loki that was so close now.
The thick black hair hangs down over his shoulders and curls at the end, and the deep jade green eyes were drawn down to his lips to then walk up again towards his gaze
Harald felt a heat spread over his neck, up to his ears and over his cheeks, and could not help beating himself mentally over the apparent heat. Something that Loki had already picked up on and now smiled amused down at him, This could not both be good, or perhaps it was.
"You look a little warm there, little one, " Loki said with a smile that made Harald's legs almost turn to jelly.
"It's ... hot in the sun," he said in a low voice and turned his gaze away.
Harald jerked slightly in surprise when Loki raised his hand and let his fingers touch his temple and let his fingers stroke down his cheek. Loki's fingers felt cool against his hot cheek; it almost felt like a cool breeze passing by them. It took all of his willpower not to lean towards his hand and cradle it, only so that he could feel more. The fingers stroked under his cheek and gently forced his head up so that the viridian green eyes met jade.
"We are in the shadows, no sun here, do you want to try the lie again?"
Harald could not answer. Loki was so close to him now, just a decimeter from him, and he barely dared to breathe. He could feel both of their magic stroking against each other, testing and tentative.
Harald suddenly had the need to hold onto something, and he retched up to Loki's hand and grabbed it, pressing his hand against his cheek. A warm feeling flared up under the skin as his magic accepted Loki's as if it had been his own, a golden hue caressing like a blanket over their skin. He raised his gaze and met the intense eyes that stared down at him. The air vibrates around them.
He wanted to see more, have more, feel more.
Suddenly without warning, Loki pressed his lips against his. The kiss was something he had never experienced before, it was violent and dominant, but at the same time, it pulled out all his feelings and needs. Harald pressed his lips harder against his, the kiss felt wonderful, and everything around them suddenly began to blur out of his mind. It was as if Loki attracted all his attention, sucking it all in, that he was the only one who was there for him and the only one who meant anything.
Six years of imagination raged through Harald's mind, and it took all his willpower to hold back the massive emotions that simmered within him. He had waited six years already; he could make this one count and take it slow, do it the right way. Harald parted his lips, and Loki took it as inauguration to use his warm tongue and invade his mouth. Loki tasted sweet of mead, and an undertone of electricity invaded his senses.
He could feel the warmth of Loki even though only their lips met. It was as if the air between them was vibrating, and he wanted nothing more than to put his arm around him. Harald was not prepared for when Loki suddenly pulled out of the kiss, and just the thought that it would end there made him make a dissatisfied sound.
Loki laughed and looked down at him with an amused and amiable expression, which made the treacherous heat spread in his face. The jade green eyes looked into his, as if they were looking for something, or was it his soul he was looking at? It felt like he could stare straight into it without any problems. Which made Harald feel naked in front of the intense gaze and when Loki raised his hand again as long as he touched those cold fingers at his lower lip
"So eager, but do not worry. It was just a simple taste," Loki hummed, which created a new wave of pleasure through Harald's body.
Harald made a muttering noise, but before he could formulate a few words, his lips were covered by Lokis again, and this time it was a ravenous kiss. His lips parted immediately, and he felt his mouth being invaded by Loki in a way he could never even dream of and could not stop the sound that left him.
Harald abandoned all attempts to maintain something resembling control, and his hands looked up into his silky hair to push him closer. Down towards him, locking him in place. It was as if he could not get enough of the feelings Loki created, he set fire to all his nerves with just a touch, and his lips were no exception.
Cold, strong hands found their way under his shirt and made it go up enough for Loki's hands to move over bare skin. He could feel Loki's smile on his lips and felt the arousing sensation as his fingers stroked along his side. He could not hold the low moan in the kiss and made a surprised sound when Loki had suddenly put his hands against his thighs, just above the knee crease, and lifted him against the hard surface of the tree. With the smooth movement, Harald wrapped his legs around Loki's waist to stay up and felt how the kiss became more in-depth, and the spirit left him for a second. He had ended up ahead higher up in this position, which gave Loki direct access to his neck as their lips had separated.
A gasp left him, and he bent his head to the side to give him better access to the light skin that was exposed under the collar. Loki pressed harder against him, and there was an unmistakable bulge in both of their pants that clearly showed that they were enjoying themselves. Harald locked his arms around Loki's neck and pressed against him so that their hardness rubbed against each other.
He made a sudden surprise, but pleased, noise when Loki's teeth were nibbling at the skin. He felt Loki's chest move heavily and quickly while he hidden his head in Harald's neck. The warm breath was tickling against his sensitive nerves. He let his hand caress through his shoulder-length hair and got a satisfied hum in response and felt how his arms tightened around him.
They stood there for a while, the magic vibrating around them like a warm blanket, and Harald could even see the flowers at their feet that had not been there before, and he gave off a low laugh.
If this happened by just a kiss, what would their magic come up with when they became more intimate? The mere thought made his heart leap into his chest and a new heat spread through his veins.
Suddenly they heard their name from the only god whose voice could make a whole army straightening up. It was the mother's angry voice.
" Someone is in trouble."
" Hush, we are not here," Loki whispered and hugged him harder, and Harald had a problem suffocating the laugh that was trying to escape him as he let his arms close tighter around his mate's neck.
"She will kill us."
"No, only me, she adores you," Loki said as he softly kissed the vein in Harald's neck, making him shiver in pleasure. Perhaps they could stay like this a little longer.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone