[Please. Don't insult Asgard. Laughter is a good sign. It's enough to make Yuan almost joke; but the renewed hold on him says Kratos is still very lost.]

[He doesn't know what to do with any of this. Four thousand years and it hasn't prepared him very much at all for this situation, except in how well he knows Kratos.]

[Arguments, even those with fond underpinnings, will only get him so far here.]

[And then that errant thought, and Yuan scowls gently into Kratos's shoulder, reaches up to tug his hair lightly. Just enough to get his attention. The less Kratos spirals within his own thoughts alone, the better. For pity's sake, if you were going to develop shame about being human, you had centuries to do it in. Don't start now. Everyone in this house understands that some things take time to heal. Or they had best, or Raine will sit them down and lecture about it, and has done in the past. She heals magically; she's aware of what can and cannot be fixed in a night.]

[Peace, Kratos. Peace. It's enough. Yuan's mental voice carries calm with it, a steadiness that is in some ways more solid than he's been before. Walk before you fly.]