Chapter Nine: Training

"If what you say is true, there's a lot we need to discuss." The old man said, quivering hands holding onto the photograph in a death grip. "I'm Brynn, let's sit down to dinner and you guys can introduce yourselves."

The meal was delicious. Alwyn had to close his eyes while eating it. If he thought Wynter's family ate odd food, it had nothing on Brynn. While they ate, Wynter stayed quiet, letting Alwyn and his grandfather talk. They end up spending half the night talking.

The old man spoke to them about his wife, a beautiful woman whose face was prettier than the flowers she tended; and of his children, Eirian, who took after him with an affinity with stone and earth, and Alwyn's mother, Guinevere, who would spend countless hours out with her mother cataloguing plants.

Alwyn was captive by it all, but Wynter didn't seem as enthralled. The shifter was quiet and solemn, letting the other answer all of Brynn's questions. It became obvious to the halfling that they were going to spend the night there and asked if they could retire. He had hoped to pry the reason for the shifters mood from him once they were alone, but the hope was dashed when Wynter immediately bid him good night, turning away from him as they slept. They'd only know each other a short while, but after all the nights they'd spent in each other's arms in the cell, it felt strange and empty to fall asleep alone.

The next morning, Brynn took them into Alfheim to fill the paperwork and make their familiar connection legal.

As they walked into the stone high rise, Alwyn felt a wall between him and Wynter that left him hollow and lonely. His grandfather kept up a steady conversation, barely requiring a response to continue; the babble gave him something to keep his focus from the pain blossoming in his chest.

The office they were led to was nice and fancy, but cold. Kind of how Alwyn had imagined a rich New York lawyer's office would look. The opposite of his father's messy desk surrounded by personal effects. The thought of his father caused his chest to restrict; how was he doing? Was he worried out of his mind? Was he forgetting to eat? Had he started drinking again? An assortment of terrible thoughts bombarded him as he took a chair across from the red-haired agent.

"So, you wish to declare a new family member?" Their nasally voice brought Alwyn back to the present. It would do no good to dwell on his worries. First, he would deal with the fae court, and keeping them alive, then he would focus on his father, and being caught between worlds.

"Yes, my grandson Alwyn, of my daughter Guinevere. He's recently found his way home from the human realm." It felt nice to be referred to as a grandson. His father's mother had passed before he'd been born, and his father's father had dementia, rarely recognized his own family.

"Do you have any legal documentation from the mother certifying this male as a direct descendant of your lineage?" They sounded almost bored and annoyed to Alwyn, as if they were interrupting some fun activity.

"No, unfortunately she passed before she could legitimize her son, we were hoping –,"

"Look, without papers, I can't help you. Get him to pass an initiation trial and maybe I can file that in place of a legitimate lineage form." The worker interrupted Brynn, writing an address on a slip of paper. "They rarely accept walk-ins and appointments are booked months in advance, but I'm sure if you swing your name around someone is bound to bump you up." The ginger gave the group a smile that Alwyn interpreted as to say, 'good luck, now get out.'

The trio spent over an hour at the trial office, Alwyn's grandfather, trying to follow the red-haired representative's advice. He was just about to give up hope when an older judge walked in to start his shift. The gentlemen approached Brynn like an old friend or excited fan.

He listened to their story of the Fae Court and the time crunch they had to get this paperwork done. The judge listened raptly, giving the proper sounds of sympathies at the right times. Alwyn was still certain the judge would tell them what all the other people had; the earliest appointment was next week.

The gentlemen surprised Alwyn, laying a hand on Brynn's shoulder. "I should have an opening tomorrow if I bump the city meeting. They only ask me to attend as a formality, anyway." He nearly felt like crying with joy. Alwyn did not know what these trials would entail, but he couldn't contain the excitement that came from being one step closer to freedom.

On the way back to Gardd Addoli, Brynn explained the trials to Alwyn. It was a series of three tests to see if he exhibited the proper power and that could definitively show he belongs to the family he claimed. The first would test his ability and control over the earth by having him bend stone or dirt; next would test his influence on living things such as trees and shrubs; and the final would observe his ability to take and give life and impose his will on the living earth.

Currently, all Alwyn seemed capable of doing was drawing the attention and attractions of plants, a sort of magnetism that was common among all earth fae and elves. To train Alwyn sufficiently enough to pass the three trials would take every minute of the barely 24 hours they had; so Brynn was going to break his vow and teach Alwyn to create the one thing he swore never to make again; a Stoneman.

Forming its skeleton from plants and infusing them with the will to grow and fix injured limbs would be their first step. Next, he would have to show the halfling to reshape stone and earth to create the body of the Stoneman. He expected this would be the hardest part for his grandson, as it had been for his mother to learn. Last, he would teach the boy to pull life from the surrounding vegetation and channel it into the creature to animate it and give it the will to fight as commanded. The next 24 hours would be gruelling and take everything both of them had, but if it saved the life of the two younger males, he would gladly accept the task.

****

Feel the earth, feel the earth. What did that even mean! What did the earth feel like? Alwyn was getting beyond frustrated as he tried to follow his grandfathers' instructions. It kept trying to visualize the mound of dirt and stone in front of him, he could see himself reaching out to it, feeling it between his fingers as he melded it in his mind, but no matter how much visualization he did he could make the physical mound move an inch. He was trying to stay calm, but if Brynn told him to feel the earth one more time, he would blow his top.

The first stage of the training had been so easy. Well, not soo easy. But the plants were far more malleable than the stone. It was almost like the vegetation wanted to help him, would listen, and grow with him. The stone was stubborn and deaf. He had so much confidence going into this session. Perhaps that had been his downfall. Or maybe something in him was holding back? If there was something, he would wish it would just release. It's a matter of life and death and I still can't do it.

"Calm down Alwyn, deep breaths, and clear your mind. Focus solely on the earth, just feel it's -"

"Just feel it! I can't feel it! It's just dirt and rock, and it doesn't want to move. I can't make it move, okay!" He threw down his arms and stormed out of the training room. Alwyn felt ridiculous standing there with his eyes closed, hands out in front of him imitating some tv superhero. Later he'd look back at the outburst and feel horrible for the way he treated his grandfather, but right now the sense of embarrassment, anger and failure was too strong. It burned through him, consuming every thought.

He barely saw the shifter as he stormed by. Had Wynter not grabbed his arm, Alwyn would have blown by him. But the feeling of a hand on his arm pulled him to a halt. "Alwyn, I thought you were training? What's wrong?" The anger bubbled up farther as he looked into Wynter's concerned hazel eyes. How dare he act all concerned, how dare he ask how he is when he's been icing him out.

"I'm fine," He snarled, pulling his arm roughly out of the shifter's grasp, and backing away from him. "Just leave me alone, you've gotten good at that."

Wynter stood frozen for a moment as the younger all but ran away from him. He'd never seen such anger in Alwyn, didn't think his mate capable of it. When his brain reconnected, his feet were already moving him after the other.

"Alwyn?" He said hesitantly as he peered into their room. The male was sitting on the bed, face hidden in the pillow he clutched. Wynter could smell the salt of his tears from the door, the scent hitting him like a physical blow.

"Just go away," Came Alwyn's mumbled reply. He didn't bother rising his head from the pillow, hoping the shifter would just listen to him. It was bad enough that Wynter was already icing him out, but if he had to explain to the other that he couldn't feel the earth, that he had failed them – he couldn't do it. He couldn't lose the shifter even more than he already had.

"Not until you tell me why you're upset." He tensed as Wynter sat down next to him. His voice was quiet and concerned, and God did Alwyn just want to throw himself into the shifter's arms as he spilled everything to him. But he couldn't, he couldn't throw himself at the white-haired male when he'd made it clear over the last day that he didn't want to be near Alwyn, and he couldn't tell the shifter that he was going to die because he didn't have the power to move some dirt.

The pain in his chest pushed at the anger as it turned inward, and he felt a fresh wave of tears threaten to overflow. He knew Wynter was a good person, that's why he was there checking on him even when he wanted nothing to do with him; so, it wouldn't be fair to cry now and take advantage of the shifter's good nature. So, he sniffed, shoving his eyes closed as tight as they would go, hoping to keep the waterworks at bay.

Alwyn was surprised when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him as Wynter pulled him into his embrace. He placed him under his chin, leaving Alwyn curled around his pillow. Slowly the halfling relaxed, the comfort of his mate's embrace, the warmth and concern easing the tension that had wormed its way into the younger male during training. As the tension ebbed, so did the anger, leaving Alwyn with only loneliness, knowing this feeling of safety was only temporary.

"I'm sorry," He started after a moment. Pulling slightly out of Wynter's arms, only to find himself pulled back in again. "I know you're already mad at me, but I can't do it. I can't get to feel the earth, and you're going to die because of me. Sorry." Wynter's arms tightened around him, and Alwyn prepared to be shoved away, but the embrace only held him closer.

"It's not your fault. Full-fledged Elves have a hard time passing initiation trials. It was a long shot, but you shouldn't give up. You already proven that you inherited your mother's magic, you need to believe in yourself more." Wynter paused, and Alwyn could tell there was more he wanted to say. He waited for the other to speak, hoping it wouldn't be a confirmation of what he feared.

Wynter had told him, while they walked to Alfheim the day before, that those with a soul-bond didn't have to end up together. One could reject the other. It was uncommon, but with how the shifter had been acting, he knew it was a matter of time till he officially rejected him. He just figured that he would wait until after their court appearance, but if they were going to die anyway, why wait?

"I'm not mad at you, I..." Wynter paused again, his whole-body tense as he searched for the right words. Alwyn curled himself tighter around the pillow in his arms, as if to hold his already breaking heart together. "I can't leave here my sister she... so after all this is over... I just want to be prepared for when you leave. At first, I thought I'd make the most of every moment we had together, but as it became clearer that we'd survive, I knew you wouldn't stay. You have your father, and how you talked about him last night. I can't ask you to stay. To be selfish like that, I couldn't, so I just... wanted to be ready. I didn't mean to make you think I was mad or hurt you or... Alwyn, I'm sorry."

The younger was frozen, his mind reeling as he tried to put together what Wynter had sputtered out in one breath. It had to be a dream. There is no way someone – even Wynter – would be so cut up over me. I'm not – Alwyn thought as he pulled away to look up at the other. This time he pulled away easy, it was the pain he saw in the swirling red-gold depths that convinced him; he was just as afraid of rejection as Alwyn was, and just as sure that it would come. Perhaps it was the overwhelming need to assure the shifter that he would never leave him, or perhaps it was the need to assure himself that he wasn't hallucinating, but whatever caused him to throw himself at the other and slot his mouth against Wynter's it didn't matter because the shifter didn't hesitate to return the action.

The pain that had held his heart in a vice dissipated under the pleasure of the kiss. All his guilt, and fears, all his anger and embarrassment swept away by the closeness of the shifter. A strong rightness filled him as he tried to eliminate any space between them. He could almost feel their souls melding into one; this is what it means to be soul-bonded, he decided. He couldn't get enough of the feeling.

They laid there for a while in each other's arms as the two came down from their collective high. Alwyn had always been a little more aware of the shifter than the other people they had come across, but now it was completely different. It was as if he could feel the other emotions, as if he had an internal GPS to guide him straight to Wynter. As the other nuzzled his neck, he knew the shifter had the same radar for Alwyn. The only explanation he could think of to attribute the change was the bond. If they could reject it, perhaps accepting it made it strong, less easily severable. He ran his hand down the arm wrapped around his middle. It didn't matter what caused it. He was happy to have such an intimate knowledge and connection to the shifter.

"You should give the training another try." Wynter's voice caught him off guard. The comment reminding of his current predicament and pulling him from his happy bubble. Alwyn sighed in response, curling farther into the shifter; non-verbally telling him he'd rather stay right here. "Come on, at least one more round of attempts. I know you can do it, and this time I'll be right there. We can work on it together." There was too much positivity in that statement. Paired with the hope and belief he felt radiating from his mate made it impossible for Alwyn to refuse. He grumbled his protest, letting the shifter pull his dead weight from the bed.

They found Brynn still in the area they had been training in. His grandfather seemed ecstatic to see Alwyn's return, and his smile grew impossibly wider when he caught Wynter's arm wrapped around him. He knew it must have looked affectionate and supportive to his grandfather, but he knew the true purpose of the arm was to make sure he didn't back out and bolt.

"I'm sorry I freaked out and yelled at you," Alwyn grumbled as he stepped toward the elder elf. "Would you be willing to give me a second chance?" He figured the answer would be yes, judging by how happy he was to see them walk in, but he didn't want to assume after how rude he'd been.

A soft smile fell onto Brynn's face, "I'm to blame to, it's been a long time since I tried to teach someone to use their magic. I'm rusty. Let's both try this again." Alwyn smiled back at him, happy to hear the unspoken acceptance and love in his voice. With Wynter's belief running through him, and the support in his grandfather's face, Alwyn thought to himself, I can do this.

It was hours later when Alwyn found himself exhausted standing in front of a fully suited Stoneman. He'd gotten a handle on what his grandfather had been trying to explain in his feel the earth. He'd been trying to feel it like he would if his hands were buried in its moist cool grains, but he hadn't stopped to feel the force and energy that made up the substances. Just like the life he'd felt in the plants, there was a life in each granular of dirt, and each fracture of stone. At an even deeper level, he could feel the energy that held the bonds of its matter together. Once he understood and could feel what his grandfather had been trying to get him to find, it was easy to influence it. There was even room for a little finesse, melding the shape of the stone and altering the density of the earth. It still wasn't nearly as simple as getting some vegetation to grow, but once he found the proper focus, the rock wasn't nearly as stubborn as he'd first thought.

It was the last lesson that set his stomach at an unease. He had to feel the energy and life flowing through the nearby vegetation and pull it into himself, killing the plant before channelling it into the creature, along with an infusion of his own will. He wanted to apologise to every plant he hurt and felt guilty at the thrill and strength he felt rush into him as he took their life. There was a limit to the amount of training his grandfather would let him do on this lesson. He claimed it was too dangerous to chance over doing it.

"When you give life and instruction to the Stoneman, you are taking it from yourself. It's why it is so important to pull the life of another plant before giving any life. If you give some of your own life, there is no telling how much will flow out of the connection. You might kill yourself if you give away too much of your own life and will. So, watch and feel how much you've absorbed and how quickly it is streaming out of you." He was so stern, so serious as he looked Alwyn dead in the eye. The younger did not know what would lay ahead of him in the trial, nor what form the exam would take, but he promised he would be as careful as he needed. He refused to die; they were so close to freedom.