Wow you have so many plants," Her voice held a note of surprise. He took a quick glance around his modest room. He did have quite a few plants, most were on the large desk in the corner of his room; school projects that the school greenhouse did not have room for, the others were a mix of plants he helped nurseries take care of when they were dying, or ones he had planted with his mother before she died. Almost every surface was covered in the greenery; even the bookshelf which held most of his textbooks and boxes for his clothing, had little cacti pushed in to fill the spaces.
"I suppose," He mused. Perhaps he should have pushed on helping her study at the library. She had just seemed so insistent at doing it at his place, especially after she learned his roommate worked nights at a Chinese restaurant downtown. There really was no where for them to lay out their homework, let alone another chair for her to sit in while they studied. Guess I will just have to stand. Alwyn thought as he looked over at the desk.
"I see why you're passing Harrison's class now." She said as she examined the Epipremnum aureum hanging by the window. It was one of the few the local nursery had given to him to revive; it was thriving so well lately. Pride filled him as he thought about her being drawn to it; her attention meant it might be ready to find its forever home. He turned back to the desk, thinking of where he could place a couple of the school plants to make room for them. "I so don't have a green thumb; I could totally kill a fake flower." She paused turning from the devil's ivy and plopping herself down on his bed.
"Uhm… Well, it's not really required for Harrison's class," he replied fiddling with the plants nearest his computer, picking up a few and turning to the windowsill. If he shuffles the terrariums over, he should have room for some of these smaller pots. "You're just taking the class as a G.L.A.R.E, right?" He looked up from the plants startled as her hand touched his hip. She had shifter closer to him, legs on either side of his as he had been fiddling with the window placement. Now he was trapped in her grasp, as her ice blue eyes stared up at him.
"Perhaps you could teach me," Something about the way her eyelashes fluttered made him caused his stomach to lurch. It was like looking into a black hole or watching as a black widow bit down on you; fear propelled him away from her, knocking him into the Pachira aquatica.
"You're right, we already have a lot to cover." A breath he did not realise he was holding, huffed out some of his tension seeping out with it. "If we don't get started, we could be here all night." His gaze shot up to her as she climbed off his bed, making her way over to him. He swallowed, normally he would have been flattered to have a girl hitting on him. Especially someone as pretty and popular as the one currently staring at him in what she assumed was a seductive way, but something about this female put him on edge. Maybe she reminded him of his high school girlfriend or maybe it was the way none of her expressions broke the ice of her eyes. Either way he found himself feeling like a trapped mouse being stalked by a vicious alley cat.
Fear clogged up his throat, as his discomfort twisted in his gut. His whole body was tense, but he had nowhere to run. Instinctively his hand reached out for the Guiana Chestnut behind him. Warmth spread through his fingers as he touched the tree, the rough bark grounding him allowing him to breath. Her icy stare and stalking prowl continued to gain ground on him but as the warmth grew in him Alwyn no longer felt like a helpless rat. This was his home; he would not let her intimidate him in his own home. Slowly he felt bravery seep into him and as she reached him, he felt the words leaving his mouth.
She paused, expression hardening, eyes narrowing into slits "What did you just say to me?"
"I asked you to leave." He said even clearer than before, the sudden strength taking root in his stomach. "You obviously have no intent to work on Harrison's class, so you can leave." A guttural growl left her throat as she grabbed her purse from his bed, eyes casting him one more glare before she stormed out of his room. He let out a breath he had not known he had been holding, hand moving away from the small tree. As he turned around, he felt the prior moment fall from his mind, his once lush and beautiful plant was now a dark twisted, and shrivelled mess of decay.
The next week was spent trying to revive the dead plant to no success, he barely noticed the icy stares she sent him in class, or the angered whispers she shared with her friends who also sent him cold glares. Alwyn just could not understand why the plant had died; it had been fine moments before; he just could not figure out what he did wrong.
****
Alwyn woke disoriented and confused, his body wrapped in smooth warm silk. The softest pillow he had possibly ever encountered cradling his head. For a moment Alwyn thought he was dead, but as the world brightened and took form around him the thought faded away with the hangover of sleep dissipating. A rustling next to him grabbed his attention; he turned in time to see Wynter placing a book on the side table. The shifter looked at him with an expression so warm it stole Alwyn's breath. For a moment it did not matter that he could not remember where he was, nor the threat of death that still loomed over his head; all he could see, all he could think about was the amber eyes, and snow-white hair in front of him. A warmth began to spread in his chest, its intensity forcing him to look away for fear of burning up.
The room around him was simple and clean. A matching grey dresser and wardrobe stood along the far adjacent and rear walls; a small white chest sat at the end of the bed. The bed itself was a large four poster frame with tall carved posts made of a dark grey stained wood. It was calming, but lacked a personality; Alwyn could feel Wynter's eyes on him as he took in the room around him, he resisted the urge to turn toward him commenting instead; "Where are we? What happened?"
"Home, we're at my home. You fainted in the courtroom; I didn't know what to do…" The shifter trailed off, he should have seen his distress, he should have done something to help, he should have prevented the attack, he should have… have… Alwyn's hand on his face pulled him from the thoughts trying to form.
"So, this is your room?" the Halfling paused looking around again. "It's cute," He meant it. Besides being empty, it was perfectly coordinated, and the bed truly felt like laying on a cloud. When he turned back to Wynter once more, he was pleased to see the anxiety and guilt had given way to a vulnerable awe. He blushed under the gaze, "So… what now?" The shifter's expression faded as he thought, little did Alwyn know, that very question had kept him up most of the night. Wynter had wandered through his family's library, but the halfling had shown so few signs of his heritage that he did not even know where to begin.
"How about breakfast?" The voice came from the doorway startling both males, as Wynter's sister slipped into the room. She was tall, thin, with beautiful cascading white hair; a small smile on playing on her full lips as she took in her younger brother and the pale raven-haired boy he was clinging to. As if in response to her question Alwyn's stomach rumbled, causing his cheeks to burn in embarrassment.
"Food sounds good," He mumbled, letting himself be pulled out of the bed by the shifter.
"I'll be sure to save you two some food, but don't dawdle these gwyllgi are bottomless pits." She sent them an amused smile before disappearing down the hall.
"She's right we really are, I'll have to give you the speed tour on our way."
Alwyn eagerly nodded, "Lead the way,"
The place was not so big if you considered that all the remaining gwyllgi lived there. Each shifter had rooms like Wynter's, economy in size but where his walls were bare the others were filled with pictures, plants, crafts, or other items with sentimental value. The hallway he was led down held, not the bedrooms, but the Training Studio, the Library, and the Conservatory. It was the last that most excited the botanist. As they passed, he could smell an assortment of fragrances he had never smelt before and could see flowers he had no name for through the glass door. If not for the grumble in his stomach and the pull of Wynter hand he would have paused, entered, explored. Too soon they were past it and stepping into a large cafeteria style dining room.
Breakfast was quiet and tense, a few other shifters were seated at the various counters and tables eating the remains of their food. Even fewer acknowledged them as they entered. Wynter's sister, who Alwyn had yet to learn the name of, sat at an otherwise empty table. She stood when they entered and ushered them over to sit at the plates already laid on the table. Though she did not speak again after they were seated, her eyes watching them as the duo slid into adjacent seating. It made Alwyn feel like she had stripped him naked and was reading a list of every embarrassing or inadequate thing had done and was deciding in what new way she was going to humiliate him. Biting down on the unpleasant sensation he took in the plate of strangely orange scrambled eggs and sausage he was certain had not come from a pig.
She spoke in light tones, but the question after question fired at him enforced his feelings of inadequacy. What things did he like, where was he from, what was his family like, how did he get here, what did he think of their home, how was he liking the food, did he have any plans on how to not get her brother killed; he squirmed in his seat trying to answer what he could, helplessly aware of how little he could actually answer her. When his plate finally emptied, the raven felt a shift in the female's attention, the freedom from her stare was like cold water on sunburnt skin.
"Wynter, may I speak with you?" She asked, a cold edge freezing her light tone. "Alone." She added, steel gaze piercing into Alwyn felt it cutting him to the core. He wanted nothing more than to escape at that moment.
"I wanted to check out that garden room we passed earlier; you guys talk." Alwyn said, shyly slipping from his chair, trying to look as unassuming as possible. He was not usually self-centred, he knew the world did not revolve around him and that they probably had other things on their plates than him and his heritage but as he wandered into the greenhouse he felt as though what she needed to talk to Wynter about was him, and that it was not going to be good.
The Conservatory was splendiferous. The second he entered its vast greenery Alwyn's breath was stolen from him. From within the doors the scents he had caught wind of was so much more fragrant, he could taste their delectable perfumes on his tongue. The whole place was a warm summer paradise pulling him farther into its embrace, with each step the feeling of coming home grew, with it faded the thoughts and anxiety that had plagued him moments ago. As he wandered down the cobblestone pathways, wound his way through the jungles of the strange exotic plants Alwyn lost himself. At one of the adorned tables the halfling picked up a water can, its familiar weighting adding to the feeling of calm and belonging that had enveloped him. Slowly he eased his way through the garden testing the soil for dryness, checking leaves for signs of unwanted guests, and ensuring weak stocks were properly supported. Among the foreign trees, sparkling crystalline flowers, and soft sponge ferns Alwyn allowed himself to drift away and lose track of time, fully consumed in the acts of gardening.
Wynter watched his mate as he gently brushed the leaves and tested the soil of their various plants. The raven looked like he belonged there among the plants, whispering to the vegetation in soft encouraging tones. The last day or so had been hell on the young male, the shifter knew he had been overwhelmed. Alwyn was doing a good job at powering through his emotions, the gwyllgi felt proud at how brave and strong his mate was. Right now, you could hardly tell that the raven had only just learned of the existence of other beings, nor could you say that he was fighting the fae's legal system for hi – their lives. No, looking at him as he let water fall from the plastic can in his hands onto a particularly wilted looking plant, you would think he was a vision of peaceful bliss.
The shifter hesitated to approach; afraid his presence would break the picture in front of him. The plants seemed happier than he had ever remembered. Even when his mother was alive and would spend hours each day planting and caring for the little growths. Their colours were not as brilliant, their stalks were not as straight, even the spread of the flowers seemed wider as Alwyn walked by them. Each stalk seemed to bend toward Alwyn – Wait…
Wynter squinted, watching as one of the vines reached out for him, winding its way into Alwyn's short hair, and around his pale wrists. The other did not seem to notice them as he tended to another plant. It leaves unfolded at his touch, stalk straightening as he whispered to it.
That was his unusual gift, he held sway of the earth and its growing things – and Earth Fae, or some sort of wood sprite. This was the answer they had been needing, the thing that would help them narrow down their search, get into touch with family. A smile broke out on his face as he approached his mate, pulling him away from another plant and nuzzling into his neck.
Startled Alwyn pulled away just enough to turn around in the shifter's arms. Wynter had been sombre, reserved all through breakfast, worried and tense when his sister had said she wanted to speak. Perhaps their meeting had gone well? He turned around in the shifter's arms, looking up into the amber eyes that seemed to hold another new colour every time he looked at them.
"What?" he asked, enjoying the hopeful happiness that vibrated out of him.
Wynter's thumb rubbed along his jaw as he let loose a brilliant smile that dazed Alwyn "The plants love you," He murmured, had that illegally tempting smile not already dazed him the statement would have. His thoughts were jumbled, before he could get them to ask what he was talking about Wynter's lips were on his.
It was unlike any kiss he had had before; slow and gentle and so full of Wynter's happiness. It pulled Alwyn in, and he found he wanted to get lost in this – in the happiness and pleasure of Wynter's presence.
Alwyn had no idea how long they were locked together but it felt like mere minutes before the arrival of the gardener interrupted them, his soft snicker popping their bubble and driving them back to reality.
"The plants love me?" He questioned once he regained control of his air and thoughts. Wynter gave him a small nod, moving him close to the hanging vine, but just out of its reach. The plant reached as it had before, shifting and lifting as it tried to grab onto Alwyn, his eyes widened as he tracked the movement.
"They love you," Wynter repeated letting the raven play with the newly discovered magnetism, "it's the clue we've been looking for. Your relatives are from an earth branch, we just need to find which one."
Alwyn could tell by the way the shifters eyes glowed that he was happy to have finally discovered something useful. But something else was hidden in those amber depths, something Wynter's joy was attempting to cover. Alwyn wanted to ask, but as he turned to look at the shifter, he could not bring himself to do anything that might damage the fragile joy he saw looking back at him, so instead he smiled as bright as he could.
"Let's get started,"
They spent the rest of the morning in the library going through book after book of Earth Fae family biographies looking for something that could work with what they knew of Alwyn's plant manipulation. The task was turning out to be harder than they thought. Out of the 164 different branches of Earth Fae there were 94 that had earth manipulation and out of those 94 branches hundreds of families were listed. There was only so long each of them could sit looking at photo after photo, reading story after story trying to figure out where Alwyn's family line led before the monotony turned to restlessness.
On their breaks the two talked. They talked about the trial, about how Wynter convinced them that Alwyn was not a trapped human, which in turn led them to discussing the tattoos. The halfling had so many questions about the strange marking that had plagued him for several years now. He wanted to know why he had one, wanted to know why it was Wynter's name, wanted to know why Wynter had his, he wanted to know why Wynter's was a different position but more importantly he wanted to know if they meant what he thought they did.
Soulmates, the word had hovered around the peripheral of Alwyn's life for years. Some days he looked down at the mark, at the elegant ways the letters curled and twisted around each other, and he would dream. He would imagine that he was in some cheesy fantasy story, where everyone had tattoos, one that would lead them to their true love – to their soulmate. He would dream about finding his soulmate, what it would be like to find them, the love that would flow, the excitement. But then reality would always come crashing back in again, soulmates did not exist, humans were not bound by fate, he was just him, and this tattoo was just some strange mark he had to live with.
But now he felt himself sitting on the razors edge, on one hand all the fantasies and hope he had that his dreams could come true, on the other the crushing cold of reality. He hesitated to ask the question not sure he wanted to chance being knocked to the wrong side, but under the soft gaze of Wynter's amber eyes the halfling steeled himself – even if soulmates did not exist in this world either he knew that Wynter cared for him, at the very least their kiss in the conservatory was real.
"What do these tattoos mean?" Wynter looked at him for a moment, his expression un-reacting to the question as he tried to come up with a good explanation without overwhelming the younger. Alwyn head his breath while he waited, the pressure of this moment worse than the fear of waiting in that cell, worse than the countless books awaiting their return to researching. Perhaps I should not have asked, he thought wishing now that he could take back the words hanging before him. I should have just let the topic drop and let us return to the books.
"They are the marks of the caidreamh," Wynter said finally breaking the silence that was wrapping around Alwyn. "They appear when our magic begins to settle and mature, and they help us find the person best designed to complete our story. Two lines of red ribbon become one when the caidreamh ritual is completed. It's something everyone in Annwn looks forward to, some Fae through huge balls in celebration of the marks arrival; hoping to find their match right away." Red eyes watched as he took in the information, digested it, and struggled to hold onto the hope that wanted to burst forth. It sounded too much like what he had wanted to hear, but that word (cay-dream?) What did it mean? Was its synopsis with what he hoped? Or was it different, did it have a platonic meaning? There is only one way you are gonna find out, He told himself.
"So… I am your cad - cad ray - whatever you said. Which makes you like my… soulmate?" Once again, he found himself holding his breath. Hoping and trying to crush that hope all at once.
"Yes, you're my caidreamh, my second half, my soul brand, my soulmate," Wynter watched as the words took root in his mate's mind, their meaning soothing his pain and anxiety. For the first time since his daydreams began reality had not come across to squash them. Sure, it was not this grand meeting where they ran into each other's arms like desert travellers finding water for the first time, but with every touch Alwyn could feel a molten lava coursing through him warming him and calming him. He thought back to waking up in the woods, eyes meeting Wynter's for the first time. He had not been afraid of the strange giant dog, but for it; perhaps that was this bond?
He was pulled out of his musing by the Gwyllgi's voice "Which is why I will find your family, and we will beat this deadline." Alwyn nodded, matching his mate's determined smile. There was not time to bask in this moment, first he had to save them and the only way to do that was through these books.
"Let's get to it," He smiled picking up the book in front of him and smiling across to Wynter who had done the same. Once again, they found themselves buried in records.
Hours passed, morning light giving way to afternoon, noon giving way to dusk. Wynter watched Alwyn from across the library table as evening sun filtered in through the buildings-stained glass windows. The colours fell onto the younger male, highlining his features in a way that showcased slight changes in Alwyn's appearance; his short hair had darkened, the ebony strands seeming denser than before; his ears seemed slimmer, longer, the tips starting to sharpen; his normally chestnut brown eyes taking on a wooden look. The magic of being here was interacting with his spark, making Alwyn look more like the fae he descended from. His appearance was not the only thing changing about him. The longer they spent in the library going over book after book without getting any closer to narrowing down which family he may be a part of, the more his spirit was slowly crumbed, and it was killing Wynter to watch.
"Come with me," Wynter said suddenly, the deep resonance of his voice startling Alwyn as it broke through his concentration. He tilted his head in confusion at the shifter, they had not spoken much since the caidreamh conversation. More than once Alwyn had found his mind wandering to their moment in the garden. With Wynter's focus directed to the book in front of him, eyes downcast, two feet of space between them at all times, it seemed impossible that the moment, the kiss, had actually happened; but now, with those amber eyes focused on him, hand reaching to pull him from his seat, he felt the same buzz tingle through him again and was helpless to resist its pull.
Was this the soul bound? He wondered at the energy sparking between their clasped hands. "Where are we going?" Crimson and gold swirled playfully in Wynter's eyes as he pulled them out of the library.