Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Alfakyn	By : blade-of-the-shadows Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 13884 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: If I wrote Harry Potter...believe me, you'd know. But I don't so props to Rowling and I DON'T make any cash from this.

Chapter List
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Harry stood. Back ramrod straight, body perfectly aligned, eyes focused. He took a deep breath, felling the familiar essence of the Istalri build up and swirl around him.

His fiery arrow was notched, his bow hand steady. His hand burned slightly, a sign of his use of his affinity. He took a second breath; increasing the power in his shot. And suddenly, with a loud twang, he freed his arrow; watching it fly across the field, nothing but a blue and white streak of hot flame. His target landed directly on the bulls-eye, catching the position a second before the whole thing incinerated.

Behind him, Moltagh whistled loudly. The large man came up beside Harry's slighter one, placing a muscled hand on his shoulder. "Harry, you little runt. You sure can pack a punch, if you know what I mean. But remember your goal. You must shoot a fire arrow without burning up the target."

Harry nodded slowly, a bit peeved. Why does it matter if the target burns or not? They're going to die either way. The ebrithil clocked him upside his head, scowling as if he read Harry's thoughts. "You know exactly why you have to do this. Don't look at me like that, you do. The point is for you to gain control over yourself. The Istalri is a very free element. If you have control over yourself, the better focused your connection with the Istalri becomes." His gazed softened as he looked down at Harry's exhausted state. "Get some rest for now. Later we will work on your breathing. The Istalri is a hot element, ya know? It very easily steals your breath, no?"

Harry nodded, his eyelids heavy. If he could only get a hour or two of sleep. He just needed to close his eyes for a minute...He was jolted awake as Moltagh laughed and pounded a large hand on his back. "Go get some sleep, boy. Be back by sunset."

Harry brightened. Sunset! That was about four or five hours away. Harry turned longingly to the castle, zombie walking to his and Amelia's bedroom.

Another year had passed and Ajihad had not yet made them leave the room, but still they were on high alert. No way were they going to be separated. It was a month till their 13th birthday and they would most likely spend it training, so they tried to make the most out of the time they had to themselves with each other.

Amelia was already in their room when Harry entered, reading a book curled up on the love seat. He walked straight past her and flopped on the bed with a moan. He didn't even have the energy to remove his clothes.

Vaguely, he heard Amelia move behind him; closing the book and moving off the couch. She carefully slipped his shoes off and rubbed his feet; he moaned quietly in appreciation. When she finished there, she moved beside him, carefully pulling his shirt off-no help from him, thank you very much-and massaged the kinks developed in his back from standing in the same pose for hours.

Harry moaned again and began to doze off. Amelia began humming a soothing tune, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

Harry woke five minutes till sunset. Amelia was no where to be seen and his clothes were removed. A set of fresh clothes sat folded on a chair beside the bed. A note laid on top.

Harry, love...

You were sleeping so peacefully that it broke my heart to try to wake you. I know you haven't been sleeping well because Moltagh is being an ass. Which reminds me, he'll be pretty pissed if you were late so I went ahead and set an alarm to wake you a few minutes before. You never really cared for your appearance so I know that it's more than enough time for you.

The clothes are for you; I took off your other ones because they were all stinky and sweaty. Don't push yourself so hard again, no matter what Moltagh says. He has no right to do that to you when the rest of us only do half of what you do...on slow day. I know you're a Hikka Staja and all but please.

Love you,

Amelia

Harry smiled and shook his head. Amelia had began to worry about him after his practice as a Hikka Staja for the first time left him covered in bruises and welts; he slept for almost a week. Ajihad had ripped a new one on Moltagh and his lessons eased up a little but his sister still worried about him 24/7.

He stood and stretched; Amelia's massage really helped to ease his muscles. He dressed quickly and headed immediately for the secluded area designated for him by the ebrithil to practice.

As he walked through the halls of the castle, and later through the roads of Du Weldenvarden, many people stopped and tried to speak to him or just waved a hello. Most of them just stared at him with their mouths gaping open. Harry couldn't tell why, but he was sure it had something to do with his appearance.

It was indifferent to him, but the past year had begun to change Harry. His hair was much longer; now brushing his waist, though it was still tied back by a leather cord at his nape even though it was so wild, many strands came loose to curl around his face. His green eyes darkened and were greatly emphasized by the paleness of his skin. He was slightly taller to, but still shorter than Amelia. Hikka Staja training formed small muscles on his lithe body; making him not 'skinny' but 'lean'.

Many tried to court Harry, men and women both, but none appealed to Harry. It wasn't that he was being picky, it was just that he couldn't feel anything but familial love for the people. It might have been because of his young age, but many thirteen year old's had at least had a crush before. Harry knew for sure Amelia had a crush on Moltagh, which Harry was perfectly fine with since Moltagh was only twenty two.

The nine year difference wasn't that much of a big deal since alfya lived a very long time, the oldest recorded to be over a thousand years. Ajihad, of course, wouldn't like it if he knew. Amelia planned to wait until she was at least sixteen to actually confess to him, that is, if she still liked him and Moltagh was still alive. Many alfya waited until their sixteenth year because that was the year they became Masters of their type.

Harry, on the other had, had not felt anything for anyone. It's not like his choices were limited, there were an abundance of alfya in Du Weldenvarden, but no one ever made him really feel anything extreme accept for his family. Hopefully, someone would appear by his sixteenth, someone he never met before.

Harry sighed. With my luck, I will be mated many years after my sixteenth and to someone horrible.

"Well, well, boy. What's got your face all bunched up in a frown? Surely not my lessons. Are they to boring for you?" Harry, startled, jerked his head up just to smash it straight into a broad chest. The body belonging to the chest shook with deep laughter; arms steadied and pulled Harry back. Moltagh's rarely smiling face looked down at him in amusement.

Harry stared back, shocked. What has made Moltagh so happy that he's smiling during training? Hell, what has him smiling in general? He stepped out of the man's arms and and looked around skeptically. Maybe Moltagh had planned to embarrass him for amusement and was smiling to throw him off. Or maybe he wanted Harry to believe that so he would put his guard up and turns out it was nothing and Moltagh got amusement from watching him act so serious. Or maybe-...

Harry shook his head. Stop it Harry. You have got to stop thinking like this. Who knows why Moltagh is so happy? It might not have anything to do with you.

"Oi, oi! You still haven't answered my question, runt." Though he was still smiling, Moltagh's voice had become deeper. Usually that was a sign of irritation.

"Nothing, it-it's just...I always wondered why everyone keeps coming after me even though I show no interest." Harry quickly blurted out, accidentally telling Moltagh the truth in his rush. Said man raised an eyebrow, his smile widening into a smirk. But Harry immediately saw pass the smirk; seeing the sadness in Moltagh's eyes made him step closer to the man in concern.

"Moltagh? What is this? Why are you sad?" Moltagh stepped back, his smirk turning into a frown. Harry took a large step, pulling himself flush against the larger man. He grabbed his arms and held him still. Moltagh scowled, marring his features. Contrary to his actions and voice, Moltagh was actually a very handsome man.

Dark, icy blue eyes that usually only warmed slightly when either Harry or/and Amelia was around contrasted his dark auburn hair. Dark stubble lined his jaw, giving the man a rough look. Olive toned skin stretched taunt across hard muscles and all 6'7 feet of him gave off a aura of danger. Moltagh's greatest and most known trait was his passion. Though not always positive, Moltagh was passionate in everything he did. Rumor has it that the ah...bedroom was also applied to his passion.

Shaking his head of the thoughts, Harry focused on Moltagh; using his eyes to decipher the cause of the sadness in the larger man's eyes. Moltagh turned his head, averting his eyes so Harry couldn't look into them. Harry was known for a bit of Seeing; every alfa had the ability but it was usually strongest with those with affinity for the Istalri.

"It is nothing that is a concern to you, boy. Go train. You know what to do." Moltagh's voice had become even rougher, his anger level rising; the sadness in his eyes replaced with a angry fire.

But still, Harry tried. "But, Moltagh. Please, tell me why you suddenly-"

"Don't. I told you to go train. So. Go. Train!" Harry recoiled and quickly made his way to the middle of the clearing; sitting cross-legged on the grass and closing his eyes.

It took him a few tries to calm down, but finally he did and began to practice his breathing exercises while summoning the Istalri. His mind was a jumbled up mess. He had heard Moltagh use that tone of voice before, but usually only when he was really, truly pissed and never to Harry. Harry did a lot of things that warranted the man to use that tone but he never did. He usually clocked Harry upside his head and berate him for doing whatever it was he did.

All Harry wanted to now what was wrong. What did I do? Was it something I said? I-I wish I could take it back, whatever I did. I hate for Moltagh to be mad at me. Harry banished the thoughts and focused on his breathing. No use to piss off the man anymore than necessary.

Soon enough, though, it was late and Harry peeked through his lashes, wondering when Moltagh was going to end his training. What he saw nearly shocked him enough to open his eyes.

Moltagh sat staring at him, eyes once again sad. There was such sadness on his face that Harry immediately wanted to go and comfort him. It was killing Harry to see his friend this way and he wanted to help. But what could he do if Moltagh pushed him away every time?

Harry sat next to Amelia, the two of them giddy with excitement. It was their birthday that day and the ebrithil decided to give them the day off. Being the two strongest students did have its perks. They would spend the whole day preparing themselves for the party that would occur later in the evening.

The best seamstresses and designers were there. The most loyal of servants and maids there to assist. Many people milled about the castle, equally excited about the party.

The birthday parties of the two alfya were legendary. The two were natural troublemakers and therefore had best parties since nothing was restricted or criticized. They began in the evening and didn't end till morning, and all were invited though Harry and Amelia only hung out with their main friends, which included Moltagh.

Harry frowned slightly. Moltagh hadn't spoken to him properly since that day a month ago; either speaking one or two words to Harry or relaying longer messages through Blodhren. His training was no longer supervised, leaving Harry to practice on his own with no one telling him if he'd done wrong. Amelia offered many times to help him, but Harry denied her help. He wanted to show Moltagh that he could do things on his own and wasn't weak.

"Harry? Stop worrying over Motagh. He just being an asshole. Who knows why? I mean, it's Moltagh." Amelia interrupted Harry from his thoughts.

He turned towards her. "Right. An asshole. Usually, I would be fine with that. But he is only being an asshole to me. And what did I do? Nothing." He threw his hands up in frustration. "I mean, he won't even talk to me anymore Amelia. And we've been friends with him since, like, the beginning of time. He was our friend before we were even initiated into the Sverdar gedwey ignasia."

Amelia sighed. "I know, Harry. Well, this is what you can do. Cheer up and make yourself all nice and pretty for the party and then you can talk to Moltagh and try to woo him into telling him what's up."

"Ok there are to many things wrong with what you just said. One, I am not pretty. Two, why would you tell me to woo him, you do it you are the one who has a crush on him. And three, come on, woo Moltagh?"

Amelia's cheeks reddened. "I don't have a crush on him, Harry! And...well, yeah I guess you are right. It is a pretty far fetched idea to try and woo a guy like Moltagh. Especially with just a pretty face and in one night." She sighed. "Well then, you have to buck up. Try not to be scared of him-don't look at me like that so what if he really is that scary."

Harry rolled his eyes, hating himself. "Yeah alright, fine. Come on, I want this day to end already."

~~A few hours later, during the party~~

Harry was ready to explode. One hundred to many people has walked up to him and told him he looked good.

What, did they expect me to come down looking like bum or something? He snorted in disgust. Amelia, who had felt his tension earlier and stayed by his side, squeezed his hand lightly. He turned to her.

"Harry, love, relax. So what if these people are too dense to realize you are angry? Don't let them get to you. Have fun. Besides, you do look really hot."

Harry sighed, regretting letting Amelia coerce him into spend the day primping for the party. Someone spent a whole hour brushing his hair and the result was this bouncy, shiny, curly mess on his head. The mess wasn't the maids fault, it was just about impossible to straighten it out. Amelia hid all the leather cords and silk ribbons from him and forbade him from ripping up some cloth to make one, so know his hair flowed down his back and curled around his face.

His skin was scrubbed so much that Harry thought he had lost a layer of skin, but instead it was glowing more than usual. In the past two years, his skin had darkened but it was still pale, much to Harry's displeasure. Amelia had gorgeous mocha skin from her father that always glowed with health, but Harry's was white and pale and he hated it. Everyone else loved it and wished they had his skin.

Amelia had forcefully dressed him in tight, black bottoms and a dark green...shirt-thingy. Harry was confused by it. The shirt-thingy was sort of like a shirt-it did cover his upper body. But it was cut open down to his belly-button; clearly showing off his Istalri Yawe tattoo on his chest. The sleeves started off tight on his biceps and loosened to flow down his arms and pass his hands to dangle uselessly. He hated it, but it made Amelia happy.

"Oh. My. Gods. Harry!" Amelia breathed, grabbing Harry's arm and jolting him from his thoughts. She pointed a finger. "Harry, look."

He turned and gasped in shock. Moltagh appeared, looking just as uncomfortable as he felt. Though, Harry had to say that his attire was a bit less...revealing. He wore a simple button up shirt and dark blue bottoms. His hair was brushed and his stubble...somewhat shaved. He looked good. Harry thanked the gods. At least some of the attention would turn from him to Moltagh.

"He looks great, Amelia. I don't know why you won't just approach him now. So what if you are thirteen? Tell him now and if he accepts, ask him to wait another three years." Harry grumbled out the last words. He still didn't feel to well about his own affections...or lack thereof.

Of course, Amelia looked gorgeously stunning. A slim black dressed covered her bodice; tightly clinging to her upper body and loosening to flow from her hips to brush the ground. A slit rode up her right leg to her hip; flashing leg every time she moved. Her curly hair was somehow tamed into a bun, a few tendrils creeping down to curl around her neck and face. Many people also came up to her to drown her in compliments. But, unlike Harry, she loved the attention.

"No way. Besides, right now you need to talk to him more than I do. He is jeopardizing your health by neglecting his duties as your ebrithil. Go talk to him, Harry. And even if he won't tell you what's up...at least try to convince him to teach you properly again." She looked at Harry fiercely. She really was worried about him, Harry could see it in her eyes.

He sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright. Fine." He let out a forceful gust of air. "I'll talk to him-"

"Right now."

"Right n-wait, right now? He just got here, let the man relax."

She rolled her eyes. "Harry, no way is going to relax-look at him! He's tenser than a nun in a brothel. If anything, you talking to him will relax him."

Harry sighed in defeat again. "Fine, then. I'll go." He squared his shoulders and marched towards his target.

Moltagh turned just as Harry reached him, his eyes widening in surprise before lowering into an indifferent mask. Inside, Harry grimaced but his face was stretched in to a slight smile, though he couldn't help but close his eys.

"Runt? What do you want?" Moltagh's rough voice washed over him and he sighed.

"Moltagh...I-I need to talk to you. Right now."

No, Moltagh will not replace Blaise. Yes, I have been thinking about making it a three-way relationship. Who said alfya couldn't have two soul mates? It would go perfectly with an idea I have but I won't do if you guys don't like so give me your opinion pls. Oh, don't worry about Amelia's crush-a certain snobby someone will appear for her.
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The Alfakyn