fanfic: Lost and Found (5)
Author: Georgia (Merlin'sGeekyFan)
Description: In the land of McKinley a beautiful prince lies hidden, waiting for his true love to kiss him back into the world. Lord Dave Karofsky is determined to do just that.
Pairing(s): Kurt/Blaine, one sided Dave/Kurt, very vague reference to Azimio/OFC (Kelby)
Warnings: The most raw writing you'll ever see because I couldn't find my friend to beta it for me :D
Rating: PG
Word Count: 7,728
Author’s Note: Written for The Kurt_Blaine Hiatus Gift Exchange, hope you like it mothergoddamn ! :D
Disclaimer: I don’t own Glee, but if I did I'd just let it die after the characters graduate rather than drag it on with second rate plots and new uninspiring characters *glares at Murphy*
No one noticed when Blaine left the castle. He mused that perhaps the other servants had bemoaned him shirking his duties, but he was certain no other mind would be paid. Face set in determination and chin raised high, he marched through the woods in the valley that separated Legere and Forelærand. He’d been trudging through the brambles and thick undergrowth for two days now, hoping for the faintest glimpse of Prince Kurt. All the while, he was keenly aware of Lord Karofsky and his knights chasing after him, or rather, Prince Kurt, on their swift stallions. Every night Blaine scrounged a few hours of rest, curled tightly in a ball beneath his single tattered coat, too afraid of being noticed to light a fire. Already his supplies were dwindling, having only had time to snatch two stale rolls and a small wedge of hard cheese from the kitchens, and he thought to scavenge some sour apples from the trees on the edge of the forest.
On the morning of the third day, Blaine was almost ready to give up. Prince Kurt had a full day’s walking ahead of him, and Lord Dave was sure to catch up soon on his steed. His shoulders were slumped and eyes tired as he wandered upon a small lake, clouded with mud and grit. Wrinkling his nose, he sluiced the water through his hands and onto his dirt-crusted face, letting the droplets filter refreshingly through his curls.
‘Blaine?’ queried a soft, croaky voice. Blaine whipped his head around, water droplets sputtering from his hair and leaking down into his lashes so his sight was blurred. Hastily, he rubbed the moisture from his eyes and squinted towards the voice. Poking out from behind a large boulder at the waters edge was Kurt. His clothes were ripped, his hair unkempt beyond recognition, but it was indisputably Kurt. Blaine shuffled closer on his knees until they sat together, leaning against the boulder.
‘Kurt, I-I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?’ Kurt nodded quietly, eyes immovable from Blaine’s face. And then their lips were pressed together tightly, hot tears splashing between their touching cheeks. Kurt pulled away with a sniff, wiping at his cheeks with his dirty sleeve.
‘I’m so s-sorry Blaine.’ Kurt threw himself into Blaine, wrapping his arms with surprising strength about Blaine’s waist. Shocked, Blaine groped his hands in the air behind Kurt for a moment before he responded, folding his arms around Kurt and holding him close. The prince wept messily against Blaine’s shoulder, snuffling noisily as his runny nose threatened to rub against Blaine’s tunic. Gently, Blaine smoothed a hand through Kurt’s tangled hair, working the knots loose with patient care.
‘Kurt,’ Blaine murmured against the shell of Kurt’s ear, ‘It’s okay. Really,’ he insisted, as Kurt shook his head with a weak sound of protest, ‘I do understand. At least, I think I do. You thought Lord Dave was a prince, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, pulling away slightly as he nodded, ‘but you must understand, that only made a difference to me because I was thinking of my kingdom. I thought if he was a prince we could have an ally, that we would have trade and be safer and-’ Blaine pressed a muddy finger to Kurt’s chapped lips and smiled.
‘It’s okay.’ A silence pervaded the clearing for a minute, a soft breeze drifting past the embracing pair.
‘Kurt, I know it’s sort of silly now but, I just wanted to say… I lo-’
‘Step away from him servant!’
Together their heads snapped to the sight of Lord Dave Karofsky, red faced and panting beside his chestnut horse, pointing the tip of his sword at them unwaveringly. Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt, to the point of bruising his alabaster skin, and pulled the slender prince behind him. Perhaps twenty feet away, Karofsky glowered and stabbed his sword forward into the air forcefully.
‘N-no,’ Blaine said shakily, ‘I won’t let you hurt him.’
‘I said away servant! He does not love you, he is mine!’ The impassioned words stopped both Blaine and Karofsky dead for a moment, but the same couldn’t be said for Prince Kurt.
‘I am no one’s!’ he exclaimed angrily, rising from his spot behind Blaine, who felt his heart sink bleakly at Kurt’s words, ‘I am no possession, and I will not let either of you treat me as such.’
Bashfully, Blaine bowed his head and sunk away from Kurt’s livid glare. He wanted to explain himself, but the words jammed painfully in his throat until his lips pressed shut. Lord Karofsky seemed to have no such qualms, and stepped ever closer to them, so they could see the sweat rolling down his neck under his leather jerkin, and the enraged glint in eye. His eyes softened just slightly as he turned to Kurt.
‘My prince, this servant,’ he spat the word disdainfully, glaring at Blaine as he did, ‘has hoodwinked you; he is nothing but a vile trickster. Come back to Legere, I’ll care for you, you’ll live in luxury, you-’
‘Will be miserable.’ Kurt finished solemnly.
The silence that saturated the glade was dissimilar to before. Unlike after Blaine finally found his prince, this silence was heavy and pressed on their skulls and ears until it felt like something must explode soon in a violent cacophony of sound. And explode it did.
With a roar, Dave surged forward, sword poised to run through Blaine who stood frozen with panic. The glint of the blade flashed across Blaine’s retinas, and he squeezed his eyes shut to focus on the tingling sensation on his lips that was the remnants of Kurt’s kiss. His eyes snapped open at a clatter of metal, only to see Kurt kicking Karofsky’s sword away from its owners limp hand.
The scene was peculiar, but not confusing. Kurt stood, chest heaving, over a prone Karofsky who lay on the on the ground, breaths shallow and a deep gash oozing blood down his temple. Beside him was a rock, smudged with the same rich red.
Blaine stood, mouth agape as Kurt flung the fallen sword into the lake with a mighty splash, fire blazing in his eyes. Hands trembling, Blaine shuffled closer to Kurt, whose shoulders heaved with fervour, to lightly rest his palms on Kurt’s waist. In a flash, Kurt span round to face Blaine, eyes still burning with intensity only to have it all wash away in a gush of relief, collapsing forward to bump his forehead clumsily to Blaine’s. It only felt natural for Blaine to raise his hands and sweep his palms up and down Kurt’s back in a comforting gesture.
‘I he d-dea-’
‘No.’ Blaine hastened to inform him, squeezing Kurt a little tighter as the prince let out a relieved sob. A moist puddle of tears spread progressively wider and wider on the shoulder of Blaine’s tunic.
‘His wound isn’t too bad,’ Blaine said into Kurt’s soft brown hair, the strands tickling his nose, ‘He has supplies in his pack. I can bandage him and we’ll ask the first villager we see to send word of his whereabouts to his guard.’ Though Kurt nodded agreeably to the plan his hands clutched at the hem of Blaine’s tunic anxiously as he pulled away to tend to the fallen Lord. Blaine smiled comfortingly to Prince Kurt.
‘We’ll be home soon.’
~~~~~
No one recognised Prince Kurt when he arrived at the gates of McKinley Castle. He had aged during his enchanted sleep, and his time in the woods had left him dishevelled and flecked with mud and grime. The guards, Sam and Puck, once close friends of Kurt’s, only raised disbelieving eye brows as he announced himself for the third time, voice raising voice with aggravation. When the guards refused to allow Kurt passage, no matter his argument, he sighed and set his piercing gaze on Sam. Blaine didn’t blame the man for squirming.
‘Still cleaning your hair with lemon juice, Sam?’
The guards’ eyes widened in synchronicity before wide smiles split their faces and they pulled Kurt forward into a hard hug, full of loud shouts of jubilance and thumps to the back that Blaine thought must surely break Kurt’s spine. As he was towed away by the guards, Kurt tossed his hand back to fish for Blaine’s, which slipped easily into Kurt’s hold. Together, they entered the castle proper. Blaine marvelled at the smooth flagstones on the floor and the intricately woven tapestries that lined the walls, keeping the castle pleasantly warm. Servants walked past, nattering away to each other as they fulfilled their duties, smiling, something Blaine didn’t remember seeing in the Karofsky household. The most impressive sight came at the end of their journey, a mahogany door that was staggeringly high, fitted with shiny brass handles and hinges.
Blaine boggled as neither of the guards stopped to knock, but dragged Kurt, and subsequently Blaine, through the imposing doors. A man in his late forties stared up at them from his seat behind a beautifully crafted desk, clearly annoyed at the intrusion - though not enraged as Blaine imagined someone so important might be. The man opened his mouth the reprimand them, but then his eyes alighted on Kurt. As if the mud and torn clothes didn’t exist, his eyes filled with a knowing gleam, and in four long steps he had enveloped Kurt into his strong arms.
‘Kurt, oh how I’ve missed you.’
‘Dad.’
The embrace was so intimate, so tender, Blaine felt it a sin to gawp at it so openly. He cast his eyes to the ground, admiring the plush wine-coloured carpeting and cursing his shoes, grubby leather tied like sacks around his feet. He felt like a lowly commoner.
‘And who is this?’ Blaine snapped to attention at the King’s query, finding both father and son’s eyes trained upon his person. It was easy not to fidget when Kurt’s lips spread open in a beaming smile, and he rushed over to Blaine to hold his calloused hand in his own soft palms.
‘Dad, this is Blaine. He’s the one who woke me.’
‘Well then,’ rumbled the King, full of good cheer for having his son returned to him, ‘a reward is in order. It would be my pleasure to provide you with anything young Blaine.’ It was over, Blaine realised. Now he was supposed to ask for riches or a dwelling or a mare, and leave for good so Prince Kurt could marry someone of true standing and live happily ever after in another’s man’s arms. He could feel King Burt’s expectant eyes on him, and once again spied his own shoes.
‘I suppose some new boots would be appreciated your majesty,’ he said, voice low and desolate, ‘the walk back is long and these shoes are already worn thin.’ Kurt’s hand tightened on Blaine’s abruptly, and Blaine flicked his eyes, almost unwillingly, to Kurt’s.
‘Walk? What walk? Aren’t you staying?’ A frown pulled Blaine’s brows together, creasing his forehead in confusion. Hope flooded his heart so it beat at double time.
‘I, I thought you wouldn’t want me to stay.’ A smile tugged at Kurt’s grubby cheeks, and Blaine swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
‘Of course I want you to stay,’ Kurt said, tugging their joined hands up to rest over his heart. He smiled lovingly at Blaine, ‘I finally found my prince.’
~End
Description: In the land of McKinley a beautiful prince lies hidden, waiting for his true love to kiss him back into the world. Lord Dave Karofsky is determined to do just that.
Pairing(s): Kurt/Blaine, one sided Dave/Kurt, very vague reference to Azimio/OFC (Kelby)
Warnings: The most raw writing you'll ever see because I couldn't find my friend to beta it for me :D
Rating: PG
Word Count: 7,728
Author’s Note: Written for The Kurt_Blaine Hiatus Gift Exchange, hope you like it mothergoddamn ! :D
Disclaimer: I don’t own Glee, but if I did I'd just let it die after the characters graduate rather than drag it on with second rate plots and new uninspiring characters *glares at Murphy*
No one noticed when Blaine left the castle. He mused that perhaps the other servants had bemoaned him shirking his duties, but he was certain no other mind would be paid. Face set in determination and chin raised high, he marched through the woods in the valley that separated Legere and Forelærand. He’d been trudging through the brambles and thick undergrowth for two days now, hoping for the faintest glimpse of Prince Kurt. All the while, he was keenly aware of Lord Karofsky and his knights chasing after him, or rather, Prince Kurt, on their swift stallions. Every night Blaine scrounged a few hours of rest, curled tightly in a ball beneath his single tattered coat, too afraid of being noticed to light a fire. Already his supplies were dwindling, having only had time to snatch two stale rolls and a small wedge of hard cheese from the kitchens, and he thought to scavenge some sour apples from the trees on the edge of the forest.
On the morning of the third day, Blaine was almost ready to give up. Prince Kurt had a full day’s walking ahead of him, and Lord Dave was sure to catch up soon on his steed. His shoulders were slumped and eyes tired as he wandered upon a small lake, clouded with mud and grit. Wrinkling his nose, he sluiced the water through his hands and onto his dirt-crusted face, letting the droplets filter refreshingly through his curls.
‘Blaine?’ queried a soft, croaky voice. Blaine whipped his head around, water droplets sputtering from his hair and leaking down into his lashes so his sight was blurred. Hastily, he rubbed the moisture from his eyes and squinted towards the voice. Poking out from behind a large boulder at the waters edge was Kurt. His clothes were ripped, his hair unkempt beyond recognition, but it was indisputably Kurt. Blaine shuffled closer on his knees until they sat together, leaning against the boulder.
‘Kurt, I-I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?’ Kurt nodded quietly, eyes immovable from Blaine’s face. And then their lips were pressed together tightly, hot tears splashing between their touching cheeks. Kurt pulled away with a sniff, wiping at his cheeks with his dirty sleeve.
‘I’m so s-sorry Blaine.’ Kurt threw himself into Blaine, wrapping his arms with surprising strength about Blaine’s waist. Shocked, Blaine groped his hands in the air behind Kurt for a moment before he responded, folding his arms around Kurt and holding him close. The prince wept messily against Blaine’s shoulder, snuffling noisily as his runny nose threatened to rub against Blaine’s tunic. Gently, Blaine smoothed a hand through Kurt’s tangled hair, working the knots loose with patient care.
‘Kurt,’ Blaine murmured against the shell of Kurt’s ear, ‘It’s okay. Really,’ he insisted, as Kurt shook his head with a weak sound of protest, ‘I do understand. At least, I think I do. You thought Lord Dave was a prince, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, pulling away slightly as he nodded, ‘but you must understand, that only made a difference to me because I was thinking of my kingdom. I thought if he was a prince we could have an ally, that we would have trade and be safer and-’ Blaine pressed a muddy finger to Kurt’s chapped lips and smiled.
‘It’s okay.’ A silence pervaded the clearing for a minute, a soft breeze drifting past the embracing pair.
‘Kurt, I know it’s sort of silly now but, I just wanted to say… I lo-’
‘Step away from him servant!’
Together their heads snapped to the sight of Lord Dave Karofsky, red faced and panting beside his chestnut horse, pointing the tip of his sword at them unwaveringly. Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt, to the point of bruising his alabaster skin, and pulled the slender prince behind him. Perhaps twenty feet away, Karofsky glowered and stabbed his sword forward into the air forcefully.
‘N-no,’ Blaine said shakily, ‘I won’t let you hurt him.’
‘I said away servant! He does not love you, he is mine!’ The impassioned words stopped both Blaine and Karofsky dead for a moment, but the same couldn’t be said for Prince Kurt.
‘I am no one’s!’ he exclaimed angrily, rising from his spot behind Blaine, who felt his heart sink bleakly at Kurt’s words, ‘I am no possession, and I will not let either of you treat me as such.’
Bashfully, Blaine bowed his head and sunk away from Kurt’s livid glare. He wanted to explain himself, but the words jammed painfully in his throat until his lips pressed shut. Lord Karofsky seemed to have no such qualms, and stepped ever closer to them, so they could see the sweat rolling down his neck under his leather jerkin, and the enraged glint in eye. His eyes softened just slightly as he turned to Kurt.
‘My prince, this servant,’ he spat the word disdainfully, glaring at Blaine as he did, ‘has hoodwinked you; he is nothing but a vile trickster. Come back to Legere, I’ll care for you, you’ll live in luxury, you-’
‘Will be miserable.’ Kurt finished solemnly.
The silence that saturated the glade was dissimilar to before. Unlike after Blaine finally found his prince, this silence was heavy and pressed on their skulls and ears until it felt like something must explode soon in a violent cacophony of sound. And explode it did.
With a roar, Dave surged forward, sword poised to run through Blaine who stood frozen with panic. The glint of the blade flashed across Blaine’s retinas, and he squeezed his eyes shut to focus on the tingling sensation on his lips that was the remnants of Kurt’s kiss. His eyes snapped open at a clatter of metal, only to see Kurt kicking Karofsky’s sword away from its owners limp hand.
The scene was peculiar, but not confusing. Kurt stood, chest heaving, over a prone Karofsky who lay on the on the ground, breaths shallow and a deep gash oozing blood down his temple. Beside him was a rock, smudged with the same rich red.
Blaine stood, mouth agape as Kurt flung the fallen sword into the lake with a mighty splash, fire blazing in his eyes. Hands trembling, Blaine shuffled closer to Kurt, whose shoulders heaved with fervour, to lightly rest his palms on Kurt’s waist. In a flash, Kurt span round to face Blaine, eyes still burning with intensity only to have it all wash away in a gush of relief, collapsing forward to bump his forehead clumsily to Blaine’s. It only felt natural for Blaine to raise his hands and sweep his palms up and down Kurt’s back in a comforting gesture.
‘I he d-dea-’
‘No.’ Blaine hastened to inform him, squeezing Kurt a little tighter as the prince let out a relieved sob. A moist puddle of tears spread progressively wider and wider on the shoulder of Blaine’s tunic.
‘His wound isn’t too bad,’ Blaine said into Kurt’s soft brown hair, the strands tickling his nose, ‘He has supplies in his pack. I can bandage him and we’ll ask the first villager we see to send word of his whereabouts to his guard.’ Though Kurt nodded agreeably to the plan his hands clutched at the hem of Blaine’s tunic anxiously as he pulled away to tend to the fallen Lord. Blaine smiled comfortingly to Prince Kurt.
‘We’ll be home soon.’
~~~~~
No one recognised Prince Kurt when he arrived at the gates of McKinley Castle. He had aged during his enchanted sleep, and his time in the woods had left him dishevelled and flecked with mud and grime. The guards, Sam and Puck, once close friends of Kurt’s, only raised disbelieving eye brows as he announced himself for the third time, voice raising voice with aggravation. When the guards refused to allow Kurt passage, no matter his argument, he sighed and set his piercing gaze on Sam. Blaine didn’t blame the man for squirming.
‘Still cleaning your hair with lemon juice, Sam?’
The guards’ eyes widened in synchronicity before wide smiles split their faces and they pulled Kurt forward into a hard hug, full of loud shouts of jubilance and thumps to the back that Blaine thought must surely break Kurt’s spine. As he was towed away by the guards, Kurt tossed his hand back to fish for Blaine’s, which slipped easily into Kurt’s hold. Together, they entered the castle proper. Blaine marvelled at the smooth flagstones on the floor and the intricately woven tapestries that lined the walls, keeping the castle pleasantly warm. Servants walked past, nattering away to each other as they fulfilled their duties, smiling, something Blaine didn’t remember seeing in the Karofsky household. The most impressive sight came at the end of their journey, a mahogany door that was staggeringly high, fitted with shiny brass handles and hinges.
Blaine boggled as neither of the guards stopped to knock, but dragged Kurt, and subsequently Blaine, through the imposing doors. A man in his late forties stared up at them from his seat behind a beautifully crafted desk, clearly annoyed at the intrusion - though not enraged as Blaine imagined someone so important might be. The man opened his mouth the reprimand them, but then his eyes alighted on Kurt. As if the mud and torn clothes didn’t exist, his eyes filled with a knowing gleam, and in four long steps he had enveloped Kurt into his strong arms.
‘Kurt, oh how I’ve missed you.’
‘Dad.’
The embrace was so intimate, so tender, Blaine felt it a sin to gawp at it so openly. He cast his eyes to the ground, admiring the plush wine-coloured carpeting and cursing his shoes, grubby leather tied like sacks around his feet. He felt like a lowly commoner.
‘And who is this?’ Blaine snapped to attention at the King’s query, finding both father and son’s eyes trained upon his person. It was easy not to fidget when Kurt’s lips spread open in a beaming smile, and he rushed over to Blaine to hold his calloused hand in his own soft palms.
‘Dad, this is Blaine. He’s the one who woke me.’
‘Well then,’ rumbled the King, full of good cheer for having his son returned to him, ‘a reward is in order. It would be my pleasure to provide you with anything young Blaine.’ It was over, Blaine realised. Now he was supposed to ask for riches or a dwelling or a mare, and leave for good so Prince Kurt could marry someone of true standing and live happily ever after in another’s man’s arms. He could feel King Burt’s expectant eyes on him, and once again spied his own shoes.
‘I suppose some new boots would be appreciated your majesty,’ he said, voice low and desolate, ‘the walk back is long and these shoes are already worn thin.’ Kurt’s hand tightened on Blaine’s abruptly, and Blaine flicked his eyes, almost unwillingly, to Kurt’s.
‘Walk? What walk? Aren’t you staying?’ A frown pulled Blaine’s brows together, creasing his forehead in confusion. Hope flooded his heart so it beat at double time.
‘I, I thought you wouldn’t want me to stay.’ A smile tugged at Kurt’s grubby cheeks, and Blaine swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
‘Of course I want you to stay,’ Kurt said, tugging their joined hands up to rest over his heart. He smiled lovingly at Blaine, ‘I finally found my prince.’
~End