Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Any idea what kind of lives you’d like to live next?” Caphriel asked, smiling as Kurt and Blaine realized where they were. It had taken them a little longer than normal, probably because they’d been together in that world since they were practically three years old, but he was happy they were back in The Unknown, if only for a little while. 

Kurt and Blaine looked at one another. The possibilities were limitless. Anywhere they chose, they’d be able to find one another. 

“What do you think, Blaine?” Kurt asked softly, squeezing his soulmate’s hand. He smiled as the golden ring around them squeezed in just a little, too. “We can go anywhere you want.”

“We can go anywhere you want, too,” Blaine replied, leaning in to kiss Kurt. “What’s been your favorite place so far?”

Kurt thought for a moment, silently ticking worlds off on his fingers. He couldn’t believe, when he’d added them all up, that they’d already gone on 10 adventures together. “I liked the ones where we discovered a connection to our other selves,” he answered finally, looking Blaine in the eyes. “There’s something extra special about learning that we’ve been made for one another since the beginning, about knowing that no matter what difficulty we’re facing, we’re designed to be it for one another. Could--Do you think we could have another adventure like that?” Kurt asked, his eyes misty.

How could Blaine say no to his soulmate when there was hope radiating from his eyes. “Caphriel?” he asked, looking up at the man. “Is there somewhere like that for us to go?”

A wide smile lit up Caphriel’s face. “I know just the one,” he said, flipping to one of the very last pages in his book. He pointed to a picture. It was a tree, all black, with little black tufts of what would typically be green foliage coming off of the many branches. Inside each tuft of leaves was a small picture that Blaine and Kurt had to crane their necks to see. 

“What is it?” Kurt asked, looking up at Caphriel. “What does the picture mean?”

“Do you remember the adventure you went on where you both were princes?” Caphriel asked, looking between the two men who were both looking at him now with wide, curious eyes.

They nodded.

“This adventure takes place in the same world, and it’s only through you that soulmates are possible. There is a tree in the forest, the very tree that you reunited under the day Blaine returned from the war, that unites soulmates. You will both be drawn to the tree at the same time, and when you touch the tree, you’ll be given soulmarks.” Caphriel paused, directing their attention back to the picture. “At first, your soulmarks will mean nothing to you. They’ll be plain, simple. After you get them, you’ll barely remember that they’re there. But when you begin to fall in love with one another, the more time you spend together and the more activities you do together, the more elaborate your soulmarks will become until they turn into this.” He pointed to the picture, smiling wide as they both looked at the picture again.

“But Caphriel, what do the symbols mean?” Blaine asked. “Why are there tiny pictures and our initials on the tree?”

“That is where Kurt’s wish comes in,” Caphriel explained. “As you spend time together, you’ll find that you relive tiny parts of each of your previous adventures. Each time you do, a new symbol will grow on your tree.”

“But how will we know what they mean?” Kurt asked. “We won’t remember what you’ve told us, will we?”

Caphriel chuckled at that. “No. The All-Knowing does not allow infinites to retain their knowledge gained in The Unknown unless there is a very special reason to.”

“So, then how will we know?” Kurt asked. He liked the sound of going somewhere that all their lives were important to, but he just couldn’t wrap his mind around how all of it would work.

“That I won’t tell you,” Caphriel answered. “Trust that the All-Knowing will provide you with someone to explain everything.” He took a small step backward to give the boys a bit of breathing room. “Do you think you’d like to try it?” he asked kindly, waiting.

Kurt turned to look at his soulmate. “Blaine? What do you think?”

“It might be nice to be princes again,” Blaine answered honestly. “Maybe we’ll avoid some of the bullying and forced separation that usually comes along with these adventures, at least in the beginning.” He glanced at Caphriel to gauge the man’s reaction, but his face remained the same, just smiling pleasantly.

“Maybe,” Kurt agreed. “No matter what, though, we’ll end up together. Right?” he asked, turning toward Caphriel once again.

“You will,” the man confirmed. “Infinites always find one another in the end. The All-Knowing has deemed it so.”

“Can we try it?” Kurt asked, turning back to his soulmate. “I think it could be fun.”

“Of course we can,” Blaine replied, rising up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Kurt’s lips. “I could never say no to you.”

“You’re sure?” Kurt asked. “I want you to want to go, too.”

“I want to go wherever you are,” Blaine replied, kissing him again. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a desperate need to be close to his soulmate for a few moments longer.

“You’re a cheese,” Kurt breathed, his lips still brushing against Blaine’s.

“You love your cheese,” Blaine replied, pressing closer for another kiss. Their interactions became more heated after that, Blaine’s hands rising to cup Kurt’s face, his lips and tongue seeking contact as often as possible, only moving away slightly to breathe. 

Caphriel turned away, not wanting to intrude on this private moment. He knew that, despite the excitement of beginning a new adventure, this was effectively a goodbye for the two of them, at least for a while. After having spent so much time with Kurt while Blaine was a vampire, Caphriel had realized that he’d grown more attached to these two than he had any other set of soulmates to ever come through The Unknown. He was feeling choked up just thinking about them leaving again. He only ever got such a short amount of time with them when they passed through on the way to their next adventure.

Finally, Kurt pulled away, smiling as Blaine chased his lips with a tiny whine. “I love you, Blaine,” he whispered, pulling his soulmate into a tight embrace. “I love you so much. Are you ready to show the world?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Blaine replied, his head pressed tightly against Kurt’s chest.

“Do you want to stay? You can always stay for a while longer,” Caphriel offered, sensing a bit of hesitation from his favorite infinites. He didn’t say it aloud, but his own heart leaped at the idea, hoping they’d say yes.

Kurt looked at his soulmate questioningly. “Do you want to stay?”

“No,” Blaine answered, pulling away and making eye contact. “I’m ready for our new adventure.”

Smiling, Kurt leaned in to brush one more kiss against Blaine’s lips. “Me, too,” he whispered. He grasped onto both of Blaine’s hands before turning to Caphriel. “We’re ready.”

“Have fun,” the man answered, waving to them as they disappeared into a new adventure. He adjusted the small TV screen on his podium, given to him by the All-Knowing so he could watch the lives of his favorite soulmates play out in front of him. “I can’t wait to watch another Klaine love story unfold.”

Chapter Text

It was a sunny spring day in May when Queen Elizabeth Hummel went into labor. The castle was abuzz as the royal midwife was called, the queen’s ladies in waiting were brought in to help get water and cloths for the soon-to-be-born infant, and all the men, the king included, were banned from the sleeping quarters. The poor queen labored through several painful hours, finally giving birth to a beautiful baby boy in the middle of the night.

When the bundle of fussing baby was placed into her arms, she smiled down at him, brushing one long, delicate finger over his soft, porcelain skin. “You’re such a perfect little thing,” she cooed at him, smiling when her voice caused him to do a happy little kick. “Your father will be so proud of you.”

Indeed, when King Burt Hummel was brought into his wife’s chambers to meet the baby, he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. “A boy!” he cried happily, dancing a happy little jig around the room, much to his wife’s amusement. “He’s our perfect baby boy, a proper heir to the throne. We shall name him Kurt.” The king sent for his messengers at once, bidding them to go out in all directions from the kingdom and let all the other royal families know that the Hummel family now had a true and proper heir to their throne. 

Before dawn broke, the messenger boys were on their way, a few of them on foot, a few of them on horseback, headed in all directions. Each arrived at his assigned city and delivered his message to the castle guards. “King Burt and Queen Elizabeth Hummel have a fine baby boy, Kurt, delicate in features, skin as white as snow, and eyes as blue as the sky.” In each kingdom, the message was delivered faithfully to the royal family. All but one…

In the kingdom of Zira, King and Queen Anderson’s guard, armed with the message about the birth of a baby to King and Queen Hummel, was interrupted on his way to the king’s chambers. “Judd!” a young woman called to the knight. “Judd!”

Judd looked in the direction of the voice, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the young, dirty woman peering at him from around one of the castle walls. “Elia!” Judd cried, racing over to her. “Where have you been? I’ve not seen you in months!”

“My mother and father...they forbade me from seeing you,” Elia said, pulling back from Judd’s arms. “I-I can’t stay, but I need your help.” Silently, she walked a few feet away, bending down to retrieve something from the ground.

As she rose, Judd could just make out a baby, wrapped tightly in a dirty cloth. “A baby?” he whispered harshly, his eyes darting around to be sure that no one else was nearby. “What are you doing with a baby, Elia?”

“He’s yours,” the young woman answered. “He’s yours, Judd, but I can’t keep him. My father--He spoke of taking the baby away; I had to get him out of there before my father took off with him.”

“What am I to do with him?” Judd asked. “I can’t care for a baby.” 

“Find someone who can!” Elia begged. “Judd, please. If you don’t take him, my father will, and I fear for our son’s life.”

Judd sighed, unsure what to do. “I’ve nowhere to take him, Elia. I don’t know anyone who can take care of a baby.”

“Please try!” she begged again. “You’ve got to save him, Judd. He’s your son!”

Without another thought, the knight held out his hands for the boy.

Elia sobbed quietly, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head and whispering in his ear, “I love you, little one,” before she passed him off to the knight. “Thank you,” she whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “I’ve got to go.” With that, she took off, leaving the knight standing beside the castle walls with a small, sleeping baby who was just beginning to stretch, waking from his nap.

Thinking quickly, the knight held the child close to his body and began to move in the direction of the guard’s entrance, his eyes peeled for anywhere he could stick the baby, anyone he could give it to. He couldn’t show up for an audience with the king with a baby tucked against his shoulder. Luck seemed not to be in his favor, however, for the closer that he walked to that door, the fewer people he saw. 

Finally, when he was only a few paces away, he saw a small horse and crude cart parked next to the castle wall. He knew the cart belonged to the woman from the woods, the woman the king sometimes called on for council and direction when his typical scholars and interpreters were of no help. No one knew what special powers this woman held, but the king always left meetings with her satisfied. 

With nowhere else to turn, the knight hurried the few steps that separated himself from the crude cart. He carefully set the baby down inside, as close to the driver’s seat as he could get. He looked down at the baby, who was just cracking open his eyes, eyes that looked very much like the beautiful sage green of his mother. For a moment, Judd was caught in the tiny baby’s stare, and the thought of leaving him for the woman to find nearly sent him into a tailspin. However, hearing the guard door begin to creak open, he jogged away from the cart, trying to appear as calm and natural as possible. 

He passed the king’s special council woman on her way to her cart, and he kept his head down, nodding slightly to her as he passed. The guard just inside the door greeted him with a confused smile. “Everything okay, Judd?” he asked. “I thought you were watching the gate today.”

Judd nodded. “I am.”

“Then… what are you doing here?”

What was he doing there? It took the poor knight a moment to remember. “I’ve a message for the king,” he finally said, looking into the other man’s eyes. “From our neighboring kingdom of Cicuria.”

“The king is in his chambers,” the other guard said. “He should take your audience.”

“Thank you,” Judd replied, climbing the stairs with heavy feet. He couldn’t get the image of his son’s handsome face and beautiful green eyes out of his head. It made him feel sad and angry all at the same time. He’d thought he’d lost Elia forever and then she’d shown up with a baby? How could she do something like this to him? And, could he really lose all the pieces of her at once?

Poor Judd was so lost in thought that he merely stood outside the king’s chambers for several long moments, just staring at the floor. It wasn’t until a servant girl passed by, giving him an odd look and clearing her throat, that he had the good sense to knock.

“Come in,” King Anderson said. When Judd entered, he looked up from his desk where he was writing something. “Knight Judd?” he questioned, waiting for the younger man to say something.

“I-I, uh, I have a message from the King of Cicuria, King Hummel.”

“Well? Spit it out, sir.”

“He wishes to let you know that he and his queen have had a baby.”

King Anderson blinked for a moment. “Is that all?” he asked. “No details?”

Judd tried to think clearly, to remember what the messenger boy had told him, but all he could see was his son’s face in his mind. “Um, a beautiful baby of fair skin and blue eyes,” he finally managed to say.

“A girl, then?” King Anderson asked.

“Yes, your majesty,” Judd said, bowing low.

“Anything further?”

“No, your majesty.”

“Excused,” the king said, returning to his desk. As the knight left the room, the king grabbed a new piece of paper, penning down a reminder to himself. “Tell Queen Pam of the birth of Princess Hummel.” Beneath that, he wrote, “Treaty?” His wife was expecting; perhaps a marriage agreement could someday be made. If not for the new baby, then perhaps for his oldest son, Cooper.

Outside, while Judd was trying to gather his wits and forget about his son, the woman, Liz, was just discovering the baby hidden in her cart. She’d no more than sat down when the little, dirty bundle had begun to cry, his lungs strong and healthy, the cries ringing out into the clear May morning. “What’s this?” she asked herself, bending down to collect the baby from where he lay on the floor of the cart.

As soon as he was in her arms, he stopped crying, his wide, green eyes searching her face. He had the softest brown hair framing his chubby cheeks, and his little hands waved wildly in the air as if seeing her was the best thing that could have ever happened.

Liz looked around to see if anyone was watching. Perhaps whomever had left the baby had stayed to be sure she’d take him. Perhaps someone had seen who had left the baby in her cart. But there was no one nearby.

Looking down at the baby again, a tiny smile grew on her face. Perhaps this was the answer she and her wife, Jan, had been looking for. Maybe this was the baby they’d been hoping Fate would help them to find. “I think I’ll take you home with me,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “I think I’ll take you home with me and call you my son. What do you think of that, little one?”

The baby gargled at her, waving his fists again.

“I agree. That’s a great plan…” For a moment, she hesitated, considering whether or not to try out one of the names that she and Jan had come up with. Finally she thought, What could it hurt? Situating the baby on her lap so he could ride comfortably without falling, she slapped the reins lightly against her horse’s rump. “Come on, Sebastian. Let’s go home. It’s time for you to meet your other mommy.”

***

That September, on a cloudy day which carried with it the crisp, sharp air that warned of autumn, Queen Pam gave birth to her second child, a baby boy. When he was laid in her arms, she smiled down at his little face, delighted with the head full of dark, curly hair, the long, soft eyelashes that pressed so delicately against the olive skin of his little round face. “He’s beautiful,” she breathed, showing her midwife who stood nearby, smiling at the queen. “Isn’t he perfect?”

“He’s lovely, your majesty,” the midwife agreed. “Would you like me to fetch the king?”

“Please,” Queen Pam replied. “And, my son. Cooper.”

The midwife, bowing low, left the room, returning nearly 10 minutes later with the king and Prince Cooper. 

Cooper raced to his mother’s bedside, looking at the baby in her arms curiously. “Is that him, Mother?” he asked, looking up at her expectantly.

“Yes, my dear,” his mother said, reaching out to brush at his wild chestnut hair. “This is your baby brother.”

“What does he do?” Cooper asked. “Can he ride a horse or swing a sword?”

King Hicket Anderson chuckled at this, coming over to ruffle his son’s hair. “Not yet, my little prince. Soon. Someday soon, when your brother gets just a little bigger, you’ll be able to teach him all the wonderful things that I’ve taught you.”

Cooper looked up at his father, confused. In all his 10 years, he’d never seen a baby before, and he had no idea what to do with one. “But what can he do now, Father?” he asked. “Can’t he run or jump or train with Master Tobyn?”

“In good time, dear boy. In time,” King Hicket replied. “For now, we need to let the other kingdoms know we’ve added a fine son to the list of heirs. Come, Cooper. Let your mother and the baby get well-aquainted. You can help me.”

The little boy nodded, following his father out of the room as the baby began to cry. “Father, what’s the baby’s name?” he asked as he hurried along beside the king.

“Blaine,” King Hicket replied. “Your brother’s name is Blaine.”

“Blaine,” Cooper repeated, letting it roll around on his tongue. It felt funny, but he was sure he’d get used to it. He couldn’t stop thinking about the tiny face of the baby in his mother’s arms and the fact that the baby couldn’t do anything, not even run through the castle at top speed. “He has a lot to learn, doesn’t he, Father?” Cooper asked as they entered the King’s personal chambers.

“He does, but he’ll have you to guide him,” the king answered. “Now, sit here beside me quietly. I need to write the birth announcement.” Shuffling through his desk, King Hicket located a piece of paper. Dipping his quill pen into the ink well, he scrawled across the paper, “King Hicket and Queen Pam Anderson of Zira announce the birth of their beautiful baby, Blaine. Their kingdom rejoices with them at this glorious news and eagerly await the presentation of the new baby.”

“What will you do with that, Father?” Cooper asked as he watched the king roll up the paper and tie it neatly with a ribbon.

“We’ll send out our messenger to the neighboring kingdoms. When he gets an audience with the royal family, he will read our announcement, and everyone will be happy for us.”

“What if they’re not?”

“They will be,” King Hicket assured him. “Babies are the perfect reason to be happy.”

Cooper nodded but said nothing else, following his father out of his chambers and through the castle until they reached the throne room. One of the king’s servants was inside, working on an assignment from his king. 

When King Hicket and Prince Cooper entered, the servant hurried to his feet, bowing low to them. “Your Highness, young Prince, what can I do for you?”

A giant smile grew on the king’s face as he passed the rolled paper to the servant. “Find a messenger and send him out to announce our good news at once. My wife has given birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy.”

“Blaine,” Cooper supplied helpfully. “He’s little, and he can’t do much; Father says he’ll grow, though.”

The servant chuckled at this. “That he will, young Prince,” he replied. “I’ll send someone out at once.”

Less than an hour later, a messenger, armed with the paper tucked firmly into his coat, took off on horseback, heading for the nearby kingdoms. He made a few stops before stopping to rest for the night. The following morning, through a heavy fog and uncomfortable drizzle, he road to Cicuria. “I demand an audience with the king and queen,” he told the entrance guard. “I’ve got an important message from the royal family of Zira.”

“Of course,” the guard said, guiding him through the castle grounds and the maze of hallways inside until they reached the throne room. The guard knocked, waiting until someone on the other side cracked the door just a bit. “Important message from Zira,” the guard announced. When the door opened wider, he ushered the messenger inside.

“Well?” King Burt called from his throne as the young messenger approached. “What news have your brought to us?”

The messenger, still tired after having spent the night in a stable, patted his coat, looking for the rolled page. When he found it and pulled it from his pocket, it was wet and dirty, having been soaked by the drizzle on his way to the castle in Cicuria. 

King Burt watched him unroll the paper, tearing little bits until he finally got it unrolled. There was a small, amused smile on his face, but he tried to school his features as the messenger cleared his throat to begin reading.

“Um, King H-H-Hicket and Queen Pam An-Ander-Anderson of Zira an-an...um, want you to know they had a beautiful baby. It’s name is, um, is…” The messenger squinted, trying to make out the King’s handwriting between his bleary eyes and the wet, dirty, smudged paper. “Uh, it’s… B-Bl-Blaaaaaaaire, I think. Yeah… I think.” He tried to remember what the rest of it had said, but it was no use. He couldn’t come up with it, so he let his hands fall to his sides, looking up at King Burt.

“A baby girl?” the king mused to himself. “Hmmm...yes. Thank you, messenger boy. You’re dismissed to go on your way.” He waved his hand at the boy, distracted by his own thoughts. Perhaps a wedding arrangement could be made with my son…

Chapter Text

On an unusually warm October morning when Kurt was three years old, he was quietly playing on his mother’s bed when his father came bursting in, interrupting his mother’s morning tea with some of her friends.

“Great news!” King Burt proclaimed as he walked in, spreading his arms wide. “I’ve got the rest of the day free; it’s beautiful outside. I think we should have a picnic.” He grinned at his son as he leapt off the bed, racing over to him.

“Daddy, we c’n reawwy has a picnic?” Kurt asked, stopping right in front of his father and looking up. Way, way up.

“We can, little Prince,” the king agreed, looking to his wife. “Doesn’t that sound fun, Elizabeth?”

“I don’t know, Burt,” Elizabeth countered. “I was planning to spend my day working on my needlepoint, an--” 

She was cut off by Kurt racing over to her and throwing his arms around her middle. “But Mommy p’ease c’n we has a picnic wif Daddy? I wanna make fwower cwowns an’ go dancin’!”

Elizabeth couldn’t say no to the look on her son’s face. “Of course we can go, darling,” she said, reaching out a hand to run through his hair. “While I finish my tea, Daddy will have our food prepared. Once everything’s ready, we can go.” 

“Hooray!” Kurt cried, racing back to the bed and hurriedly cleaning up the toys he’d been playing with. “I be weady go so fast, Mommy! See?”

“I see, sweetheart,” she cooed at him. “But slow down. If you get ready too fast, you’ll be impatient.”

Kurt wrinkled up his nose. “What in-in-in-pay-ent means?” 

“Impatient means getting excited too early. If you get excited too early, that can cause tummy aches or lead you to getting into trouble. So, we have to take our time and wait.”

“Don’ yike waitin’.”

“No one does, darling,” Elizabeth replied. “Play quietly on my bed while I finish my tea. I promise we’ll be leaving before you know it.” She turned to look at her husband who’d been watching the entire conversation with a sparkle in his eye. “You will send instructions to the cook, won’t you, my dear?”

“Of course,” Burt replied. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, he whisked out the door to have the carriage ready, their food prepared, and to change into something a little less fancy for sitting in the grass with his son.

They were not leaving before Kurt knew it. He knew it was taking forever and ever and ever, and still, no one seemed to acknowledge that it was taking so long. Each time he dared to ask his mother how much longer it would be, she’d simply smile and say, “Not yet, Kurt. Be patient and wait.”

Finally, however, Burt walked back into the room, a basket tucked under his arm. "Are you ready?" he asked his son, chuckling when the little boy leapt off the bed and sprinted to the door. 

"Ready!" he shouted. "'m ready!"

"You're excused," Elizabeth told her ladies, rising from her own chair. 

Burt moved himself and his son to the side to allow the ladies to leave, then he looked at his wife. "I think we'd better get going. I don't think Kurt can wait any longer." He jerked a thumb toward his son, a wide smile on his face. 

The little boy was practically dancing in place, unable to hold still or keep his feet from tip-tapping across the floor.

Elizabeth smiled in that soft, kind way she had with everyone. “I suppose we should,” she agreed. Taking a few steps forward, she held out a hand to her son. “Escort me down to the carriage?”

Kurt grabbed her hand, but he was less of an escort and more of an insistent tug all the way through the castle. It seemed like an eternity until they reached the main doors and stepped out into the warm sun. Kurt was immediately in love with the way the sun hit his dark hair, warming him inside and out. “I yuv sun hugs,” he said, sighing happily and tilting his face toward the light.

“I’m glad, bud,” King Burt said. “Into the carriage with you, though. The quicker you get in, the quicker we can get out again.”

Not needing to be told twice, the little boy scrambled into the carriage, bouncing excitedly as his father helped his mother in then stepped up himself.

“Where to, your majesty?” the driver asked when they were all settled comfortably.

“Take us to the meadow near the old tree. Along Zira’s border.”

The driver bowed low. “Indeed, your majesty.” Then, he closed the carriage door, and they began their journey.

Despite his mother and father’s concerns, the carriage ride was fairly quiet. Kurt was content to stare out the little window, watching as they bounced through the villages of Cicuria, wobbled along the rutted paths through the woods, and finally bounced over the humps of the open, grassy hills until they reached a pleasant meadow growing tall with wildflowers and buzzing with bees.

“This will do,” King Burt called out to the driver, and their horses were brought quickly to a stop. Burt helped his wife down and then his son, smiling when the little boy immediately began to spin in circles, singing at the top of his lungs.

“I yuv fwowers an’ twees!” he sang over and over, his arms flung wide and his head tilted back. “So bootyful!”

“Come along, my little dancer,” Elizabeth called to him, picking her way across the meadow to a shady spot beneath a tree. “There will be plenty of time for dancing after we eat.” She chuckled softly as her son ran through the flowers on his tiptoes, giggling as little petals fell all around him, floating and drifting on his man-made breeze. When he finally reached her, he collapsed on the ground, giggling and rolling around.

“I yuv fwowers, Mommy!” he told her, breathless, his eyes shining.

“And, I love you, my little Prince,” she answered.

A moment later, Burt arrived with a blanket which he spread on the ground, instructing the driver to set their basket down in the middle. Then, the driver went off to find a spot to unhook and water the horses, and the three of them were finally alone.

Their lunch was a peaceful but fun affair. Elizabeth was pleased to discover that her husband had instructed the cook to create an assortment of finger foods for them, and they were all able to choose what they wanted, feeding themselves while they giggled and talked, enjoying each others’ company. 

Kurt was certainly impatient, constantly looking around at the trees and the wildflowers, talking about which ones he was going to pick and weave together to make a crown. When he was finally allowed to get up and begin his quest, he hurried to the nearest plant and began plucking flowers at random, murmuring excitedly to himself. Each blossom he plucked was tucked into a neat little bouquet in his hand, and when he was satisfied at one plant, he’d move to the next, making sure to get at least one bloom in each color.

“Don’t wander too far, my dear,” his mother called to him as he left the clearing and began to meander toward the edge of the trees. “If you can’t see your father and I, you’ve gone too far.”

“‘M jus’ pickin’ fwowers, Mommy!” he called back, his little voice drifting in on the gentle meadow breeze.

This statement got a laugh from King Burt, and he pulled his wife closer on the little blanket they were dining on. “He won’t get too far,” he murmured into her hair. “Let him go so we can have a few moments together.” Then, he bent to place a gentle, sweet kiss to her lips.

“Mmm,” the queen replied. “I could use a few moments alone with my King…”

The farther Kurt walked, absorbed in his flowers, the more enticing the plants in front of him became. When he finally turned around, both hands as full as he could get them with flowers, his parents were nowhere in sight. Neither was their lunch basket or their cute little blanket. “Mommy?” Kurt asked softly. “Daddy?” But his parents didn’t answer. ‘S gonna be ‘kay, he thought to himself. ‘M gonna find dem so Mommy can he’p me make my bootiful cwown. I tannot be a pwince wifout a cwown.

A little movement to Kurt’s left caught his attention, and he began to walk toward it, wondering who could be there. Maybe it was his parents, looking for him. Maybe it was a scary monster. Or a wild aminal. He wasn’t sure, but he was going to find out. So, clutching his flowers tightly, he moved closer to the source of the movement, a spot very close to a beautiful forest tree. 

What Kurt was far too little to notice was what it was, exactly, that made this tree so beautiful, so different from every other tree in the forest. This tree was glowing. Wrapped around the trunk like a protective spell, a golden haze encircled the whole of it, rounding the trunk and winding up around the branches and the leaves of even the uppermost branches. Any adult would swear that the tree sparkled at every glance and looked to be almost humming with magic, but Kurt didn’t notice. He was far too worried about being lost and perhaps eaten by a scary monster or wild animal, too concerned with keeping his beautiful flowers protected in his fists to worry about what some strange tree in the middle of the forest looked like. 

Stepping closer, he peered around the trunk of the tree and gasped at what he saw. There, playing on the ground with a stick and a flower was another little boy. A very beautiful little boy with dark curls and large hazel eyes. He was the prettiest thing little Kurt had ever seen, almost more beautiful than even his mother.

The little boy looked up sharply at Kurt’s gasp, seeming as surprised as Kurt was to see another set of eyes staring back at him. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if on cue, they both scrambled up, hiding behind the tree like it was their safety net from the other even though they were now less than a foot from one another.

Kurt’s little heart hammered rapidly in his chest, and his breathing came in short little spurts. He was nervous, scared, but curious, too. He wondered what the other little boy was doing. Would he yike to make some bootiful fwower cwowns, too? Kurt wondered. And, who was he? Were his mommy and daddy missing, too? Finally, Kurt worked up the courage to peek again. Placing both hands delicately against the tree trunk, he leaned around it, coming face to face with the other little boy who was doing the exact same thing, balancing himself with both hands against the tree.

Gasping again, Kurt returned to his hiding place. Then, slowly, he reached to peer around the other side. There was the little boy again, staring straight back at him. A giggle escaped his lips this time. He’d never played a game like this before, and it was fun. His smile was apparently contagious because the other little boy smiled back, too, disappearing behind the tree only to pop up again on the other side.

They did this for a few rounds before Kurt heard the loud sound of a stick cracking behind him and his mother call out, “Oh! There you are, Kurt! We were looking everywhere for you!” He felt her presence behind him; then, she reached out to snag his arm, turning him away from the tree. As he turned, he got sight of the beautiful boy, peeking around the tree at him again, a sad, disappointed look on his face. For some reason that Kurt didn’t yet have the words to explain, the expression on the little boy’s face made his heart hurt, and he reached out a hand toward him for a moment in a silent goodbye.

Elizabeth, glancing back over her shoulder, saw the other little boy, and she raised an eyebrow, confused by who he could be. If she hadn’t been so relieved to find her son and impatient to get him back to his father for a lecture on why he shouldn’t wander off alone, she probably would have tried to figure out where the other little boy belonged. However, she assumed that, like Kurt, he’d just wandered a bit too far from his parents; they’d find him eventually, and all would be well.

Kurt, however, didn’t like the idea of being separated from his new friend so quickly. His mommy and daddy had always taught him that telling someone goodbye was as important as remembering your good manners, and he was bound and determined to make sure the beautiful boy was okay. So, wrenching free from his mother’s grasp, he hurried back toward the tree, his eyes scanning wildly for the little boy. He heard his mother call out to him again, but he didn’t care, moving closer to the tree until he could just make out his friend being led away by his parents, going in the opposite direction of Kurt and his mother. At the last moment, the beautiful boy looked back over his shoulder at Kurt, smiling at him. When his parents saw Kurt, they picked up the pace, moving away and out of sight.

“Kurt Elizabeth!” his mother scolded, coming over to collect him again. “It’s very naughty to run away from me, especially when you’re already in trouble.” She grasped his arm again, pulling him back to her side, a little more roughly than she would normally handle her son.

The sudden movement made Kurt drop most of the flowers he was still gripping tightly in his fists, and he began to cry, heartbroken that the blooms he’d worked so hard to collect were now dusty and damaged on the ground. 

When Elizabeth realized what had happened, she rushed to soothe him, collecting as many of the lost flowers as she could and tucking them into the little pouch she wore at her waist. Then, climbing to her feet again, she hoisted her son onto her hip, rocking him gently and whispering in his ear. “Mommy’s sorry,” she crooned, carefully taking the rest of his flowers and tucking them away so he could rub tiredly at his eyes. “You’ve collected beautiful flowers, and I promise we’ll make flower crowns just as soon as we get home. I’ve got all your flowers in my pouch. They’ll be safe there. Alright?” She rubbed his back, smiling when he nodded sadly, rubbing the tears from his face.

He was suddenly very tired. 

When they made it back to King Burt, she said softly, “Find the driver; we need to go home. Someone’s exhausted.”

It was true, and Kurt was too sleepy to protest.

When they arrived at the castle, Elizabeth carried her tiny, exhausted son up to his room, laying him out on his bed. She quickly slipped his arms out of his jacket and pulled off his little shoes. As she went to cover him up with a blanket, she noticed a strange, dark mark on his upper right arm. Gently, she pulled his sleeve up, revealing a long, black bar tattooed onto his skin. “What in the world?” she whispered, wrapping him up before going out to the hallway.

“Where is King Burt?” she asked a passing manservant. “I must see him immediately.”

“He’s in his chamber, my queen,” the manservant informed her quickly. “Would you like for me to lead the way?”

“No. You’ve been quite helpful. Thank you.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and hurried off down the long corridors until she came to their wedding chambers. “Burt?” she called, her voice high-pitched and loud as she entered. “Burt, I must speak to you!”

“What is it, Elizabeth?” Burt asked, rising from his chair by his desk and hurrying to her side.

“I-it’s Kurt! He’s been...He’s marked!”

“Marked? Like, a soulmark?” 

She nodded. “I didn’t even think of it when I grabbed him away from the tree today, but it was glowing, golden and bright. Was that…?”

“Let me look,” Burt asked, striding out of the room, his wife hot on his heels.

When they arrived in Kurt’s chambers again, the king gently lifted the boy’s right sleeve again, revealing the long, dark bar on his upper arm.

“Is it?” Elizabeth asked, watching the king with large, fearful eyes.

“It appears that way,” Burt agreed quietly, ushering his wife out of the room. It wouldn’t do any good to frighten the little boy awake with Elizabeth’s frantic voice.

“What do we do, Burt? The other child there was a little boy! We can’t… Think of the kingdom! As the only heir to your throne, he can’t marry a man! Unless… with one of my ladies in waiting…”

“I would never,” Burt assured her, pulling his distraught wife to him and petting her hair soothingly. “You and your son are all I need; I’m not after another heir. We’ll deal with it when he’s older, if it comes to that, but you’re right. For the safety of our kingdom, he must not marry another man, no matter what Fate believes. When he becomes of age, I’ll arrange a wedding to a royal princess from another kingdom. We’ll use it as an opportunity to make an alliance, just as we planned before his marking.”

“And, you’re sure he’ll be alright? He won’t be ill or sad from being kept from his soulmate?” Elizabeth asked, looking up at her husband.

“I’ll see to it that my only son is happy,” Burt assured her. He had no idea how he’d do that, but he’d say anything at the moment to make his wife feel at ease. If he was honest, he didn’t want to think about the new problem Kurt’s soulmark posed or how he was going to fix it. He didn’t want to think about it for a long, long time.

Kurt, for his part, slept soundly, tucked into his little bed, dreaming of that beautiful little boy he’d met in the woods, a wide smile on his face.

Chapter Text

It was warm for October, and Blaine was enjoying himself in the courtyard, playing with a stick and a few rocks. His older brother, Cooper, had shown him how to play a game called Tic Tac Toe, and though Blaine didn’t really understand how you could play it by yourself, he liked drawing the Xs and Os in the dirt. Writing letters was cool, something he wanted to master soon so that his big brother would stop teasing him about not knowing how to spell his name. It didn’t matter that he was only three; if Cooper wanted him to know something, Blaine was definitely going to learn how to do it.

“Blaine? Blaine, my darling, where are you?” His mother was calling him from somewhere, and Blaine stood up in a hurry, looking around for her.

“Mommy?” he called. “Mommy, where is you?”

“Up here, sweet boy,” she called again.

Blaine craned his neck, looking up as high as he could. Finally, he caught sight of his mother waving a large handkerchief out her window. “I see you!” he called, waving excitedly.

“Come up here, my dear. I need to talk to you about something important.”

Nodding, he called back, “I be dere soon, Mommy!” Then, he raced as fast as his tiny little legs could carry him to one of the castle doors. He pounded as hard as he could on the wooden door until it swung open, a tall knight looking down at him.

“Little Prince,” the knight said, bowing low. “And where might you be off to in such a rush?”

“Mommy needs me!” Blaine explained, racing past the knight and toward the stairs that would take him to the second floor.

“Slow down!” the knight called after him. “I don’t want you to fall, Little Prince!”

Blaine didn’t hear him. He was too busy rushing up the stairs, doing his best not to slip. It was hard, though. The stairs were unevenly spaced and a little rough, and more than once, his little foot barely caught the lip of the step.  Finally, he did stumble once, catching himself on his right elbow.

“Ow!” he yelled loudly, standing up and rubbing at his elbow. Tears prickled at the backs of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. It was his fault; he shouldn’t have been rushing so much to make it up the stairs. So, he took them much slower now, holding his elbow tightly. His mommy would know what to do.

When he finally arrived at her room, he found his mother’s chamber door already opened. So, he slipped in, smiling when she immediately greeted him from her chair beside the open window.

“Hello, darling!” she said, holding out her arms for him to race into them. When he didn’t let go of his elbow, however, she frowned, stopping him before he could lean against her chest. “What happened to my little baby?”

“Isn’t nuffin’, Mommy,'' Blaine tried to tell her. “And, I’m not a baby, Mommy. Coop calls me dat, an’ it hurts my feelin’s.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt my sweet boy’s feelings,” his mother cooed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. “May I see your owie anyway? I know you’re a big boy, but I want to kiss it better.”

Blaine reluctantly showed it to her, smiling when she gave it a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he told her, hugging her tightly. Then, he asked, “Why you needed to see me?”

“Oh! I nearly forgot.” His mother smiled mischievously, leaning in as though she had a secret to tell him. “Your father and I thought it would be fun to take you and your brother out for a picnic today.” She leaned back, studying his face. “What do you think of that?”

“Hmmm,” Blaine answered, tapping his chin in thought. Then, he smiled, throwing his arms wide. “Is an ex’llent idea, Mommy! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, my darling. Will you snuggle with me while your father and brother finish up a very important meeting? Once they’re finished, we’ll get the picnic basket from the cook and walk out to the place where we’re going to have our picnic.”

“Okay,” Blaine said, nodding. “I like to snuggle wif you, Mommy.” He climbed up on her lap, settling in where he could gaze out the window. From up there, they had a great view of the small forest not far in the distance and the brilliantly blue sky with its tiny, wispy, white clouds.

They didn’t speak for a little while, Blaine looking out the window and his mother drawing gentle patterns on his skin with this fingertip. When it didn’t seem like her son was going to talk, Pam Anderson asked, “What’s on your mind, my darling?”

“I’m ‘magining when I’m big,” Blaine explained to her. “Will I go to meetings wif Daddy and Cooper, Mommy? I will get to do big person stuff an’ make some ‘portant ‘cisions?”

Pam swallowed. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to say yes, but as the second born, only if Cooper were incapable of ruling would Blaine be included in things like this. He was far too little to have any conversations about marriage and princesses; that could wait for another day. So, instead, Pam said, “You’re growing wrinkle lines, my darling.” She smoothed a hand gently over his forehead, pressing a kiss there. “Such big things to think about for such a little boy. Let’s save those worries for another day and think about something happier, shall we?”

Blaine frowned. He’d seen his mommy and daddy do that before, and he did not like to be ignored. He was big enough to know stuff. Cooper said he was, too. Nevertheless, he wanted to have a nice morning with his mother, so he relented, nodding. “Okay, Mommy.”

“My good boy,”  she praised, pulling him back tightly against her chest. “Do you know why I’m excited to go on a picnic today?” she asked him.

“Is it acuz you like bein’ outside, Mommy? Wif the sunshine an’ the pretty f’owers an’ the trees.”

“Well, that is part of it,” Pam chuckled. “But that isn’t all of it.”

“What else?” Blaine wanted to know, shifting a little bit in her lap so he could look at her face.

“I’m excited, because I get to go out on a special date with the three most handsome boys in the whole kingdom of Zira,” she announced. “Think about that! I am just one girl, but I get to go out with all the best boys! I’m so lucky.”

“We’s lucky, too, Mommy,” Blaine declared. “You’re the most prettiest girl in Zira.”

“What a gentleman,” his mother told him, giving him another squeeze. “Who taught you how to be so well-mannered and smart?”

“You did, Mommy! An’ Daddy, too!”

“I helped!” a voice declared from the hallway. Then, in marched Cooper Anderson, looking quite fine in his prim and proper purple jacket, purple knickers, tall white socks, and his collared and frilled white shirt. His black buckle shoes were well-polished, and he stood tall and proud, his hands tucked firmly behind his back.

“Coop!” Blaine yelled, jumping out of his mother’s lap to wrap his arms around his older brother.

“Hi, squirt,” Coop said. He patted lightly at Blaine’s back with one hand, but he didn’t hug him back. He was 13 now, being groomed to be king someday. He didn’t want to show affection to anyone where someone could see him; it would make him look weak, the first sign of a poor leader. His mother wasn’t sold on that idea, and when it was just the three of them, he’d hug Blaine back. But his father could come around the corner at any moment and catch him. The King wasn’t likely to actually say anything to him about it, but he’d raise his eyebrow in that way that Cooper hated; besides, he just wasn’t in the mood to see that right then, especially not after just being allowed into his first meeting.

“Not squirt,” Blaine muttered, glaring at his brother when he pulled back. His expression quickly changed into a far more excited and eager look. “You tell me all ‘bout your meeting, Coop? You maked lots of ‘portant ‘cisions?”

Cooper opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but thankfully, his mother saved him.

“Blaine,” she reprimanded gently, “we agreed to save those worries for another day, didn’t we?” She raised an eyebrow at him. When the little boy nodded, she said, “Let your brother go change into something a little more comfortable for our picnic. The sooner he and your father are ready, the sooner we’ll be able to go.”

Blaine nodded, backing away from his brother. “You can go, Coop. You tell me later,” he said softly, watching as his brother strode importantly out of the room. He’d give anything to be as ‘portant as his brother someday.

“Come here, my sweet boy,” his mother crooned, calling him back to her with a crook of her finger. 

Slowly, the little boy padded back to her, leaning heavily against her instead of climbing back into her lap.

“I know you want to be just like your brother,” she crooned softly, running gentle fingers through his soft, bouncy curls. “Someday, you’ll find your purpose, my son. You’ll find something that makes you important, and to someone, you’ll be the most important thing in the world. You just need to have patience, my darling. Your day will come. But you’re allowed to be little for a while longer yet. Don’t carry the weight of the world on your little shoulders. Enjoy your youth while you can.”

Blaine sighed. He and his mommy had this talk a lot. It didn’t make his longing any better, but he knew she was right. And, her fingers did feel good, combing through his hair. “Okay, Mommy,” he whispered, letting his eyes slip shut for a few moments. “I be small today.”

“Good boy,” Pam murmured, not stopping her massage.

Soon, King Hicket Anderson came into his wife’s chambers. “How’s my darling wife today?” he boomed, bending to kiss her lips. “And, my favorite three-year-old?”

“Mommy sayed we’re havin’ a picnic!” Blaine declared, beaming up at his father. “Coop wen’ to change into something comfy. You ready, Daddy?”

“I am,” the king answered, scooping his son up and settling him on his shoulders. He grinned widely as the little boy grabbed tufts of his hair, holding on tight. “The real question is, are you ready up there?” he asked, looking up as best he could without moving his head.

“Ready!” Blaine answered. “Let’s go!”

“We have to wait fo--” Pam started to say, but she was interrupted by a loud, “Ready!” from the hallway.

Cooper poked his head around the corner. “You got tall, squirt,” he said, grinning. Then, he left again, marching his way through the hallways and down the stairs to the waiting footman, their picnic basket swung over his arm. “I’ll take that,” Cooper announced, swiping the basket. “You’re dismissed.”

“My Prince. My Queen. My King. Little Prince,” the footman said, bowing low to each of them before entering the castle, shutting the door behind him.

It didn’t take the little troupe long before they reached their picnicking spot, an old favorite of Pam and Hicket’s from when they were courting. Set back just a few yards into the tree line, there was a shady alcove that led to a small, leaf-laden trail that wound its way through the little patch of woods. Somewhere in the middle lay the border of their kingdom, the one that touched the Kingdom of Cicuria. No one knew exactly where that line was, but both kingdoms knew it existed.

It was rumored that a special tree grew somewhere in the midst of these tiny woods, capable of giving people a mark that would match their soulmates’, the one Fate had chosen for them to spend eternity with. No one had ever seen it, and the tree was not well-marked. Soulmates were not...sought after, and the theory of soulmates was a mere myth to most anyway. Most inhabitants of the local kingdoms were content to find and fall in love the way their ancestors had for centuries before them, matches being made based on looks and familial alliances, most often without feelings being involved. It had long been decided that feelings complicated things too much; if a person were matched with someone, feelings would develop over time. There was no need for them to begin with.

Pam was a fan of stories, and she often told her sons about the myths and legends passed down through the generations. Blaine, of course, knew the story of the soulmate tree, and he asked his father about it as they walked toward their picnic spot. “Daddy, can we look for the ‘pecial tree Mommy telled me ‘bout?”

“What special tree, Little Prince?” the king asked, jostling his son just a bit where he rested on his shoulders.

“The one Mommy sayed would help you find a-a-a--” He frowned, unable to remember the word. “What it called, Coop?” he called up to his brother.

“Soulmate,” Cooper hollered back. “They’re not real, squirt. Remember? Just silly stories Mother told us when we were little.”

“Mommy, is, um, is them so-so’mates real?”

“Some people believe they are, my darling,” his mother answered with a soft smile. “What do you think? Are soulmates real?”

Blaine tapped his chin thoughtfully. “They has to be,” he finally decided. “Otherwise, how you would know who to marry and make into beautiful princes and princesses?”

From the front of the group, Coop chuckled. “Right. Well, if that’s true, you’ll have to prove it,” he said sarcastically.

“How I do that, Coop?” Blaine wanted to know, squealing when his father suddenly swung him down from his shoulders. They’d reached the edge of the woods, and there were a few low-hanging branches that would decapitate the both of them if Blaine was still on his shoulders. The little boy ran to his brother’s side just as Cooper set the picnic basket down. “How I do that?” he asked again.

“Do what?” Cooper asked, already having moved on from the topic of soulmates.

“How I prove there is so’mates?”

Cooper shrugged. “I dunno, squirt. I guess you’d have to…” He trailed off, trying to come up with something that would be impossible for his brother to do. “I guess you’d have to get your own soulmark.”

“What’s a so’mark?” Blaine wanted to know. His mommy had mentioned one in her stories, but he wanted more details, so he could know exactly what he was looking for should it happen.

“It’s like a tattoo, my sweet boy,” his mother said. “Let’s put away soulmates and soulmarks for now, however, and come enjoy this wonderful picnic. I’m sure you’re both hungry.” She gestured for both of them to find a seat on the large blanket she and Hicket had spread out on the ground.

Blaine rushed over, settling down near his mother and leaning on her knee, his head in his hands, looking excitedly at her. “Mommy, you tell us the so’mate story ‘gain during  da picnic?”

“Do you want to hear it again?” she asked, brushing at his curls.

Nodding, Blaine enthused, “Lots and lots!”

“If you promise you’ll eat while I tell the story, then, of course, I will,” she declared, trailing her finger down his forehead to tap lightly against his nose.

“Promise,” Blaine said, sitting up long enough to make a big “X” over his heart. “I’m hungry!” 

“Grab some bread then,” Cooper told him, passing the loaf to him that both he and the king had already taken chunks from. 

“You listen, too, Coop?” Blaine asked as his mother helped him to tear off a chunk of bread.

“Would be hard not to,” the older boy groused, taking a big bite out of the fresh, sweet bread. “I guess it’s not such a bad little story,” he admitted. “Go ahead, Mother.”

Pam smiled at her eldest son, delighted he was indulging his little brother. It made her heart sing when her boys got along, and it was clear for everyone to see just how much Blaine looked up to his older brother. She turned her smile to her husband, long enough to see him nod approvingly at them before she began her tale.

“A long, long time ago, there was a love so pure and wonderful that even the gods took notice. Even though it was an untraditional love, it transcended time and worlds, and the tale was told across the globe.”

“Mommy, what’s unt-untra-untradish’nal?”

“Untraditional means that it was something not everyone approved of.”

Blaine nodded, satisfied.  

“So, the gods decided that they should create a monument to this amazing love, a place where others could meet and be turned into soulmates, just like the original lovers. So, the gods located the very tree beneath which the two lovers were reunited after a long separation. This tree was one the lovers had cried on, tears of joy upon seeing the other alive and well, and the gods decided this was the monument they would build. So, they touched the tree, making it very special.”

“Mommy, what made it special?”

“Patience, my darling,” Pam said, smiling at her youngest son. “You’ll spoil the story before it’s time.”

“A rumor quickly spread throughout the kingdoms, telling every person, young and old, that the gods had created a very special tree, a tree which could bring you love, someone to want you and need you for always. The rumor told of a beautiful tree, a perfect tree, with the brightest green leaves and sturdy branches of any tree in the whole world. The rumor said that if two people, meant to love one another for all eternity, touched the tree at the same time, it would turn a beautiful golden color, and the two people would be marked with an identical symbol, a symbol which would tell all the world that they had somewhere to belong. The only thing the rumor didn’t say was where the tree could be found.”

“Because it doesn’t exist,” Cooper muttered, reaching into the picnic basket for a hunk of cheese. “It’s just an old wives tale.”

“Nuh-uh! Mommy, tell him it’s true!” Blaine begged. He knew it was. He couldn’t tell anyone why if they’d asked him, but he knew deep in his heart that this story was more than a legend; it was the truth, and someday, he’d find the soulmate tree.

Cooper was just opening his mouth to tell Blaine how wrong he was when his mother cut him off.

“Let your brother believe if he wants, my son,” she told Cooper. “There is no reason to destroy his dreams with your own.” When her son frowned but said nothing else, Pam went on.

“Many people believed the rumor and searched and searched for many years, trying to find the tree that the gods had touched. But no one was ever successful. It was rumored that, someday, the two lovers who’d first cried on the tree would return. They would find one another again at the god’s special tree and open it for each and every person who desired someone to love. But as the years wore on and no one discovered the tree, the rumor became a legend, then a myth, a story passed from mothers and fathers to their daughters and sons. Perhaps, one day, the two lovers will return and reunite at the tree. Perhaps, even someone listening to this story right now will be able to unleash its powers.”

Pam stopped and looked between her sons. “And, that’s as far as the story goes because no one has found the tree yet.”

Blaine took another bite of his bread. “I will, Mommy,” he declared. “I find it someday.”

“I’m sure you will, my darling,” she said, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Now, eat up. If there’s time, you can play in the woods for a while before we return to the castle.”

That lit a fire beneath the three-year-old, and he quickly ate as much bread, cheese, and fruit as he wanted until he was shoving it away, complaining of his tummy hurting. For a few minutes, he laid back on the blanket, staring at the tiny wisps of cloud and small chunks of sky he could see peeking in between the branches of the trees. It was relaxing to watch the clouds float by. In fact, it almost lulled him to sleep, but he realized how much better he felt shortly after that. Sitting up, he scooted across the blanket to where his brother was sitting, listening as his parents talked about something Blaine had no interest in. “Coop?” he asked, tugging gently at his sleeve. “Coop, you play with me?”

Cooper shook his head. “Not now. I’m busy.”

“Please? I wanna play!”

“Go play by yourself. I’m busy!”

“But Coop I--”

“Squirt, I said no!” the older boy hissed, glaring at Blaine.

Sadly, Blaine nodded, scooting away and crawling off the blanket. When he was on his feet, he dusted himself off, turning once more to look sadly in his brother’s direction.

Cooper took one look at his brother’s face and sighed heavily, crooking a finger at him. “Come here,” he mouthed to the little boy.

Blaine raced around the blanket, coming to stand beside his brother. 

“I have a mission for you,” Cooper whispered in his ear. “I want you to start looking for the special tree that Mother told us about in her story. Take a stick with you, and check every one. Mark the ones you check with a ‘B’ in the dirt. Can you do that? I’ll come to find you soon.”

Blaine nodded very seriously. He was about to take off when he remembered something. “Coop,” he said, squatting beside his brother. “I dunno how to make a ‘B.’”

“Make an ‘X’ then,” Cooper replied, waving him off. “Go on. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

At that, Blaine took off, quickly locating a stick that was sturdy enough to write in the dirt with. Then, he began to walk to every tree in the little section of the woods. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he walked all around it and studied the leaves closely. His mommy had said that the leaves would be perfect, and the branches would be strong. So, he immediately discarded any tree that had broken branches or lots of fallen leaves around it. He quickly marked those trees with an “X” and moved on. 

The closer he moved to the center of the woods, though, the harder it was to decide if each tree was perfect or not. He had to spend a lot of time walking around the tall trunks, searching for low-hanging leaves he could look at, and oftentimes, he had to try to jump to reach a branch with leaves. If he was too short, he decided that the tree was not perfect, and he moved on. The only thing he took with him besides his stick was one beautiful pink flower he found growing beside an old, decaying log. He wanted to give it to his mother.

Finally, he reached a tree that was very hard to rule out. It had a fat, wide trunk with very smooth bark and long, wide branches that swooped down low and raised up high in the sky. There was even a low enough branch for him to reach a leaf on, and the leaf looked perfect, each edge perfectly pointed, and each vein dark and green against the lighter shades of the leaf. There was, however, one small imperfection near the bottom of the tree, a tiny place where it looked like the tree had split a little. It was so far down that Blaine almost didn’t see it, but it was there nonetheless. He circled the tree a few times, finally crouching down beside it with his stick at the ready, prepared to draw an “X” and move on. However, something didn’t feel right about that, and he hesitated. And, in that small moment of hesitation, he heard a gasp.

Raising his head sharply, Blaine saw the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen staring back at him. The boy had straight brown hair that was parted on one side, his bangs swept over and covering most of his forehead. He had blue eyes that were clearly the color of ghosted mist across a blue lake, and he looked lost and frightened. Blaine longed to reach out to him and say something, but as he stood, the little boy backed away, hiding behind the tree. Perhaps he should hide, too?

Blaine stood with his back pressed to the tree for a moment, wondering what had happened. Who is that boy? Where is he from? Blaine wondered. He couldn’t get the image of him out of his head, and something compelled him to peek. So, he slowly turned, placing his hands against the trunk of the tree and leaning to his right as far as he dared. A moment later, the other little boy’s face appeared mere inches from Blaine’s own, his hands, which were full of flowers, braced against the tree, peering at him, too. This time, they both gasped, and returned to hiding behind the tree.

But Blaine still wasn’t satisfied, so he leaned the other way. Again, there was the other little boy, flecks of light shining off his beautiful brown hair.

This is fun, Blaine thought to himself. Leaning to his right again, he was delighted to see that the other little boy was smiling, enjoying their game of peek-a-boo. This went on for a few more minutes until there was the sound of a woman’s voice saying, “Oh! There you are!” 

At the sound of the woman’s voice, Blaine froze. He didn’t want the other woman to see him for fear of getting in trouble, but he didn’t want to look away from his new friend. So, he listened quietly as the woman began to lead the other little boy away, still peeking at him. He thought he heard her call the other boy “Kurt” but he couldn’t be sure. She was speaking in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear properly. A moment later, she was leading his new friend away from the tree. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, frowning for a moment, and Blaine was sure he was caught. She was going to tell his parents, and he’d be in trouble for wandering too far away. However, when she turned and kept walking, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was safe.

Suddenly, from behind him, he heard, “Blaine? Blaine? Where are you?” It was his parents, both of them calling for him.

“I’m here,” he said. “By the tree.”

A moment later, his parents appeared on the trail. “Thank goodness,” Pam said, dropping to her knees beside him. “What were you doing all the way back here?”

“Cooper telled me to find the special tree from the story, Mommy,” Blaine explained.

“Are you hurt?” his father asked. “Were you safe?”

“I is okay,” Blaine confirmed, taking his parents' hands as they were offered to him. Together, the three of them started back down the trail toward their blanket. As he walked, Blaine felt the urge to look back over his shoulder. When he did, he saw his new friend standing near the tree, looking in his direction, a sad look on his face. Blaine flashed him a smile.

“What are you looking at, my darling?” Pam asked, turning to look with him. Her question drew Hicket’s attention as well. When they both looked over their shoulder, they saw a little boy standing by the tree where they’d just collected their son. Pam raised an eyebrow in question, meeting her husband’s gaze. The king shrugged, but nonetheless, they picked up their pace, high-tailing it back to their blanket and their oldest son. They were ready to return to the castle.

“Pick up the blanket, Cooper, and let’s go back home. I’m feeling quite tired,” Pam instructed, handing Hicket the nearly empty basket. “And, never tell your brother to wander off again.”

Cooper began to protest. “I didn’t. I was jus--” But at his mother’s raised brow, he stopped, hanging his head in shame. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.

“And, you,” Hickey said, turning to Blaine, “need to please stay where we can see you next time. You gave your mother quite a fright.”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Blaine quickly apologized, hugging Pam’s leg tightly.

“You’re forgiven, my darling,” she said. “Now, climb up on your father’s shoulders, and let’s go home.”

Blaine giggled as the king, who’d taken a few steps outside of the tree line to avoid the low branches, swung his son up onto his shoulders again. He loved being so tall, able to see the whole world from his vantage point. They hadn’t gone far, however, before Blaine realized that being tall also meant being hotter. “Mommy, my coat’s too hot,” he complained.

“Get your brother’s coat, Cooper,” Pam commanded.

The older boy sighed but did as he was told. As the coat slid from Blaine’s shoulders, it revealed a long, dark mark on his upper right arm. “Mother?” Cooper asked, furrowing his brow as he gestured towards Blaine’s arm. “What’s this?”

King Hicket stopped, swinging his son down from his shoulders. “What’s wha--Oh…” he said, seeing the mark on Blaine’s arm. “Pam?”

“It looks like...Oh...I, well, I don’t know. Blaine, do you…?”

“What?” the little boy asked, looking down at his arm. He wasn’t sure what the big deal was. It was probably just a little dirt. He was surprised to see something much darker against his olive skin. It looked like…

Pam’s eyes were wide as she met her husband’s.

The king met her gaze and shook his head. It was a conversation for later, not one to be had in front of their sons. “Come on,” he said, deciding to pretend like everything was normal. “Let’s go home. Your mother is tired.”

“But what’s on my arm, Daddy?” Blaine asked as the king once again hoisted him onto his shoulders.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Little Prince,” the king told him, resuming their walk. “I’m sure it will come off in a bath.”

It never did.

***

Meanwhile, in a tiny cabin hidden in the woods, two middle-aged women were talking quietly, watching their three-year-old son playing on the floor of their small home. Beside them, on a rickety wooden table sat a crystal ball. Suddenly, it began to glow, lighting up the room with a new light.

“It’s happening, Liz!” one of the women said, turning with excitement to watch the tiny picture in the ball. “The All-Knowing said it was coming!”

“Yes!” the other woman cheered. “I’ve been waiting for this moment!”

“What is it, Mommy? What is it, Mama?” the little boy asked, abandoning what he’d been doing on the floor.

“Come here, Sebastian,” one of the women said, patting her lap. “You can watch, too.” 

The three of them peered into the crystal ball on the table, watching as two small boys saw one another for the first time and played peek-a-boo around the base of a glowing, golden tree. As each of their parents led them away, the image in the crystal ball faded. The two women grasped hands, letting out excited squeals.

“What happen?” Sebastian wanted to know. “Mommy, what happen?”

“Hush, darling,” one of the women told him. 

“No, Jan. It’s okay. He can know.”

“But he wouldn’t understand.”

At that, the little boy whined. “Jus’ tell me!” He hated when his parents did this, tried to keep secrets from him.

Liz reached down, pulling the little boy back into her lap. “You just saw something very important,” she told him, her words whispered near his ear. “Something that will change the course of the world forever.”

“Even for me, Mama?” Sebastian wanted to know.

“Yes, my darling,” Liz assured him, beginning to rock him just a little. “Even for you.”

Chapter Text

“Your majesty?” a servant said, sticking his head into King Burt’s chambers. 

The royal was sitting behind his desk, working on some correspondences, and he looked up at the interruption. “Yes?”

“The representative for the Kingdom of Zira is waiting in the meeting hall.”

King Burt frowned. “Representative? I specifically asked for an audience with the King.”

The servant looked panicked as he replied, “I-I’m not sure, your majesty. The-the man waiting for you isn’t King Hicket, however, sir. I’m terribly sorry.”

“No matter,” the King replied, rising from his seat behind his desk and waving his hand dismissively at the servant. “You’re not in trouble. You didn’t send the man to me. Have no fear. I’ll see myself down to the meeting hall. Thank you.”

Bowing low, the servant dismissed himself, taking off in the opposite direction of the King as he left his chambers, turning to his left and walking swiftly down the dimly lit corridors. 

Probably off to gossip, the King mused to himself, smiling at the thought. He wondered idly whom the King of Zira had sent in his place. This was a very important meeting, and King Burt hoped it was at least another member of the royal family, his son perhaps, that could assist him with the dealings he would be inquiring about. He’d heard rumors of unrest and war in some of the surrounding kingdoms, and he was hopefully going to make a treaty with Zira to protect one another should their respective thrones be threatened. Kurt should probably be here for this conversation , Burt thought to himself as he neared the meeting room, but the kid tells his mother everything. The last thing I want to do is frighten them when there may be no need. He can learn treaty negotiations another time. I’ll handle this.

When King Burt pushed opened the doors to the meeting room, he was greeted by a tall man in royal blue knickers, tall white socks, a ruffled white shirt with a navy waistcoat, and beautifully shined black shoes with gleaming golden buckles. He wasn’t sure what to make of the stranger, but he did his best to smile, though he didn’t come close to matching the grin on the other man’s face. “Welcome,” he boomed as he closed the space between them. “Welcome to Cicuria.”

“Your majesty,” the man said, bowing.

Burt couldn’t help but think that the bow was slightly mocking, but he ignored the feeling, brushing it aside. The lad obviously knew who he was. He should learn his name, too. “Please call me Sir or Burton, my formal name.” There’s that too bright grin again.

“I’m Cooper, King Hicket’s son.”

“Ah,” Burt said, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Cooper to do the same. “I hope all is well with the King. I’d put in a request for his presence, so I must assume he was unable to acquiesce.” And didn’t just flat out refuse, he thought.

“I’m afraid my father is a bit under the weather,” Cooper admitted, sitting down as well. “He’s working with the best healers in the kingdom, so we’re hopeful he’ll be back to himself in no time. Of course, this knowledge must not leave this room. We’d hate to think of what could happen should that information land in the wrong hands.” He looked at Burt meaningfully.

He’s good. Quite astute for a man who comes off as not really giving a shit , Burt thought, impressed. “Of course. I only wish the best for your father; no ill, I swear.”

“I assumed,” Cooper said dismissively. 

“Actually, safety is one of the many reasons I called for a meeting with your father,” Burt said, settling into his chair and leaning back to get comfortable. If he was right, they were going to be here for a while, and there was no sense sitting formally for longer than one needed to.

Cooper sat back as well, mimicking him. “Was it?” he asked, feigning interest. “I’d love to know more about that.”

“Well, I’m sure you know by now that the Kingdom of Catish to my south and the Kingdom of Flynt to my east have had a bit of a falling out following the death of the late Queen Emma. They’ve declared war on one another, and there is a rumor being spread that King William has an insatiable need to acquire new lands as a placeholder for his grief over his Queen.” 

Nodding, Cooper replied, “I had heard most of that, yes. However, I heard it was the Queen of Catish, Susan, that had a grudge against King William. Something about his hair and a royal ball they both attended some years prior. It is no secret that Queen Susan is a bit clumsy on her feet, and she blames King Wiliam’s curls for her fall.”

Both of them chuckled for a few moments, remembering some of the more outlandish comments that Queen Susan had made in both of their kingdoms over the years. “I suppose anything is possible,” Burt agreed after a few beats. “Still, I’m seeking allies for protection. The last thing I need is to have the walls of my castle stormed by an angry King or Queen with no warning or additional troops.”

“I agree that would be unwise.”

“So, I was hoping that Zira and Cicuria could join forces, combining armies should it come to protecting our kingdoms and castle walls.”

“There is certainly wisdom in that,” Cooper agreed. “My father said as much to me as I was preparing to come here this morning. I think, supposing as we could agree to a few other mutually beneficial agreements, that a treaty to protect one another could be formed as well.”

“What does King Hicket have in mind?” Burt asked, raising an eyebrow. And, here I thought the boy was operating off of his own brains.

“First, a crop trade,” Cooper said, sitting up. “Cicuria grows the best potatoes of any kingdom around, and my father is desperate for some, both to distribute to the people but also to add to the castle’s staples. He had one recently at the wedding of Princess Berry and Prince Hudson, and he hasn’t been able to quit talking about them since.”

“And, what does Zira offer that Cicuria doesn’t already have?”

“Well, what we’d offer is much less of a crop and much more of a well-kept secret,” Cooper told him, giving the King a wink.

Burt was not dissuaded. “You’ll find that getting to the point goes a long way with me,” he advised the younger man. “What is this secret you speak of?”

“Recently, the royal cooks in my kingdom have concocted a delicious meal that nearly beats meat.”

Brow furrowed, Burt asked, “And, what would that be?”

“They call it pasta,” Cooper said. “It’s a flour and milk mixture that they put a delightful tomato sauce on. We’d like the opportunity to teach your cooks and provide your castle with tomatoes in exchange for potatoes.”

“You want to supply our castle while we provide for your entire kingdom? That hardly seems like  solid trade.”

“But you see,” Cooper pushed, desperate to sell this idea to the older royal. He may have stretched the truth about who it was in the kingdom who actually wanted the potato, and he needed the King to agree. “Your entire kingdom grows potatoes. Only the royal gardens have tomatoes, and this is a much smaller area from which to cultivate the gold.”

That got Burt to chuckle. “What makes you think that the Kingdom of Cicuria is hungry for this pasta?”

“Well, I know you wouldn’t know it to look at me,” Cooper began, indicating his slim figure, “but I’ve put a few inches onto my belt with the stuff. You’ll never want to stop eating it, and your waistline will thank you if you don’t desire to keep it trim.”

Kurt really could use some meat on him. He’s little more than skin and bones, the kid, Burt thought to himself, considering the proposal. Eventually, however, he stuck out his hand to the younger man. “Cicuria will be honored to supply potatoes to Zira once the cooks in my castle have learned the secrets of this pasta dish you speak of.”

“Our cooks will be over tomorrow,” Cooper promised, his mouth watering as he remembered the delightful taste of potato on his tongue. “You can count on that.”

Burt chuckled to himself. “What other demands did King Hicket have for me?” he asked, getting comfortable once again.

“Well,” Cooper said with a small grin, “we need donkeys. Our asses aren’t cutting it, and we need more. My father heard that Cicuria had an overabundance of them, and we’re hoping we can buy some off of you.”

Holding back a laugh, Burt did his best to be serious. “How much are you prepared to offer?”

“Seven silver pieces.”

This time, Burt did laugh. “I should say not. My asses are worth at least 12 silver pieces each.”

“That’s nearly double!” Cooper protested. His father would have his ass--no pun intended--if he came home having made a deal for donkeys at 12 silver pieces each.

“Well, how many do you want?” Burt asked. “I could perhaps find a small discount if you were to take enough of them to make it worth my while.”

Cooper considered this. His father hadn’t given him a specific number, which helped but also hurt him. If he threw out the wrong number, one that was too low, he’d still have to pay 12 silver per animal. But, if he threw out a number that was far too high, he’d end up trailing far more donkeys than he’d ever hoped to see in his lifetime back to his castle. He wanted to gag at the thought of the stench he’d be following. No thank you!

“Well?”

“Nine,” Cooper settled on, sitting back. “We’d like nine asses.”

“Nine,” Burt said, tapping his chin. “If you take nine, I think I could be convinced to give them to you for 10 silver each instead.”

“Make it nine, and we’ll take them off your hands,” Cooper promised, ready to have this task off his plate. He was horrible with money, truth be told, and he had no idea if he was making a good deal or not.

“Nine it is,” Burt agreed. “Is there anything else or should I call in a servant to draw us up a written agreement?”

“There is one more thing,” Cooper said with a sigh, knowing this could be a hard sell. “My father has requested that you provide us with a token of devotion. If you prove you will be true to your word, we will return the token to you when the threat of war has vanished. Until then, we’ll keep it.”

Burt couldn’t help but feel like he was being lured into a trap. Why on Earth would they need a token of my allegiance? he wondered to himself. Would not my signature suffice on our agreement? Have I done something to make them believe I am not a man of my word? Deciding to simply ask instead of letting the idea simmer and piss him off, he asked very bluntly, “Why?”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Cooper rushed to say, realizing that he had very likely pissed the man off with his choice of words. “It’s just that my father has been taken advantage of on more than one occasion when he has extended his kindness to another royal family. Typically, his assistance is not returned in kind when it is needed, and he’s discovered that by having a prized token, other royals are much more likely to keep their promises.”

“As unfortunate as that may be, I am a man of my word. I have no reason to provide you with a token of devotion. In fact, how do I know that you would return it or, as your father is concerned, not keep your word in regards to protecting my kingdom should the need arise.”

Cooper sighed. They’d had a back-up plan, but he’d been hoping not to use it. “My father feared you might believe this. He knew he was putting you in an awkward position by asking you to trust him in this way, so he suggested I come up with a more permanent arrangement that would render the need for any written contract or future negotiations of this kind needless.”

Burt tapped his chin thoughtfully. What could he mean ? “What kind of ‘permanent arrangement’ are you referring to?”

“My father actually presented the idea to me, that there might be a...ceremony...we could arrange.”

“A ceremony?”

Cooper sighed again. Old man… he grumped to himself. “A marriage arrangement.”

“Ah…” Burt replied. He’d considered this in the past, 18 years ago when they’d gotten the announcement that a young princess was born in Zira not long after the birth of his son. He hadn’t given it a whole lot of thought since then, and as he did now, he got a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. His son would not like being used as a pawn for his father’s treaties, but maybe it would be good for him. So far, he’d shown no interest in finding a princess to marry and carry on the royal legacy, and Burt had to admit that they had to consider the kingdom’s need for a married heir, especially with the threat of war pounding on their doorstep. Burt wasn’t planning for anything to happen. He wasn’t even planning to be pulled into a battle if he could help it. However, life was never about what one had managed to plan, and they needed to have an answer for the question of what would happen should some horrible incident or illness befall him. I’m sure King Hicket is thinking the same since he is ill. Obviously, his son would take over the throne, but I’m sure he’d like to have the assurance that someone is taking care of his daughter as well.

“I can see that you’re mulling it over,” Cooper mused, watching the older royal’s face carefully. “Despite having me to take over the throne should anything happen, my father likes to be certain that his entire family is taken care of.”

“As do I,” Burt reassured him. “Your father is a wise man, and it is right for him to think about what would happen to all his family members, not just his heir. He’s a just man.”

“He is indeed. As are you, good sir, to consider your need for a ruler should something happen.”

Burt frowned at the phrasing. I already have a ruler in my son , he thought to himself. But he brushed the mistake off as the younger man misspeaking and continued as though nothing had happened. “For this arrangement to work, would your father be requiring anything further from me?”

“No. This arrangement would simply seal our treaty for peace and protection, rendering them needless in the future as we would have an eternal bond to fall back on.”

“Another wise decision,” Burt mused aloud.

“Would you require anything from my father?”

“No. I believe he is correct. An arrangement like this would act as a permanent treaty between our two kingdoms. There would be no sense in requiring anything further.”

“So, shall we get that servant in here to make it all official?” Cooper asked, hoping that the King would agree. He was ready to go home and out of the stuffy meeting room. Blaine would, of course, be none too happy that he’d been assigned to marry a princess for the good of the kingdom, but he’d get over it. He’d told Cooper many times that he was willing to protect his kingdom and his father’s good name. He would just have to look at this marriage as that sacrifice. There was nothing else to be done.

Burt nodded. “Indeed.” He rose, going to the chamber door and speaking to the servant who’d been stationed there to keep anyone from interrupting them. “Go to my study, find a quill and a blank piece of paper, and bring them back to me. Additionally, send for Samuel and have him come to me along with the materials.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the servant replied, taking off for the King’s chambers and to send someone after Samuel.

The two royals chit-chatted for a while as they waited for the quill, paper, and servant to arrive. They discussed their respective kingdom’s crops, the weather, and whatever small things they could think of.

Finally, Samuel arrived with the quill and paper. He bowed low as he entered the meeting chamber. “Your majesty. Your majesty,” he said, nodding his head to each man before standing again.

“Samuel, we would like you to write up our treaty contract for us. This one is special, involving a marriage, so we’ll need you to listen carefully and write down exactly what you hear. Can you do that?” Burt asked, giving the servant a soft smile. He liked nearly everyone who worked for him in his castle, and while he knew it went against most King’s ideals to treat their subjects with respect and kindness, he felt that this was the only way.

“I’ll do my best, your majesty,” Samuel said, bowing once again.

“Very well,” Burt told him. “Begin with the date.”

Slowly and laboriously, the two men laid out the contract for the servant boy, detailing each thing as they had agreed upon with no changes. When it was finished and Samuel was sure that the ink was dry, both men smiled, shaking each other’s hand.

“Quickly, Samuel, write up a second one for the young prince here to take home to his father. Then, he can be on his way,” Burt urged.

“Yes, your majesty,” Samuel replied, his hand already moving swiftly across the page as he hurried to write out another contract verbatim. 

King Burt and Prince Cooper talked for a few more minutes, making last-minute arrangements for the arrival of the Zira cooks and tomatoes and the delivery of the Cicuria donkeys and potatoes. “There is one last thing to be determined,” Burt said, noting that Samuel was on the final paragraph of their contract. “Where shall the wedding be held, and who shall be responsible for planning it. Would your father find it more agreeable if the wedding were held here? That way, he will feel no extra stress to prepare for the event outside of the garments; he can feel better before the day arrives.”

“That sounds agreeable to me,” Cooper said, sighing in relief that Burt had suggested it. He had no desire to help with planning a wedding. His own had been enough, and he never wanted to do that again. “When shall the ceremony take place?”

“Would you find next week to be agreeable with you? Say, Thursday? That will give King Hicket nearly eight days to heal.”

“Thursday is perfect,” Cooper agreed.

“Your majesty,” Samuel said softly. “Your contracts are finished and dried if your majesties would like to sign them.”

“Thank you, Samuel,” Burt replied, taking the proffered quill from his servant. He signed his name on each with a flourish before passing them and the quill off to the young prince. “I assume your father has granted you permission to sign a peace and protection treaty in his wake?”

“Indeed,” Cooper agreed. I can not wait to get out of this stuffy room and get back to using normal language, he told himself, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d just said the word “indeed.” That was totally not his style. Quickly, he signed the contracts, giving them back to the servant, Samuel, so one could be folded and sealed with King Burt’s royal seal.

Once he had the contract in hand, he was back in his carriage and off to Zira, breathing a sigh of relief. “That’s finally over,” he thought to himself.

***

When Burt left the meeting chambers, having seen the Prince of Zira off, he retired to his chambers once more to finish his correspondences. However, he couldn't focus. His thoughts kept going back to Kurt, wondering just how upset he was going to be at him for signing his life away to a princess he’d never met. He could clearly remember the night that himself, his wife, and Kurt had chatted around the dinner table, and his son had sworn he’d never marry someone he hadn’t met, someone he didn’t love. He’d only been six, but he knew, even then, what he wanted. 

His wife, Elizabeth, had chuckled at their son. “I hope that’s how it works out for you, Kurt. Love can be a wonderful thing, and you should love the princess you marry. Don’t forget, though, that sometimes, who you marry isn’t your choice. Sometimes, your father has to make decisions that are the best for the kingdom, and that may, someday, include your wife. Don’t worry, though. Love will come to the two of you later.” 

Kurt had frowned at that. “I don’t wanna marry someone yike that, Mommy,” he’d insisted. “I wanna fin’ someone who yoves me ‘fore we get married!”

“I hope you can do that, sweetheart,” Elizabeth had soothed him. “I just wanted you to be prepared.”

Just then, there came a knock and a soft, “Burt?” at the door to his chambers. His wife always did have impeccable timing.

“Come in,” Burt called out to her. When she pushed open the door and peered around it, Burt gave her his most convincing smile. It wasn’t good enough.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, closing the door softly behind her and padding over to him. He pulled her down into his lap, and she cuddled in close, running a gentle hand along his jawline. “Tell me what happened,” she instructed quietly.

“I, well, I had to do it, and I know he’s going to be so upset with me,” Burt whispered, trying to root himself in the feel of his wife’s tender touch across his cheek. “There was really no way around it, and I know it will be best for Cicuria, but he’s going to be so mad.”

“Kurt’s an 18-year-old man. He might be upset at first, but he can handle it. What happened?”

“Well, during our peace and protection negotiations Prince Cooper--apparently King Hicket has taken ill, so he sent his son in his stead--told me his father wanted a token of devotion they could hold on to until the threat of war had passed. Basically, it was a way for them to ensure I kept my word as I guess Hicket has had issues with that in the past.”

“Mhm…” Elizabeth agreed, nodding. She didn’t have a clue about how negotiations worked, but she believed her husband. “When I questioned him about it, the Prince said his father had suggested that we do something more permanent with war knocking on our door, and I couldn’t see past the wisdom in that. So, I agreed. Kurt is to be married to the Princess Anderson of Zira next Thursday evening. We’re holding the wedding here in order to give Hicket time to heal.”

Elizabeth nodded. “When are you going to tell him?”

Burt shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to tell him at all. What do you think would be best?”

“Tonight over dinner,” Elizabeth said with finality. “I’ll be there to help act as a buffer and calm him down. He’ll be alright. He won’t hate you.” She pressed a soft kiss to her husband’s temple, feathering her hand across his cheek again.

“Thank you, my love,” Burt told her. “I don’t know how I would survive without you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Elizabeth told him, smiling warmly as she rose. “I’ll be going back to my room and my needlepoint now. I just knew you’d need someone to talk to for a moment once he was gone.” She walked to the door and opened it wide, stepping out into the corridor.

“How do you always know?” Burt called after her.

His wife didn’t answer. She just gave him another big smile and left, stepping lightly down the hallway and back to her own chambers.

***

In Zira, when Cooper arrived back home, he sent straight to his father’s chambers with the contract, rapping neatly on his father’s door.

“Come in,” Hicket rasped.

Opening the door, Cooper took in his father’s room. He was lying on the bed, propped up with a few pillows, the shades completely drawn and only a faint bit of candlelight illuminating anything. According to the royal healers, there was a good chance that Hicket would pull through, but no one could say for sure how long it would take.

“My boy,” Hicket greeted. “You’re back from the peace and protection meeting. How did it go?” He gestured to the chair by his bed and watched as his son came over, settling on the edge.

“It went well,” Cooper told him. “We successfully bartered for potatoes and nine donkeys.”

“And, how did it go with the token of devotion?”

“Not so well at first,” Cooper admitted. “I had to go to our backup plan.”

The King’s face fell slightly. “You had to promise Blaine then?”

Cooper nodded solemnly. “I did. I know he’ll be upset, but there was nothing else to be done if we wanted their protection. King Burt wasn’t too thrilled to have to give us something to hold on to.”

“No doubt he was insulted,” Hicket agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “And, you’re right. Blaine will be angry for a time, but he’ll get over it, I’m sure. Once he realizes he’s doing this for his kingdom and his father’s good name, he’ll relent.”

“I certainly hope so,” Cooper sighed.

“So, when is it to happen?”

“Blaine is set to marry the Princess Hummel of Cicuria next Thursday at the Castle of Cicuria. King Burt offered to host to give you more time to heal,” Cooper told him. 

“Very noble of him,” Hicket remarked. 

“Father,” Cooper said, his voice shaking, “I know, because I am acting royal, that I should be the one to tell Blaine he’s been promised, but I really don’t want to. I don’t want him to hate me, and--” His voice broke, and he cut himself off, looking down at his hands. As a 28-year-old man, he had no business letting his emotions get the best of him, but when he thought of his tender little brother who was so eager to please and help his father, he couldn’t help it.

“Don’t worry, son,” Hicket assured him. “I’ll tell Blaine myself. You may be acting royal, but I’m still the boy’s father. He deserves to hear it from me.”

“When will you do it?” Cooper inquired softly.

“Tonight, after I’ve had my evening meal. I’ll call him in, and we’ll talk.”

“Thank you, Father,” Cooper whispered. “Do you need anything else?”

“Read me the contract?” Hicket asked. “I want to know exactly what the kingdom is in for.”

Cooper obliged, reading his father the single page contract. When he was finished, he laid the document on the King’s bedside table as he’d been asked, then went to the door, ready to leave.

“My son?” his father called out to him as he approached the door.

“Yes?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“Thank you. Go to your wife and seek comfort. I know your brother is weighing heavily on you, but fear not. He will see this is all worth it in due time. He won’t hate you. For now, let your wife help you relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

Cooper nodded once with a stiff smile before he opened the door and left, heading to his own chambers where he hoped his wife, Quinn, would be waiting for him. His father was right. He needed comfort, and he knew no one who could ease his fears and worries quite like his wife.

Chapter Text

When the Thursday of the wedding dawned, it was a beautiful spring morning. The sun was shining brightly, there were birds chirping merrily in the trees, and the gentle trickle of a nearby stream mixed with the gentle whoosh of a minuscule breeze floating by could be heard. 

“Rise and shine, your highness!” Samuel called out as he walked into Kurt’s chambers that morning and pushed open the window. “It’s a beautiful day for a wedding!”

Kurt grumbled something, throwing himself onto his other side and pulling a pillow over his head, burrowing deeper into his sheets.

“What was that, your highness?” Samuel asked, taking a few steps closer to the bed.

“Oh, cut the ‘your highness’ crap,” Kurt said. “You know I hate that, Sam. We’re practically best friends. The least you can do is show me some courtesy and friendship on my last day of being alive.”

“I thought you were getting married, not going to be beheaded.”

“I think beheading would be far less cruel,” Kurt pouted.

“Oh, come on.” Sam sat down on the bed beside the Prince, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “It won’t be that bad. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

At that, Kurt sat bolt upright. “What’s the worst that could happen? There are so many things, Sam! She could be ugly. She could be rude. She could be loud or unfashionable or-or green!” He was grasping at straws with that last one, he knew, but still. He couldn’t help it. Yet, there was something else that needed to be said. “She could be--I mean, she is--She’s a woman , Sam.”

“Princesses usually are. That’s why they’re called Princesses and not Princes. Why is that a problem?”

Kurt sighed. He hadn’t meant to be so forward first thing in the morning, but if he was going to be subjected to this horrible fate, then someone should know the truth about him. He took a deep breath before looking his servant friend directly in the face. “How long have we known one another?” he asked softly.

Sam shrugged. “Forever, I guess. We were born around the same time?”

“That’s right. And, we’ve been friends for almost that long, too, right?”

“Yeah.” Sam could not figure out where this was going.

“Okay. So, there’s something I need to share, and since you’re my best friend, have known me my whole life, you’re the person I want to share this with. You have to promise me, though, that you’ll never tell another living soul as long as you live.”

“Kurt, you’re scaring me. Can’t you just spit it out? I’m supposed to be getting you ready for your wedding, and even though your father is incredibly nice, he’s going to have my head if you’re not ready in time.”

“I’ll deal with that,” Kurt told him, waving off his concern. “This is more important. I want to tell you a story.”

“Okay…” Sam said, still not looking convinced. He was in no position to argue, however. His Prince was asking him to listen to a story, and that’s what he was going to do.

“You know about the bar on my arm, right?” Kurt asked, gesturing toward his right arm vaguely.

“Yeah. You’ve had it since you were a kid, right?”

“Right. My parents always told me it was to remind me that I was exceptional, and I believed them for a long time because I couldn’t remember anything about the day that I got it. That is until about six months ago…”

“What changed?” Sam asked, trying to think back. He couldn’t recall anything in particular that could have happened to spark such a memory in the last six months.

“I have no idea,” Kurt told him. “In fact, it took me a while to figure out that something had changed. I went out to the royal garden one day to read since it was so bright and sunny, and I wanted to soak up the fresh air. So, I sat down against one of the fruit trees and started to read. But pretty soon, the words on the page started to swim, and I was watching a little scene in the pages of my book. There were two little boys playing peek-a-boo around a tree. I thought, at first, that I must have fallen asleep and dreamt that, but when I watched the words move back to where they were supposed to be, I realized that that wasn’t the case. That was a memory, Sam, a memory that had been hidden until it came out in that little vision in my book. That was how I got my mark. And, it doesn’t mean what I’ve always believed it to mean.”

Sam’s eyes were wide as he tried to take in everything his Prince was saying. “So, you’re not very special?”

“No. I am, but not for the reason I thought.”

“I don’t get it,” Sam told him after a beat of silence, brow furrowed.

“Let me finish, and maybe you will,” Kurt chided gently. He knew he wasn’t being the most articulate guy ever, but he didn’t have all the right words he needed to tell Sam exactly what he was trying to say. “So, after I had my little vision, I went to my father’s library and went through every history book he had, trying to find answers to what could have caused the vision. But I couldn’t find anything. Finally, I called a meeting with my father’s wise woman, Jan, and asked her to explain. She told me an old story about a tree. She said that there were once two men--two Princes, rather--that fell in love around here hundreds of years ago. They were separated for a long while before being reunited in the woods beneath a tree. She said their tears of joy mixed together on the roots of one tree in particular, and because those two Princes’ souls were bound by a special soulmate bond, the tree had the ability to turn any two who touched it at the same time into soulmates. But the tree was lost for a long time, and no one knew where it was. The rumor was that only two with another special bond could find the tree and give it life again. What if…” Kurt paused, leaning in closer to Sam. “What if I’m one of them?”

There was silence between them for a few moments before Sam said, “And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Kurt roared, leaning backward. “My soulmate, that other little boy out there at the tree with me that day, he’s out there somewhere, and we’re supposed to be together. I’m sure he’s got a bar, too, and he’s wondering what in the hell it means. Yet, here I am, about to marry a fricking woman. I don’t even like women, Sam! I’m gay!” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Kurt clasped a hand over them, hoping with all his might that Sam hadn’t heard him. I hope nobody else did, either , he thought to himself. I really don’t want to have to explain myself.

“You’re gay?” Sam asked. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that before? Why didn’t you tell the King and Queen? Wouldn’t they support you? I mean, that’s perfectly valid! You’re allowed to like and love whoever you want.”

“Maybe for someone who’s not a Prince,” Kurt scoffed. “You don’t know of any Kingdoms which are ruled by two Kings instead of a King and Queen, do you?”

“No. But you could be the first.”

“Not likely. None of the royal families are looking to marry their sons off to other Kings’ sons. Besides all that, I don’t know if my soulmate was a Prince or not, not that I’m ever going to find out now. And, even if I could be the first to rule a Kingdom with two Kings, that doesn’t matter anyway. I’m betrothed for the good of my Kingdom, and there’s nothing I can do about it, soulmate or no. I didn’t get a say.”

“So you’ve said,” Sam deadpanned, looking down at the floor so his Prince wouldn’t see him roll his eyes.

Kurt glared at him, and his mind went back to his conversation with his father the week before.

***

It was a quiet supper, and Kurt could tell as soon as he walked into the dining hall that something was wrong. His parents, though they both smiled at him and greeted him warmly, seemed reserved and nervous, much more so than normal. “What’s going on?” Kurt asked as he settled into his chair, smiling when one of the kitchen servants set a tall goblet of wine in front of him along with a plate of steaming meat and potatoes. “You both look like you’re preparing to tell me that Lady Mystique, my horse, has perished.”

“No, sweetheart. It’s nothing so grim as that,” Elizabeth assured him. “Just finish your supper, and we’ll discuss it after.”

“Discuss what after?”

“Your father and I have some news for you, but we’d prefer to discuss it over wine and cake after we’ve finished our meal.”

Kurt tried to hold out and be patient, but the idea that they needed to share something with him was hanging over his head, and he couldn’t ignore the impatient, anxious feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to eat. He wanted to know what was going on. The sooner the better. “Please?” he begged after just a few bites of food. “Please just tell me what you need to talk about? The wait is making me sick to my stomach.”

“Have some pity on the boy, Beth,” Burt told his wife, looking at her with frightened yet resigned eyes.

The Queen sighed, patting at her lips with her napkin before setting it aside and folding her hands neatly in her lap. She looked at her husband and raised an eyebrow. “Shall I tell him, or would you like to?”

“I’ll do it,” Burt replied, though it looked more like that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. “Son,” he said, pushing away his own plate and fixing his gaze on Kurt, “you know that I had a peace and protection meeting with the King from Zira today, don’t you?”

“I do,” Kurt confirmed, cocking his head slightly to one side. What in the world could that have to do with me? he wondered to himself.

“Well, the King of Zira has fallen ill, so he sent his son in his place,” Burt went on. “And, as we discussed a treaty and what we would both require from one another, it became clear that Zira was looking for a more permanent arrangement from us.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that, when the Prince asked for a token of devotion from us to ensure our loyalty and I refused, he asked for something permanent that would require us to never need another peace and protection meeting.”

“So…?” Kurt asked, still unsure what his father was trying to say.

“Burt, just tell him. It’s not going to help to stall.”

Kurt nodded, looking expectantly at his father.

Burt grimaced. Everything was about to blow up in his face. “So,” he said with a sigh, “I agreed to the arrangement of your marriage to the Princess Anderson.”

“You did what?” Kurt was out of his seat in a second. He immediately began to pace the room, his hands balled into fists as he tried to understand exactly what his father had done. “How? How could you do something like this?” he finally got out, the rage he was feeling inside himself turning his face a shade of bright red.

“Son, it had to be done,” Burt said, hating that the words even had to leave his lips. “We needed Zira’s protection, and they were after something specific. I’m sure King Hicket is worried about what will become of his daughter should he succumb to whatever illness has overtaken him, and he’s right to think you’d be the perfect match.”

“No! No, he’s wrong!” Kurt declared loudly, stopping his pacing to turn a heated gaze on his father. “He’s dead wrong! I will make a horrible husband for some stupid Princess. I don’t want to get married. I-I’m not even ready.”

“Kurt--” Elizabeth tried, but her son was still going, ignoring her attempt at getting his attention. 

“On top of all that,” Kurt went on, his volume growing louder and louder, “I told you I only wanted to marry for love or not at all. I told you that when I was a mere child! How could you betray me?”

“Kurt!” Elizabeth tried again, but it was no use.

“No! I-I won’t do it,” Kurt declared, looking his father right in the eye. “I won’t do it! We don’t need Zira’s protection. We don’t need their crops or their Princesses or anything! I won’t do it!”

“We do, Kurt. We do need their protection.” Burt knew that reasoning with his son was not likely to give him the outcome he was looking for, but he had to try.

Kurt shook his head vehemently. “No. No. I won’t do it. I won’t--”

“Silence!” Burt thundered, his voice echoing through the massive room.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Kurt looked at his father, his eyes wide.

“Sit down,” Burt instructed, his voice dark and promising trouble if his son chose not to obey. He did, however, and the King allowed silence to reign for a moment, a stark contrast to the loud, chaotic shouting that had so recently been a staple in the room. 

When Kurt was still, his breathing a little less erratic, and his forehead pressed against his hands, his eyes closed, Burt spoke once again. “I’m sorry, Kurt. I knew your thoughts on arranged marriages. I knew you had a dream of finding your own Princess, falling in love, and settling down with her on your own time. I didn’t want to take that away from you, but like it or not, we do need Zira’s peace and protection. We need someone to have our backs. And, this was the best way to do that. So, like it or not, you will be marrying the Princess Anderson next Thursday. The wedding will be here in the castle.”

Kurt was silent for a while, not saying anything at all. There was so much he wanted to say, so many tears he wanted to cry and protests he wanted to raise, but he couldn’t. There was one thought running through his head on repeat, however. Please don’t hate me, Father, but I’m gay. I don’t want a Princess. He didn’t say that, however. Instead, he asked one question, just to be sure. “There’s really no way out of this?”

“No, son,” Burt said softly, his heart breaking at the defeated, broken sound of his son’s voice.

Instead of responding, the Prince asked, “May I be excused? I-I’d really like to be alone.”

“You may,” Elizabeth said softly, watching with pain in her gaze as her son got up and strode away. She could tell he was fighting to keep himself together, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap him up tightly in her arms and rock him until he knew everything would be okay. But she couldn’t. He was a grown man, and he had to come to terms with this on his own.

***

“I know I haven’t exactly been silent about my displeasure for the arrangement,” Kurt said to Sam, “but you have to know things from my angle. Sadly, I don’t know that anyone will ever understand.”

“I’m trying, Kurt,” Sam told his friend gently. “Really I am. I’m not gay, but I’m sure the idea of being with a woman when you don’t find them attractive could be a problem.” 

Kurt snorted at that. “I think that’s an understatement.”

“So, why don’t you just tell your parents? They’re good people. They’ll understand.”

“No. They won’t. This is not something they are asking of me just because they want me to find a wife. This is a Kingdom matter, and my father’s not about to back out on a contract. I’m stuck. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Maybe that’s not entirely true…” Sam said as he caught sight of a bird fluttering from one tree to the next.

“What do you mean?” Kurt asked him, looking at him curiously. 

“Well, maybe life in the castle isn’t the only thing you could do. Maybe, um, maybe there’s a way that you could leave it behind. Give up your crown, you know?”

“Spit it out. What do you mean?”

“Well, Kurt, it’s just that my mother used to tell us stories. She used to tell us about Princes and Princesses that ran away, joined a gang, lived in the woods. She always said they used to run to solve their problems. The moral of the story usually was that you shou--”

“Wait. What?” Kurt asked, slightly bewildered. “Run away? I don’t think I could do that…”

Sam shrugged. “It was just a suggestion.” When Kurt made no move to respond, he asked, “Well, should we get you up and around for the day? I’ve instructed the kitchen to have hot tea and fruit waiting for you. I thought your stomach might be in knots this morning, so you’d want something light.”

“Good thinking,” Kurt answered, not really listening. In fact, he really didn’t pay much attention to Sam at all as he got out of bed and had his breakfast. He couldn’t get the idea of running away out of his head. And, the more he thought about it, the more appealing the whole idea became until he was completely wrapped up in it, imagining what it would be like to leave his responsibilities behind. What kind of life could he lead away from the castle, his father’s expectations, and his forced marriage to someone he could never love?

He loved his parents. He really did. They had always been kind to him, allowing him to pursue things he was interested in alongside his duties as the Prince and eventual heir to his father’s throne. But despite their kindness, he always lived in a shadow, a shadow of expectations and his father’s legacy, his own legacy, and the duties he had as a Prince, would have as King. He always felt like a man with no freedom, trapped by expectations and by his name. Could running away change all of that?

“Sam?” Kurt finally said when the servant was lining up his wedding clothes, double-checking to be sure they’d received everything they needed from the tailor.

“Kurt?” the servant boy returned.

“Why did you tell me about that, about your mother’s stories involving runaway Princes?”

“To let you know there are options,” Sam replied calmly. “If you know you could never truly be happy married to a Princess and there’s no way for you to tell the King and Queen, you have a choice.”

“Do you think I could do it?”

“Run away?”

“Yes. Do you think I could leave all of this behind and find myself as well as my soulmate?”

“If you put your mind to it, you can do anything,” Sam replied, getting a funny feeling in his chest. “Are-are you really thinking about it?”

Kurt swallowed hard, a plan forming in his mind. He turned to look at his best friend of 18 years, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “I need to tell you thank you, Sam. You’ve been there for me both as a faithful friend and a faithful servant from the beginning, and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to grow up with. Thank you for all the wonderful years you’ve given to me.”

There were tears in Sam’s eyes as well as he asked, “Kurt, are you sure? I mean, you-you’re doing this, aren’t you? Leaving?”

Shaking his head, Kurt said, “It’s better if you have no idea what’s happening. I don’t want my father holding you accountable.”

“But, Kurt, I--”

“Sam,” Kurt said confidently, his voice wet with emotion and tears that were betraying his true feelings, “I’m feeling parched. I need you to go to the well and draw me a bucket of water from deep within. Only the freshest water will do, so make sure it’s as cold as you can get it. Don’t come back until you’ve drawn at least three buckets to check the temperature. Then, run to the smithy and get his finest drinking ladle. I want only the finest of things to get me ready for my wedding.”

His voice breaking, Sam replied, “Yes, your highness.”

Rising to follow him, Kurt pulled the other boy into a tight hug, whispering, “Thank you,” once again before letting him go and watching him walk out the door. Once he was sure he was gone, Kurt rushed to the small writing desk in the corner of his room. Dipping his quill hurriedly into the inkwell, he scratched out a note to his parents:

Dearest Father and Mother,

I know you must be worried sick, but don’t be concerned about me. I’m fine. I’ve made the decision to leave my life behind. I know you were only doing what was best for the Kingdom of Cicuria, but that’s the problem. I’ve lived my life so far in service to my Kingdom and my King. Now, I want to live my life in service to myself, trying to find who I am and the person I may love. I know you’ll be disappointed, but please try not to cry or be upset. I promise I’ll be fine. Maybe someday, once I’ve found myself, we can reunite. Until then, know that I love you both.

Prince Kurt

Then, he scribbled another short note.

Sam,

Thank you. 

Love always,

K

Then, he was out the door of his chambers and down the corridor, going as quickly as he dared to not be outright recognized but also to avoid suspicion. He made it to the servant’s corridors and made a beeline for the staircase, descending quickly. He was grateful that his great grandfather had had the foresight to have the tunnels built beneath the castle for easy access for the servants. They could get from place to place quickly, and the tunnels could be used to sneak the royal family around undetected should a hostile party invade the castle at some point. 

Being friends with Sam had had its advantages, and Kurt knew these tunnels like the back of his hand. He knew without even thinking twice which one would take him to the stable, and he made good time getting out of the dark caves and into the stable, going straight for his horse, Lady Mystique. He rubbed her snout, shushing her loud snickering that he’d come to visit her once more. “Hush, girl,” he whispered to her, loving her velvety muzzle pushing against his cheek softly. “We’re going to do something new today.”

“Your highness?” one of the stable boys asked, peering at him from across the stable. “I-I’m sorry. Should I have had Lady ready to go for you? I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Don’t worry, boy,” Kurt reassured him. “I’ve decided to ride rather suddenly today. I won’t be requiring tack. I’ll take her with just her blanket.” He rubbed her nose lightly again before saying, “I expect that my presence here in the stable will be kept secret. I don’t wish for anyone to know that I’ve gone for a ride.”

“Indeed, your highness. Whatever you wish.” 

“Good,” Kurt complimented him. He expertly moved into Lady’s stall, mounted her, and spurred her out the open stall door and out of the stable entirely, urging her onto the oft-forgotten trail that led directly into the heart of the woods nearby. 

It was both refreshing and terrifying to feel the warm spring air on his face, the slightly cool breeze on his skin as he rode Lady Mystique away from the only home, the only existence he’d ever known. He didn’t know where he was going or what he might find along the way, but he felt confident and oddly satisfied with his choice. For the first time in his life, he had made a choice that benefited no one but him, and it felt great.

After riding along for a few hours, Kurt stopped beside a stream to let Lady Mystique take a break and get some water. He sat on the creek bank and watched the clear water go twisting past, lurching over rocks and bubbling with the occasional tiny fish that swam past. He glanced up at the sun shining through the trees, trying to gauge the time. It was after noon. His parents would have already eaten without him, possibly assuming he was too full of nerves to eat much before the wedding. Would they have discovered he was gone yet? Would Sam have played it off as he’d hoped he would, acting shocked and surprised that he was gone?

Climbing back onto his horse, Kurt rode for another few hours until it began to grow dim. It was hard to see much around him, and his stomach was grumbling loudly. He needed to find some food, but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to begin to look. Just as he was starting to question his decision to set out on his own without even a loaf of bread from the castle’s kitchen, he spotted a campfire in a small clearing a few hundred feet off. Whoever was there could perhaps give him a place to stay and some food for the night.

Carefully, Kurt guided his horse toward the fire, dismounting when he was close enough to see who was sitting around. There were five boys all clustered around the fire and one girl. They all looked to be around Kurt’s age, give or take a few years, and they all looked relaxed. All except for one curly-headed boy dressed in tight, black, silk breeches and a ruffled white shirt. 

Not watching where he was going, Kurt accidentally stepped on a twig, and the loud crack the offending stick gave off had all the eyes around the fire on him in a flash.

“Who goes there?” the girl snarled, her hand instinctively going for the small knife at her waist.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Kurt pleaded, stepping just a bit closer, hoping they’d be able to see his face a bit better. “My name is Kurt. I’m just looking for some food and a place to rest my head for the night.”

“What are you doing in the woods alone at night? Dressed like that?” one of the boys asked, looking him up and down, taking in his deep blue shirt and tan breeches. “Are you lost?”

“No. Just setting out on my own,” Kurt told them honestly. “I haven’t found a place to belong yet. Who are all of you?”

“I’m Sebastian,” the boy said. “That tiger is Santana,” he pointed to the girl. “Then, we have Jeff, Nick, and Elliot,” he said, gesturing to the three boys that Kurt could barely see as their backs were toward him. “Then, we have our prisoner, Blaine. We’re not sure what we’re going to do with him yet.”

“What do you do out here?” Kurt asked, curious. Maybe I can join up with them to learn how to live off the land, he thought to himself. I can strike off on my own again once I know what I’m doing.

“Whatever we want,” Sebastian told him with a smile. “We do what we please, and everyone leaves us alone.”

That sounds perfect! “I want to join you,” Kurt told him. “I don’t know much about living off the land, but I want to join you, help you in whatever conquests we come across.”

“You look like a pretty palace boy,” one of the other boys, Elliot, told him, looking at the newcomer over his shoulder. “Why should we let you join us?”

“Because regardless of my background, whether I was raised in a palace or not, I’ve struck out on my own to discover who I am and…” Kurt squared his shoulders, making another decision on the spot. “And, find my true love.”

“True love?” Santana scoffed. “How do you know that exists?”

“I believe,” Kurt answered with a shrug. “Look, I may not know much now, but I’m a quick learner. I’ll pick it up, do whatever jobs you ask me to do. Just, please let me join you? I’m starving.” As if to prove his point, his stomach growled loudly.

“Fine,” Sebastian said. “I’m kinda the ring leader around here, so you can stay with us for now. Maybe you’ll help us figure out what to do with our prisoner over there.”

“For a prisoner, he doesn’t look like he’s very well kept,” Kurt commented, settling Lady Mystique over with the other horses at the edge of the camp and making his way to sit in the only open space around the fire: between Jeff and the prisoner, Blaine.

“Nowhere for him to go except into the woods. And the woods have bears,” Nick answered honestly. “We don’t figure he’s leaving.”

“Probably not,” Kurt agreed, doing his best to hide the surprise and fear that he felt at hearing he could be surrounded by bears at that exact moment. The rest of the group got him a plate of grilled fish and grits they’d cooked for their dinner, and while it was far from the best food he’d had, it tasted heavenly to Kurt’s nearly empty stomach. 

The small group of them did not sit around and talk for too long before they decided they needed to get some shuteye. 

“We’ll get acquainted tomorrow,” Sebastian said as they were all finding a comfortable place to sleep. “We’ll figure out what job you can do and what we’re going to do with Blaine there. Who knows? Maybe you can convince us he should join our little group, too.” He smiled at Kurt then cast a sideways glance in Blaine’s direction, giving him a little, sideways smirk.

“Maybe,” Kurt agreed, bunking down. It took him a while to fall asleep, and the ground was far from comfortable, even with the blanket he’d swiped from Lady Mystique’s back beneath him. For a while, he just lay silently, staring into the night, watching the stars twinkle at him between the branches of the trees. I wonder if I made the right choice, he thought to himself. I wonder if, someday, I’ll regret coming out here and not marrying the Princess. I can’t imagine a world where that could be true, but I suppose we’ll see. Eventually, he did drift off to sleep, and in his dreams, for reasons unbeknownst to him, he kept seeing the face of the prisoner boy, Blaine. 

On a blanket nearby, all Sebastian could do was grin, falling asleep with a delighted smile on his face.