“Father, please don’t do this!” Blaine begged, voice breaking with emotion.


Prince Blaine was curious. He had always been that way. From the moment he was born, the castle knew that Blaine would grow to be a very precocious child. His early schooling years had done nothing to disprove this theory.


He had always learned at an unusually fast rate, able to read only shortly after he learned to walk, and school came no differently to him. He was a prodigy in many different ways, surpassing his older brother in several areas of study. He had taken to independently studying each of his subjects, spending countless hours in the library each day. Because of this, his daily lessons began to feel tedious.


He tried to keep himself entertained in class as he was fed information that he had already read in countless books (namely by correcting his teacher’s grammar mistakes and fixing minute errors in his history lessons). Still, he found that his time could be better spent skipping class to go to the stables.


It was there that Blaine discovered his sexuality for the first time. Once a week he would opt out of a class so he could sit cross-legged on the haystack in the corner of the barn as he watched the stable boy tend to the horses. He admired the way the servant's muscles bulged, straining against taut skin as he shoveled the contents of the stalls. Blaine couldn't help but take in every detail. The servant would hum as he worked, simple melodies that a young Blaine would demand to know the titles of. He became so familiar with these tunes that it got so he was able to hum along.


He spent countless days like that, humming along as he sat on the haystack, re-reading his favorite fairy tales or ogling the stable boy. One day, the King had found him in that very position. Blaine was dragged up to his room by his ear that day, sent to bed without dinner, and forbidden to set foot in the stables again. The stable boy was sentenced to a week in the stocks and was banished from working on castle grounds. That was when Blaine learned that liking boys was bad.


“Why have you been missing your classes, Blaine?” His father had demanded, towering over his son’s small figure.


“I already know all that stuff, and the stable boy is really pretty, father.” Blaine insisted.


Apparently that had been the wrong answer. The King had locked him in his room for a week, and he had been sentenced to extra lessons, which he wasn’t trusted to leave his room to attend.


“You are never to speak of a boy that way again.”


Blaine's curiosity had not been dimmed, however, and much to the King's chagrin, as Blaine grew older, it still burned with the same intensity it had when he was a kid. It was that same curiosity that had gotten Blaine into the position he was in now, kneeling at the King's feet, begging his father to let him stay in the castle.


"Father, we were just sleeping! Please, you have to believe me!" The young prince pleaded, amber eyes varnished with unshed tears.


"You're lucky I don't have you hanged for this, boy! Your friend won't have the same good fortune.”


But Blaine didn't feel lucky. He felt like he was going to be sick. The home he had always known, the people he had grown up with, all torn away from him in an instant. And for what? For laying in bed with a servant? No. It was common practice for servants to keep the nobles company. He had seen his brother take many wide-eyed servant girls to bed with him before. He was being punished because the servant he had laid with was not like the servants his brother would take to bed. The servant was a boy.


"Please, Coop! You gotta believe me! You gotta tell father to let me stay!" Blaine pleaded, looking to his brother for sympathy. He knew just how much Cooper meant to their father. Maybe he could convince the King to let Blaine stay. But Prince Cooper stood still in the chamber door, his posture statuesque. He looked very much like his father: dark hair, intense eyes, a strong jawline. His usual stoic, princely expression was contorted with what seemed to be a mix of disgust and sympathy. His status as future king was more important to him than anything, even Blaine, and he would do nothing to jeopardize it.


From the day he was born, he had been trained to take his father's place on the throne. It was because of these duties that he had neglected to form a proper bond with his younger brother. He was always “too busy” or had “more important things to tend to” “you wouldn’t understand, Blaine”.


Blaine knew that whatever inner conflict Cooper was having would not be enough to combat his pride. He didn't budge. His eyes were trained just past Blaine, refusing to acknowledge the younger Prince.


"Blaine. Change out of your clothes and leave the castle at once. You are no longer a Prince, and you are no longer my son." His father's booming voice sounded once more. And with that, Blaine knew that the life he had once had was gone forever. He felt his world crashing down around him.


-----------------------------------------------------


Blaine wandered through the dimly lit forest. He had traveled through these woods many times while training for hunts, but he had been on horseback then, accompanied by a team of more experienced men and the castle dogs. This was much different, and he was beginning to wonder which direction he had come from.


His feet were sore, not adorned with the proper shoes for this trek through the forest, and his calves ached horribly. Afraid his legs might give out all together, he slumped against a nearby tree, ready to call it a night, when he heard a noise. No. Noises. Footsteps, rather.


Blaine stood up, alert, drawing back his bow. He pointed an arrow in the direction of the sound, expecting to see a deer or maybe a castle horse pass through the clearing. He had gathered a few rabbits along his journey, but a deer would last him much longer, and the possibility of it excited his empty stomach. But as the figure drew closer, Blaine realized that it wasn't a deer, it was a boy.


The boy was taller than Blaine but terribly gaunt, the hollows of his cheeks prominent in the moonlight. They were dressed in similar clothes, though the peasant boy's were ill-fitting and a great deal dirtier, evidence of hard work staining every inch of fabric. A collection of small tatters littered the boy's tunic as well, probably from fighting through all the brush, Blaine thought. His tunic had been dyed red, and Blaine admired the handiwork of it. Despite having lived in the castle all of his life, he knew that dyes were hard to come by, and most peasants didn't bother with them at all.


Regardless of the peasant’s current state, he was actually quite stunning, brilliant cerulean blue eyes peering out behind a few loose strands of chestnut hair. His skin was fair, at least in the places that weren't covered in grime, and his nose was upturned in a way that reminded Blaine of the elves in the fairy tales he used to read.


He blinked at the other boy for a moment, cautious. Why had he not fallen to his knees when he saw Blaine's face? Did he not recognize him? Was he dangerous? Still, something told him it was okay to lower his bow.


“You know you're not allowed to hunt outside of the common land." Blaine said, correcting his posture to mimic that of his father and brother.


The taller boy raised an eyebrow, and Blaine swore he saw the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.


"I could say the same to you." The stranger said, his voice high and light, but filled with confidence all the same. Blaine didn't know what kind of response he had been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been that.


"I'm from the castle." Blaine said indignantly, straining on his toes to make himself appear taller than the boy.


"In those clothes?"


Blaine looked down at himself for a moment, suddenly feeling very self-conscious as he examined his cloth tunic and the rabbit carcasses that hung from the leather belt around his waist. A wool cloak, much different than the fur-lined one he had in the castle, was draped around his broad shoulders and fell to just below his knees.


"I'm a servant to the prince," Blaine offered, his voice wavering slightly.


"I pity you then," the peasant boy said, as he continued to walk past Blaine with ease. He held himself with an air of confidence that Blaine had only ever seen from his father.


Blaine just blinked at the boy incredulously, his mouth hanging open slightly in vexation, "What do you mean by that?" He asked, struggling to keep up.


"The royals are arrogant, bitter people. Every one of them." The boy replied, scouting the area for any animals.


Blaine tried not to scoff as he watched the curious boy.


"Well, you can hardly blame them. That's how they've always been raised."


The boy seemed to have spotted a rabbit's nest in the distance and began to slowly head toward it.


"Actually, I /can/. It's hard to feel any compassion for them when they have shown none to us."


“Well maybe some of them just don’t have much of a choice,” Blaine offered, running a hand through his unruly curls.


“How can you say that when you launder their dirty underclothes, cook their food, and wash the soles of their feet and don’t get so much as a thank you in return? Or even a meal.” He said, gesturing to Blaine’s presence in the woods.


Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat and tried not to look too indignant, “The youngest Prince is actually quite appreciative, usually. He knows how hard we work.”


“I don’t see him out in these woods catching his own food. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Spoiled brat.”


Blaine frowned deeply and made a move to step forward in protest, but was stopped by a hand on his chest, "Don't move." The other boy whispered, staring off into the woods.


Blaine followed his gaze and saw the rabbit ahead. "But - you'll never get a rabbit with a knife!" He protested.


The other boy didn’t listen, pulling the knife from his belt and drawing it back like a spear.


“Are you actually going to try to throw that at him? No wonder you haven’t caught any rabbits!” Blaine said just a little too loudly.


The rabbit scurried away at the sound of Blaine's voice, kicking up leaves as it went.


The peasant boy grunted, "Thanks a lot for that. My dinner just ran away." The taller boy said angrily as he marched away from the Prince.


Blaine worried his lip between his teeth for some time, watching as the trees began to obscure the boy's figure from view.


"Wait!" Blaine called, the word spilling from his mouth before he could even think to stop himself.


The thin boy looked over his shoulder and wore the same, annoyed expression as before. Blaine was beginning to wonder if it was stuck like that.


"What now?" The pale boy called back.


"You can't stay in the forest." Blaine said, running clumsily toward the boy, undoubtedly scaring off any animal for miles.


"I'll leave as soon as I catch a rabbit. And unless you want me to skin you instead, I suggest you take your own advice. I’m starving." He said, clutching the hunting knife in his belt tightly.


Blaine knew the boy was telling the truth. His cheekbones were over-pronounced, and despite the bagginess of his clothing, Blaine could see just how petite the frame underneath them really was.


"You’d have to catch me first to skin me, and from what I’ve seen, you’re not too handy with a hunting knife."


The peasant boy raised his eyebrows in offense, mouthing wordlessly at the Prince.


“You need to go,” Blaine insisted.


No response.


"If the castle guards see you, they will kill you! Trust me." Blaine knew this all too well. During his time at the castle he had overheard countless stories of starving peasants who had wandered illegally into the forest being killed on the spot.


Despite his warning, the other boy remained silent, moving to walk away once more. Before he could take a step, Blaine reached forward and grabbed the boy's shoulder, turning him around roughly.


"Let me go!" The taller boy yelled, his fist connecting squarely with Blaine's jaw in a split second.


Blaine tumbled to the ground easily, his eyes wide. He looked something like a hunted animal himself, confused and fearful. He sat for a few seconds in shock before reaching for his belt.


The peasant boy did the same.


Instead of drawing his knife, Blaine pulled all three rabbits from his belt and tossed them at the other boy’s feet.


"I just wanted to give you these. Take them. But please, just - just leave now," he said softly, eyes trained to the ground.


The taller boy was looking at Blaine incredulously, "Thank you.” He said awkwardly. Then a pause. “I'm sorry about your face. It's just that most people I encounter around these parts aren't so friendly."


Blaine nodded in understanding, nursing his bruised jaw in his hand. “You know, you may actually have better luck by just punching the rabbits,” he teased.


As the peasant boy hooked the rabbits to his belt he spoke once more, "We could share one tonight. Just so you don't have to go hungry."


Blaine tried to hide the smile that threatened to spread across his face. He was a very talented hunter and would have no problem catching his own food, but his stomach begged him not to refuse the offer. And yeah, maybe this meal would just be an excuse to spend more time with this curious, beautiful, boy.


"What is your name?" Kurt asked. And oh, Blaine had not been expecting that question.


He remained on the ground, winding his arms around his knees protectively. He couldn't tell the peasant boy his real name, and he certainly couldn't let him know that he was the Prince.


"I'm Devon," he lied, outstretching his hand.

"Kurt."