On their first morning in S'aufa, much to Blaine's surprise and delight, Kurt showed him another feature of the little plant-mound inn where they were staying. Each of the mounds had a path behind it, all of the paths leading into different areas of a thickly wooded grove.

Their path brought them to the most delightful thing Blaine had ever seen. It seemed too impeccably constructed to have simply occurred in nature, but too natural and perfect to have been crafted by human hands.

It was a small pond in a little clearing, the growth surrounding the clearing especially dense, creating a sense of complete privacy. The far side of the pond was fed by a lightly trickling waterfall, cascading down gently sloping rocks. The source that fed the waterfall was too high to see, and the rocky slope was dotted with shrubs and flowers. Including large red flowers with tight, closed petals that spiraled to a point.

Blaine laughed when he saw them.

"God, there's no pretense at all, is there?"

Kurt laughed. "Absolutely none."

The pond itself was crystal-clear and, when Blaine dipped a hand into it, he found it to be a very pleasant temperature.

The only feature that looked out of place in the clearing was what appeared to be an oiled wooden wardrobe nestled between two trees. Inside of the wardrobe they found everything they could desire for bathing, as well as clean, soft robes.

They each undressed and chose some things from the wardrobe, and then walked over to the pond and slipped in. The water reached Kurt's stomach and Blaine's midriff. The bottom of the pond was carpeted with soft sand.

The sands that carpet the world.

Blaine forced away the flush of sadness that came over him. Now was not the time to give himself over to pining. Not when they were in a beautiful place like this. Not when Kurt was looking at him like that.

"Blaine," Kurt said softly, "I think you need a shave."

The tone Kurt used was so tender, his eyes so soft with longing, that Blaine couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm serious," Kurt continued. He was holding a small wooden bowl with some cream-colored powder at the bottom. He dipped the bowl into the water slightly, and then stirred the mixture with a brush he had set on the bank, forming a rich lather.

"Hold still," Kurt murmured, still looking at him with those make love to me eyes, and began applying the lather to Blaine's face and throat. He gently lifted a straight razor from the bank, and unfolded it.

"May I?" Kurt asked. Blaine smiled and nodded.

Kurt shaved Blaine slowly and carefully with steady hands. His eyes were intensely focused, but there was something so, so soft in them too. Blaine was struck by the strange intimacy of the action; it was such a personal thing to do, and his throat was so tender and exposed, and he just trusted Kurt completely.

When he had finished, Kurt ran his hands over Blaine's smooth face, and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

"Much nicer," he sighed. "I was starting to get scratch marks on my thighs."

Blaine blushed slightly. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'd offer to return the favor, but you never seem to need it."

Kurt rubbed his own chin and sighed. "No, Sidhe men rarely grow beards, especially not at my age. I do find them...intriguing, but I think I prefer you with a smooth face." Kurt ran the back of his hand across Blaine's cheek, gazing at him fondly. "I like being able to see every last bit of it."

Blaine caught the hand in his own and kissed Kurt on the palm.

"I like being able to see every last bit of you," he returned. "Have I told you how unbelievably gorgeous you are?"

Kurt flushed a radiant rose pink across his pale skin. "Yes, Blaine. But that doesn't mean you need to stop."

Blaine pulled Kurt tight against him and kissed him hard. When he pulled back, he proceeded to cover Kurt's neck, shoulders and chest in kisses, pausing between them to breathe "gorgeous," and "beautiful," and "immaculate," and "perfect." Kurt allowed Blaine to walk him backward until he was against the moss-covered rocks, the trickling waterfall cascading gently down Blaine's back.

The water was shallower here, reaching Blaine's thighs, the spray from the waterfall misting over them. Kurt pulled Blaine to him, kissing him roughly, and Blaine pressed him into the rocks, the damp softness of the moss sliding comfortably behind him as they rocked together.

They felt something different building between them; the softness was being replaced by a rawness and an urgency, as if anything too tentative or gentle might make them disintegrate.

They grabbed at one another desperately, and Kurt found himself sliding his mouth to the spot where Blaine's neck and shoulder met, and biting down. Blaine gave a rough cry, grabbing Kurt behind one knee and lifting his leg, grinding into him hard.

Kurt's hand flew back and groped blindly behind him, coming back with two large red flowers. Not even bothering to unfurl them, he thrust them between Blaine's chest and his own, crushing them, smearing the oil and petals across their bodies, feeling it drip down to their groins and thighs. Kurt rubbed Blaine's oil-slicked nipples with his thumbs, and Blaine jerked against him with a scream.

"Gods, Blaine, I want you inside me," Kurt gasped, and Blaine responded by locating the branch growing out of the rocks from which Kurt had torn the first two flowers, and plucking a third.

As little in the mood for delicacy as Kurt seemed to be, Blaine crushed the flower between his hands, soaking his fingers and palms with tingling sensitivity. Using one hand to rub his length together with Kurt's, he moved the other to Kurt's entrance, stretching as slowly and gently as he possibly could, given the fact that he was literally shaking with need.

Blaine's ministrations were abruptly halted when Kurt pulled both hands away and stared at him hard with dark, hungry eyes. Kurt placed his hands firmly on Blaine's shoulders.

"Catch me," he ordered huskily, using Blaine's shoulders as leverage to jump up and wrap his legs around Blaine's waist.

Blaine caught him around the thighs, pressing Kurt up and back against the rocks and thrusting up into him while letting him drop slightly, burying himself deep inside.

Kurt screamed his pleasure, heels digging into Blaine's ribs, his head thrown back against the moss-covered rocks.

There was almost too much sensation. Every part of them that touched seemed to be dripping with oil from the flowers, sliding against and inside of one another, every nerve ending blazing, and all they wanted was more.

Blaine's brain had completely short-circuited, which is probably why he didn't stop himself from whispering urgently into Kurt's ear,

"Don't forget me. Please don't ever forget me."

"Never," Kurt gasped out. "I could never forget you. Gods, Blaine, harder, please!"

Blaine began thrusting harder, very nearly slamming up into Kurt with the kind of raw passion he'd been almost afraid of, not wanting to hurt him, not wanting to make him feel like this was anything other than an act of love.

But it didn't feel other than an act of love; it simply felt like there was more layered on top of it. Need, and desperation, and the unspoken understanding that now was all that existed, because now could be all that they had.

Blaine squeezed Kurt's trembling thighs, pounding into him and panting out nonsensical attempts at verbal expression, as Kurt let his head roll back, eyes half-closed and utterly unfocused, groaning in pleasure and belting out strings of what somehow struck Blaine as Elfin expletives.

And then Kurt shuddered with intensity and came without a touch from Blaine's hands.

And Blaine felt it, saw it, and then lost himself completely with one last hard, slow thrust, sliding Kurt up the rocks farther than he'd thought strictly possible.

Panting hard, Blaine leaned against Kurt, touching their foreheads together. They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped tightly together, before Blaine pulled out of Kurt and eased him back down to his feet.

Blaine reached a hand to Kurt's stomach, to coat his fingers in a slick mixture of Kurt's ambrosia, flower oil, petals and sweat. To Blaine's surprise, Kurt reached a hand to Blaine's stomach to do the same. They didn't break eye contact as they tasted.

"That was...intense," Blaine finally ventured, after he'd licked his fingers clean.

Kurt nodded, smiling. "I liked it," he said, almost timidly. "Quite a bit, actually."

"It wasn't too...rough for you?" Blaine asked, his gaze darting away from Kurt.

"It was what I wanted, Blaine. Was it what you wanted?"

Blaine looked back up at him. "Yes."

"Good," Kurt said, touching Blaine's cheek.

They moved back into the deeper water so that they could bathe properly, reveling in the delicate luxury of the elf-made soaps and lotions.

And then they fell asleep in the soft grass beneath the afternoon sun, naked and intertwined beneath the open sky, knowing that they were safe.

They stayed in S'aufa for almost two weeks.

Kurt did long to see his feririar again, and he knew that he was needed at home. The possibility of Drayez's men finding them in one of the stretches between border towns and the border itself still loomed. They still weren't sure that Blaine would even be accepted into Khryslee, and where he could go if he wasn't.

But they couldn't help but surrender to what the walled city represented for them.

Sanctuary.

Kurt knew that the safety they felt here was very much temporary and somewhat imperfect, but as long as Blaine stayed close to him it was also quite real. For the first time since fleeing Villalu Proper, they could simply relax.

And, then, of course, there was Blaine.

He had seemed so sad since discovering how ill-suited his own lifespan was to Kurt's. And when Kurt saw this, he realized that some part of Blaine had really believed that Kurt would go and live with him in Khryslee.

And then there was that moment, the day after they had arrived and they were making love – or, to be more accurate, fucking desperately, when Blaine had begged Kurt not to forget him.

It broke his heart.

So Kurt had decided that they deserved this, that Blaine deserved this, to just step outside of time for a bit, to live a handful of days in which all they had to do was bathe and feast and make love and play music and walk hand in hand exploring a beautiful new city. They still had plenty of money, and once they crossed into the Faerie Lands it would cease to have value, so they simply indulged.

There was a particular cafe that Blaine and Kurt both very much enjoyed; there were menus for the human patrons, and the tables were set amongst lush gardens. The Sidhe patrons were given baskets to fill with what leaves, flowers, grasses and fruits they chose from the bounty that grew around them.

Kurt never tired of the honeysuckle, and Blaine tried a new kind of cheese each day.

There was an amphitheater where human and Sidhe musicians would perform, and Kurt and Blaine attended the performances nearly every night. They also played together in their little leaf-mound and in the clearing around their private pond, Kurt on his pipes and Blaine on his lute. Once Kurt even put down his pipes and sang while Blaine played, his voice so lovely and pure and honest that it moved Blaine to tears.

They bought beautiful and useless things at the open-air markets, adorning one another with blushes and shy smiles. Blaine picked out a brooch for Kurt, delicate tendrils of bronze wrapped around blue and green stones that reminded him of Kurt's eyes. Kurt selected a pendant for Blaine, a beautiful gold-green stone on a silver chain that matched his eyes. He slipped it onto his neck and kissed him tenderly, in the middle of the busy marketplace, in front of everyone.

Blaine was in heaven.

He did notice some Sidhe walking with an excessively adoring human or two in tow, but it was hard to think of these humans as the victims of exploitation or coercion. They looked so happy, though perhaps he did have to overlook the slightly glazed looks in their eyes to see it.

Kurt was clearly wary of the other Sidhe. While he did seem to take some pleasure in being around others of his own kind, he clearly preferred to keep his distance from these city Sidhe. He gripped Blaine's hand tightly whenever they were in public, his eyes trained nervously on the crowd around them, fixing those whose gaze lingered on Blaine with a possessive glare.

It wasn't until the end of their stay that Kurt was directly approached by another Sidhe on the subject of Blaine. They were at their favorite cafe, when a male Sidhe broke away from his table of fawning humans to stroll over to them. He was taller than Kurt, and clearly older as well, his blonde hair pulled back into a short braid that was tied off at the nape of his neck. He was attractive, as were all Sidhe (at least as far as Blaine was concerned), but not nearly as beautiful as Kurt. He licked his lips openly as he looked at Blaine and addressed Kurt.

"Charmed," he said to Kurt in a lazy drawl, speaking Valliluan as was standard practice amongst Sidhe in S'aufa.

Kurt forced a tight, insincere smile in return. "Yes, hello. Enjoying your meal?"

"Mmmm, not bad. A bit weary with the company, though. You have a lovely boy. Do you ever rent him out?"

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"No," Kurt said forcefully. "And he's not mine. He's here of his own free will."

The older Sidhe laughed musically. "Shame. He looks delicious. But if you're not using him..."

The Sidhe stepped closer to Blaine, cupping his chin and leaning his face closer to his. He looked into Blaine's eyes.

And suddenly Blaine wondered why he hadn't realized just how beautiful this man really was. He was at least as beautiful as Kurt. And Blaine could just sense his kindness, his goodness as well. Blaine felt his heart swell with emotion.

Was it possible to be in love with two people at the same time?

No. He loved Kurt. He wanted Kurt.

But Kurt didn't love him. And Kurt probably wasn't going to stay with him. This Sidhe on the other hand, he lived in S'aufa, and Blaine very much liked S'aufa. Blaine could stay with him in S'aufa and he would never leave Blaine, because he hadn't left the other humans that were with him at the cafe, and they all looked so happy...

Blaine was jarred halfway out of his reverie by the sound of angry voices in Elfin tongue. Kurt and the new Sidhe were standing and facing one another, and they were alternately gesturing to Blaine and seeming about to come to blows. Kurt's eyes were blazing with blue fire, and the new Sidhe's eyes were blazing gold. The man turned to Blaine, began to advance toward him once again, and Blaine smiled fondly.

Kurt grabbed the other Sidhe's arm and yanked him roughly away from Blaine. His grip seemed to pulse with blue, and his eyes flashed like lightning.

The stranger's eyes widened.

With fear.

"Y-you-" he stuttered in Villaluan.

Kurt responded harshly in their native language, seeming desperate not to communicate so that Blaine could understand them.

"What...what are you doing here? With a human?" The other Sidhe sounded shocked.

Kurt admonished the man in the Elfin tongue again, releasing his arm.

"I...I didn't know," the older Sidhe said weakly. He stumbled backward a bit, then looked at Blaine briefly and Blaine felt his stomach drop, the haze of pseudo-love dissolving instantly.

What the hell had just happened?

The Sidhe hastily made his way back to his own table, his eyes darting back to them furtively from time to time.

"Kurt..."

Kurt looked at him nervously, but said nothing.

"What was that?" Blaine finally asked.

"He compelled you. He thought I was weaker than him, and he figured he could just take you."

"But...you're not weaker than him."

"No."

"Kurt...what did he mean, when he asked what you were doing here with a human?"

Kurt sighed and looked down at the table. "Sidhe with my...particular range of power don't usually consort with humans, that's all."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

Kurt looked back at Blaine with surprise. It was the first time he had heard that edge of irritation in Blaine's voice.

"It's...just Sidhe politics, Blaine. I wouldn't even know where to start."

Blaine threw his hands up in frustration. "Kurt, we've been traveling together for weeks. Nearly months, at this point. I don't care how complicated it is, just tell me. I tell you everything. You ask me a question and I answer it, Kurt. But you...all you give me are these little half-answers and cryptic implications and I just..."

Blaine looked squarely at him.

"You're not coming to Khryslee with me, are you? There's not even the smallest chance, is there?"

Kurt sighed. "No."

Blaine stood up. "Then I guess it doesn't matter. None of it matters."

Kurt looked up at him helplessly, on the verge of tears.

"Blaine, I never said-"

"I know. You never promised me anything. I suppose I had just hoped that this...between us...that it meant something. To you."

"It does," Kurt whispered.

"What?" Blaine asked. "What does it mean? What do I mean to you, Kurt?"

Kurt looked back down at the table in silence.

He heard a jingle as Blaine threw a few coins onto the table.

"I'll see you back at the inn," Blaine said, his voice hollow.

And then he was gone.

Kurt wept.