A week. Blaine decided that he had a week. It was far too long for his comfort, but a single minute was far too long for his comfort too.

He needed a plan. And he needed money. And he needed just the tiniest shred of the Sidhe's trust.

That last part proved to be the most difficult of all.

Blaine easily secured himself the task of looking after the elf, bringing him breakfast and a change of clothes on his first morning there.

The Sidhe looked up at him with tired eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, and Blaine almost stumbled backward at the hatred he saw there.

That first morning the Sidhe refused to speak to him. But Blaine persisted in bringing the elf small comforts like soft blankets and warm water to bathe with, and a pail full of fresh honeysuckle (his Grandmother had always told him that the Sidhe's favorite food was honeysuckle).

The pail of flowers earned him his first ghost of a smile, as well as his first taste of the elf's voice.

"Thank you."

Blaine rolled the words back and forth across his mind, relishing the voice; sweet and soft and higher in pitch than the average human male, it was like balm for Blaine's ears. It was an oasis in the midst of the horrible male voices Blaine spent his life surrounded by, all gruff and harsh and booming and bellowing.

It was the best thing Blaine had ever heard.

On the fourth day, Blaine dared to ask the elf's name.

He looked at Blaine suspiciously.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I...so I know what to call you. I'm Blaine."

The elf looked away. "You wouldn't be able to pronounce it."

"Well, what do humans usually call you?"

"They don't."

"Well...what can I call you?"

When the Sidhe looked back at him, his eyes were throbbing with desperate, angry pain.

"What do you want from me?" He whispered.

Blaine looked nervously around him, making sure that they were alone. He leaned in close, his forehead almost touching the bars of the elf's cell.

"I just want to help you."

The elf stared at him, and Blaine had never felt so utterly naked and vulnerable from a pair of eyes on him before in his life. He forced himself to look back steadily, putting everything he had into that look, doing everything he could to make the Sidhe see.

I'm safe, he willed his eyes to communicate. You can trust me. I won't hurt you. I want to set you free.

The elf looked away again, and Blaine thought he'd lost him, and maybe all this was hopeless, and maybe-

"Kurt."

"Pardon me?"

"My name...you really wouldn't be able to pronounce it. But you could call me Kurt. It's a shortened version, kind of a pet name that members of my feririar used to call me."

"Your fer...?"

"I suppose you could say like my tribe? Flock?" Kurt sighed. "The people I came from."

He sounded so wistful that Blaine almost hated himself for having asked.

"Kurt," said Blaine thoughtfully. "That's lovely. I've never heard anything like it before."

Kurt shrugged. "My full name is prettier."

"What is it? I mean...even if I can't say it, could I hear it? Maybe? If...you want to tell me. You don't have to."

Kurt studied him. He looked entirely unsure of what he should make of Blaine. Blaine offered him a nervous smile.

Kurt almost – but not quite – smiled back, and then spoke his name.

He was right on both counts: There was absolutely no way Blaine would ever be able to pronounce it, or even come marginally close.

Also? It was beautiful.

He could hear Kurt buried in the name, though, and it did seem to make sense that that would be the part to pluck out and use for a nickname.

Blaine smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Kurt."

Kurt's expression darkened.

"Don't do that," he said flatly, turning his back on Blaine.

"Don't do what?"

"Pretend we're friends. Or even friendly. Pretend you see me as more than an animal. Pretend you don't know what your prince does with me every night."

Blaine swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say.

Kurt walked over to the barred window and looked out over the courtyard. Blaine had always found it odd, how the cell had one of the best views in the castle. Perhaps it was less so that Kurt would have a nice view and more so that the entire court could catch a glimpse of the prince's prettiest possession.

"Kurt, I do see you as more than an animal. In fact, I see you as more than human, if most of the humans I've met are anything to go on."

Kurt didn't turn around.

"And...I'm pretty sure Dronyen has never asked you what you wanted to do, which makes me think that he's probably been doing things to you, and not with you. And I know Kurt, I really do, that what he does to you isn't your fault. It doesn't make you any less...perfect."

Kurt slumped a bit against the window sill, but continued to look outside, away from Blaine.

After a few moments more, Blaine walked away, feeling deflated.

He didn't see that there were tears in Kurt's eyes.

The night had come, and Blaine could not sit still. He had spent the entire week treading along a knife's edge of safety, at risk of being caught for one of any number of things at any given time.

First there were all the things he had stolen from the palace. From Dronyen.

Then the fact that he had sold most of them on the black market.

The carriage he had waiting in the forest outside the city walls? The one with all the maps to Faerie country and stolen supplies from the palace guard? There was that too.

And there were the keys he had "borrowed" from the gatekeeper and had copied after plying him with liquor one night.

Not to mention the fact that he had bribed the cook. And the fact that the cook had slipped a sleeping drought into the soup that night.

And now Prince Dronyen and all his men, and Princess Brissa and all her ladies were passed out cold, and Blaine moved quickly through the palace, his heart pounding in his chest.

This had to work. It just had to.

When Blaine reached Kurt's cell, he suddenly forgot himself, his plan, the urgency, the risk, all of it, because he couldn't help but take a moment to just behold.

Kurt had made a nest out of the blankets Blaine had brought him, and was curled up in a pool of moonlight. He was wearing the freshly laundered breeches and tunic that Blaine had supplied, the lacing at his throat loose and falling open. His lips were parted slightly, and he looked so gorgeous that Blaine could barely stand to watch him.

It was the first time Blaine had seen him look anything close to peaceful.

Hating to disturb him but remembering the situation, Blaine spoke hesitantly.

"Kurt."

No response.

Blaine repeated his name a little louder, and a little louder still, and then made a thoroughly embarrassing attempt at Kurt's full name, which he was actually glad Kurt didn't awaken to hear.

He wasn't sure what to do when the elf continued his unbroken slumber. He didn't want to walk into the cell and shake him – after being raped every night for at least a week and God knows how long before that, Blaine certainly wasn't going to risk any type of unrequested touch.

Flinching at the deafening quiet, Blaine rapped his keys against the bars, hard.

Kurt jerked at the resultant sound, sitting up with a start and looking terrified.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered. "It's me."

Kurt gave a small, strangled noise of fear and confusion.

"It's Blaine," he clarified, in what he hoped was a soothing tone of voice. "Look, I know you're probably scared right now, and this is a lot to wake up and take in, but we need to leave right now."

"I...Blaine?"

"Yes."

"Is this a dream?"

"No."

"I don't understand."

"We...we need to go. Now. Escape. Get out of here. So you can be free?"

Kurt just stared at him.

"You want me to go...with you."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I can't stand to see you like this. Because this life is making me into a horrible person. Because...I don't know, I suppose because it would mean I was finally doing something I could be proud of."

Kurt looked unconvinced.

"How?"

Blaine sighed irritably. "Time is somewhat of the essence here, Kurt. I've been planning this all week. I just need you to come with me. Do you trust me?"

"No."

Blaine laughed nervously. Right. Of course. Why the hell would Kurt trust him? That was a ridiculous question to ask.

"Well, do you at least trust me more than Dronyen?"

"I don't know."

Oh. Well, there it was. Blaine had at least hoped that he'd gotten a bit farther along than this by now, but he clearly didn't understand just how little reason the elf had to ever trust a human man.

Blaine fidgeted a bit. Okay. If this was really about freeing Kurt, and not about Blaine running off with some beautiful boy that he had convinced himself he was in love with, Blaine had to prove it. To himself as well as Kurt.

"Look, Kurt. I have a carriage waiting outside the city with maps to the Faerie lands. Dronyen and Brissa and all the palace staff are in a drugged sleep, but I'm not sure how long it will last. If you want to, you can come with me and we can try to get you home. Or, you can stay here. Or, you can let me help you escape, and you can go off on your own and never see me again as soon as we leave the city. Though I hope you'd at least consider staying with me until the verbena is out of your system, because you would definitely be safer that way. But it's up to you. I'm not going to force you to do anything. But I will say this – if we're going to go, we pretty much have to go right this minute, because I have a feeling that once things start to unravel, they're going to unravel fast."

Kurt stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"All right," he finally said. "Let's go."

Reaching the courtyard was easy, crossing the palace walls more difficult. Blaine and Kurt had to crouch in the shadows for some time, studying the movements of the patrolling guards, before they felt brave enough to continue forward. There was a small gate about three hundred yards from the main entrance, used primarily by groundskeepers and the like. It was just big enough for a single person to fit through, and if they timed it right, they could slip through unnoticed.

Blaine pushed what he believed to be the appropriate stolen key into the lock on the little door.

It didn't work.

Panic rising in his chest, Blaine began to fumble through key after key, his eyes darting around wildly in case they should be discovered.

He heard a delicate gasp behind him, and saw Kurt press back into the shadows just as Tepper, one of the night guards, approached.

"Who...Blaine?"

"Um, yes. Hi, Tep. I was just...I couldn't sleep, so I was just going for a walk."

Tepper furrowed his brows, coming closer.

"Why are you using this door?"

"I didn't want to bother anyone with opening the main gate."

"How did you even get a key?"

His Maj gave it to me. Said it would be fine if I used it."

Tepper continued to advance.

"Hey, wait a minute, isn't that His Maj's S-"

It happened so fast, Blaine almost couldn't believe it himself. As soon as Tepper was within range, Blaine threw the keys to Kurt and shot his hand out, hitting him hard in the temple with the heel of his hand.

Tepper crumpled to the ground.

Blaine reached down to grab him under his armpits, turning his head around just as Kurt managed to unlock the door.

"Hurry!" Blaine whispered urgently.

Kurt stood aside to let Blaine drag Tepper through the gate and then followed them, locking the door behind him.

"What are you going to do with him?" Kurt whispered, sounding nervous.

"Gag him and tie him up. I don't want anyone finding him until we're very far away."

"Why don't you just kill him?" The question was delivered without emotion.

Blaine looked at Kurt in surprise. "Tep's not a bad person. He just...he just doesn't know any different, Kurt. It's not like he deserves to die."

Kurt snorted and turned away.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just...interesting how much reverence you people seem to have for human life, that's all."

Blaine let it go because they really didn't have the time. He leaned over and hoisted Tepper over his shoulder. They ran into the forest, as far away from where the carriage was hidden as Blaine could manage without losing too much time.

He sent Kurt to find some strong vines while Blaine ripped the sleeves off his own shirt. He stuffed one into Tepper's mouth and used the other to tie it in place. When Kurt returned with the vines, Blaine tied Tepper securely to a tree, trying to place him in a not-horribly-uncomfortable-looking position.

It may be a day or two until he was found, but he would be found. Because once it became clear that Prince Dronyen's prized possession had been stolen, the palace guard would be combing these woods.

Next Kurt and Blaine went to the place where Blaine had tied up his horse, attached to a cart. Blaine's heart lurched when he untied the animal and gave a firm smack to her hindquarters, urging her away.

"Goodbye, girl," he murmured. He hoped she would be okay. He really couldn't take her with them, as she was too distinctive-looking and not nearly fast enough to meet their needs. She would provide a helpful distraction, however, which Blaine hoped would slow the inevitable search party down.

The horse ran, the wagon making a muddy path in her wake.

"This is the tricky part," Blaine said to Kurt softly. "We can't leave a trail, so try your best to stay off the ground."

They crept along rocks and tree stumps until Blaine stopped at the base of a particular tree and motioned upward to Kurt.

Once high enough in the canopy, it was clear that there was something of a path from tree to tree if they stuck to thick branches. Even verbena-soaked, it was clear that Kurt was better at this than Blaine, as he seemed just about as sure-footed here as he did on land.

Blaine, on the other hand, crept along slowly on his stomach, gripping the branches with his arms and thigh muscles, willing himself not to fall.

They finally dropped down beside the carriage. Blaine motioned with his head for Kurt to climb inside.

Blaine lit the headlamps and prepared the horses. There was a swath of weighted horsehair attached to the back of the carriage to wipe their path clean. They wouldn't be following any trail, but Blaine had already determined a tricky, winding path that would take them to a road far outside the city walls.

When Blaine opened the carriage door, Kurt saw that he was clad only in his underthings. He gasped, a look of dread and dawning comprehension moving across his features.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Oh! No...I...I have to change. This is only going to work if people think that you...that I own you." Blaine flinched at his own words.

"I have to look like I'm rich. I...have some things in here. Could you please pass me that satchel?"

Wordlessly, Kurt did so.

Also wordlessly, Blaine dressed.

"So, Kurt, I'm going to get us as far away from here as possible. These are fast horses and I'm going to ride hard. When we've put enough distance between ourselves and Villalu we can take a break, but until then why don't you go ahead and get some sleep."

Kurt simply nodded, and settled back into the plush velvet seat.

Blaine climbed to the perch at the front of the carriage and grabbed the reins.

This was it.

He was leaving.

And Kurt was coming with him.

Blaine gave the reins a firm pull, and they sped off into the night.