Kurt and Blaine's arrival at the actual border seemed almost anticlimactic after their time at the shrine.

Then again, twenty men running at them with swords would probably seem anticlimactic after their time at the shrine.

They had spent the night at the foot of the statue and had made love a total of five times – although to think of it that way would be to separate the experience out into pieces, compartmentalize it, and that wasn't strictly possible. They hadn't stopped touching each other, hadn't emerged from their pleasure-trance even through their bouts of sleep, the crackle of lust in the air rendering them downright insatiable.

When they finally summoned the strength to leave the shrine, they were incredibly sore and spent and ravenous and desperately thirsty.

Kurt thought it was entirely possible that they had just given The Mother of All the best offering she had ever received in all the thousands of years that such offerings had been made.

And Kurt clung to the memory of it; the depth of Blaine's eyes, the sounds that he made, the feel and scent of him as they fell over the edge together again and again, of the miniature universe that they had created consisting of only their bodies and their pleasure and their souls and their love. The time they had spent in that little universe carried the weight and meaning of years, even though it had only been hours.

Kurt clung to the memory because other memories were crowding in on it, vying for a position at the forefront of his mind. Memories that grew more vivid as the scenery around them grew more horrifically familiar.

They had left the dome early in the afternoon, after taking an altogether necessary nap inside the dome but as far from the shrine itself as possible. And now they were on the specific route that Kurt had taken many, many times in his life, most of them in a state of peace and reflection.

Kurt had chosen The Mother's shrine for his Nuptial Rite because she was so meaningful to him. Few others chose her because the shrine was technically on Villaluan soil. In fact, few made the trek at all anymore, not since humans had begun taking Sidhe slaves.

But Kurt hadn't been afraid. Kurt was too young and powerful to be afraid. And he couldn't imagine any other god guiding him on his Soul-Walk.

But all of that had changed.

His time at the shrine with Blaine was his last visit to The Mother. Kurt could not make this journey again. It was an incredibly painful realization to come to, but Kurt simply couldn't do it to himself. The shrine itself was unmarred – even more exalted, in fact, since making the offering with Blaine, but the path that led between his home and the shrine was forever poisoned.

Kurt felt himself grit his teeth as they emerged from the forest path to ride through a clearing. The very clearing that had lived a long and well-fed existence in his nightmares.

It was such a nondescript place; pleasant enough for a nap but nothing special. It was still rife with that sweet grass that Kurt had always liked so much, a variety that was rare in eastern Faerie country but abundant in Villalu.

Kurt couldn't imagine ever wanting to eat it again.

He gripped Blaine's hand tightly and felt his body tense up, and Blaine didn't need to ask what it was. He simply stroked gentle circles into Kurt's back while Kurt took them through the clearing at a brisk pace. By the time they were back on the wooded path, Kurt had both the reins and Blaine's hand in a white-knuckle grip.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly, flexing his fingers.

"Sorry," Kurt whispered, letting go of Blaine's hand.

"Kurt, we should stop for a bit. Give you a chance to-"

"I'm fine, Blaine."

"Kurt, you're not. Please at least let me drive."

Kurt sighed heavily, but thrust the reins into Blaine's hands. When Kurt finally allowed himself to start crying, Blaine eased them to a stop.

It reminded Blaine so much of that first time Kurt had opened up to him, except this time he didn't need to ask Kurt if he could hug him. This time Kurt simply slipped into Blaine's arms and nestled himself tightly into Blaine's embrace. It had become so natural, that trust and sense of safety that they felt with one another.

Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead lightly when Kurt finally pulled away.

Kurt smiled at him, and allowed Blaine to brush the tears from his cheeks.

"I'm never going back there, Blaine," he said, and the mere words, spoken aloud, seemed to melt something hard and cold and heavy inside of himself. Because it was true. He was never going back.

Kurt laughed and caught Blaine's hands as he lowered them from his face, raising them to his lips to kiss Blaine's knuckles. Their eyes lingered on one another in that new way that had unfolded between them since making love at the shrine, drenched in terrifying intimacy and the knowledge that neither of them would ever find someone else to connect to in this way.

Kurt leaned in to kiss Blaine deeply, and Blaine responded with enthusiasm, but there was no mistaking the fact that it was, oddly enough, a way to avoid the intensity. A way for Kurt to shift slightly away from Blaine, even as he physically leaned closer.

"We have to be careful," Kurt said as he pulled back. "Soon we'll be close enough to the border that there will be no danger from slave-traders; their minds become muddled, iron melts, verbena sours and wilts and loses its potency. But this stretch here-" Kurt swept his hand to indicate the area around them - "you should probably arm yourself, Blaine. There could be trouble."

Sure enough, soon after gathering his weapons, Blaine had to pull the carriage to an abrupt halt, barely missing a veritable wall of iron chains pulled taut between two trees across their path. Before they could so much as catch their breath, Blaine was lunging for Kurt and pulling him down, iron-tipped arrows narrowly avoiding them both.

Crouching on the foot rest in front of the perch, they both searched the area around them nervously.

"Blaine, I have to get down," Kurt whispered. "I need the ground for an anchor."

Blaine nodded. "I'll cover you," he whispered in reply. He grabbed the back of Kurt's head and gave him a quick, hard kiss before Kurt moved to slink to the ground.

The arrows had come from behind but at an angle, as the carriage shielded them from a direct assault to their backs. Kurt had been almost directly in the line of fire.

Out of the corner of his eye, far too close to Kurt for comfort, Blaine saw a quick flash of movement.

"Kurt! There!"

Kurt whipped around and a yelp came from the trees as a branch plunged to the ground and came up again clutching a writhing human man.

Kurt and Blaine both continued to survey the area nervously as Kurt melted the chains between the trees.

Kurt crept back toward the carriage until Blaine was close enough to hear him whisper.

"Blaine, I know there are more of them. There is something I can do without turning this into a bloodbath, but I'll need to close my eyes and gather the power for a moment. I'll be completely unguarded. Can you...?"

"I won't let anything happen to you, Kurt."

Kurt walked over to a large elder tree and placed his palms against the trunk.

Blaine nocked an arrow and moved his eyes around slowly, scanning the trees and path for any sign of movement.

A golden glow began to emanate from Kurt, softening the outlines of his body. Slowly, the tree began to shift in color, a golden shimmer lighting up the bark.

Blaine could almost feel the golden shimmer cascading down to the tree's roots, racing through the earth to alight the roots of all the other trees in this part of the forest.

Blaine forced himself to not simply gaze at Kurt spreading his magic through the trees, and to keep his eyes moving.

He almost missed the man, dressed entirely in green and brown so as to blend into the trees around him, as he crept onto the path and soundlessly advanced on Kurt, an iron throwing star in his hand.

Blaine released his arrow with a steady hand. His aim was true.

He struck the man in the heart.

Before he could even fully register the fact that the man was dead, the forest seemed to come alive with movement. Blaine whipped his head around frantically, anticipating the onslaught of the man's companions.

What he saw instead was utterly breathtaking.

Every tree within his range of vision was sparkling and glowing gold. The trees were moving as if they were flexible bodies, leaning and twisting and seeming to dance in place. bellowing began to emerge from the trees as several revealed men clutched in their branches, just like the first man they had seen.

Kurt walked back to the carriage, smiling but looking a bit shaky.

"We should probably hurry, Blaine. The woods are thick with them, and I need to be strong enough to get you through the border in one piece."

Blaine swallowed hard. He didn't like any part of that statement.

As they continued on their way, Blaine didn't ask what would happen to the men screaming from the branches around them. Would the trees let them go when Kurt was far enough away? Would they simply stay like that? Would anyone come to help the men?

Blaine found that he passionately did not care. These were men that lurked by the border, waiting for Sidhe to enslave. Men like those that had captured Kurt. Men that would no doubt hurt Kurt in the same way if they ever got the chance.

The more he thought about it, the more he found that he did care. And the more he found that he hoped they would all starve to death high among the branches.

"It wasn't like this before," Kurt said softly. "I took this trek many times. They...I think it's gotten worse, Blaine. I think it's getting worse."

Blaine didn't take Kurt's hand because they were riding hard and they had passed the range of golden trees and the danger hadn't subsided and Blaine needed all of his concentration on getting them to safety. On getting Kurt to safety. Instead, he leaned toward Kurt, brushing their shoulders together, and gave him a sympathetic look. Kurt slipped his arm around Blaine's waist.

"Blaine, I should probably take over the reins soon. This is going to be like getting to the shrine, but...it's probably going to be worse for you. But you really can't fall asleep and you can't let go of my hand."

"Why can't I fall asleep?" Blaine was already starting to find the idea of doing so appealing. Kurt eased the reins from his hands. "Why can't you just hold onto me and let me sleep?"

"Because the border guards against human entrance in two ways. You need to be physically connected to me, physically protected, and you need to be mentally present and conscious. The border is...well, it's a gateway between worlds. It is almost a living thing, and it wants to pull you in. You'll want to go where it beckons you, and the closer you are to sleep the harder it will be to resist the pull. And if you don't resist it you could end up...anywhere."

"What do you mean by anywhere?" Blaine asked, forcing his eyes to remain open.

"There are innumerable worlds, Blaine. Some much better than this one and some much, much worse. But if I lost you in the void, I'd..." Kurt inhaled sharply. "I would never find you. And the chances that you would end up somewhere safe are very, very small. So please stay with me through this."

Blaine sighed dreamily, his head dropping against Kurt's chest.

"I'll stay with you forever, Kurt," he murmured.

Kurt fought back the prickle behind his eyes and the jolt of pain in his chest at the sweet, simple and half-wakeful statement. The statement that he knew Blaine meant with purity and intensity. The one beautiful thing that Kurt could not say back.

Kurt shook Blaine awake.

"Blaine. Listen to me. I am going to keep talking to you and you are going to answer me, all right?"

"Mmmm."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand until he yelped.

"God, Kurt, that still kind of hurts from yesterday!"

"Well, good. That means I won't have to exert as much pressure to keep you awake."

"That's horrible. Why are you being so mean?"

"Because I'd rather hurt your hand then send you into a world of seven-foot-tall carnivorous insects and noxious gasses instead of air!"

Blaine sat bolt upright at that.

"That...that isn't real, is it?"

Kurt shrugged. "I've only heard rumors. Very few Sidhe have successfully traversed worlds and returned to tell the tale."

"But...it can be done?"

"It can. It rarely is. It takes powerful magics and years of study."

Blaine looked at Kurt thoughtfully.

"I'll bet you could do it, though."

Kurt flushed slightly and shrugged again. "I could, if I were so inclined. I'm not, though. There are problems enough in this world without having to go out looking for a whole other world's worth."

"Mmmm," Blaine said, his eyelids growing heavier.

"Blaine, have I told you about Faerie country?" Kurt asked, desperate for a conversation topic to keep Blaine awake.

"Um...what? No, not really. I mean you said your fer...uh..."

"Feririar."

"Yeah. You said some people live in plant houses there. Like the ones in S'aufa."

"Yes. And in tree-houses too, like that inn we stayed at in L'auhe. Do you remember that?"

"Mmmm."

"Blaine!" Kurt squeezed his hand hard.

"What! I am! I mean, yes. I remember."

"There are flowers as big as trees, like at the shrine, but there are actual trees there, too. Trees like none you've ever seen before, Blaine."

"Mmmm."

"Blaine, ask me a question."

"Ummm, like what?"

"Like anything. You have to stay awake, remember?"

They were getting close. Very, very close. Kurt tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He slowly spread a pulse of binding energy around himself, Blaine, the carriage and the horses. He wasn't terribly worried about the horses; they were never drawn to the wormholes the way that humans were, but it was an extra measure of security to keep them all together, and it certainly couldn't hurt.

"Blaine! Ask me a question!"

"OW! Okay! Ummm...where did you live in your feririar?"

"I lived in a great hall of flowers."

"A...where did you live?"

"The home-growers that made it wove it together from (the name was Elfin) flowers. They are some of the biggest flowers you will ever see. I lived in a great hall. It was magnificent. I lived there with Firae."

Blaine failed to disguise the gasp that escaped him at that. Kurt winced.

He hated to do it. He hadn't wanted to do it. But they were nearly there and he needed Blaine awake. And he knew that mentioning the name of his former betrothed, and of the fact that they had shared a home, would jar Blaine back to wakefulness.

Blaine didn't even seem to notice how close they had become. He didn't even seem to notice the blue-gray glittering wall that rose up before them, the border that had seemed so far away until they were this close, and suddenly it was enormous. Suddenly it was oppressive. It loomed like a frozen tidal wave, as tall as the heavens.

Blaine didn't seem to notice it because he really didn't. Because every bit of him that wasn't actively fighting sleep was focused on Kurt. On what he had said. On the name Firae.

What the hell kind of name was Firae? Blaine was pretty sure it was the most idiotic name he had ever heard in his entire life.

"I'm going to tell you, you know. I'm going to tell you everything, just as soon as we cross. But you need to stay awake, Blaine."

"I'm awake," Blaine said steadily. He was now grasping Kurt's hand just as hard as Kurt was clutching his.

"Who are you, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

"You know who I am, Blaine."

"No, I mean...at home. In your feririar. Who are you there?"

"I told you, I will tell you as soon-"

"Tell me now."

Kurt looked straight ahead.

"If I tell you now you might let go."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but his words were lost in the sudden impact, the vacuum suction, the writhing tunnels that screamed at them, that sang to him, that seemed so terrifying and yet so intriguing.

He couldn't see Kurt. But he could feel Kurt. He could feel Kurt's hand, and he always wanted Kurt's hand in his, but he also wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so, so badly, and if he simply gave in he would be able to sleep through this, this confusing, blinding, far too fast and far too colorful place that made him want to just crawl into one of those tunnels and close his eyes and never wake up.

But Kurt's hand was squeezing his. And Kurt had told him not to fall asleep.

Kurt had said if I lost you in the void I would never find you.

And he needed Kurt to always be able to find him.

Blaine squeezed back.

And then he was hit with a wall of sunlight.

Blaine was slammed back into his body and time and space so forcefully that it made him dizzy and made his body spasm unpleasantly, and he ripped his hand from Kurt's and hurled himself off the perch and fell onto his hands and knees and vomited onto the ground.

Blaine emptied his stomach and then dry-heaved for quite some time, taking noisy, shuddering breaths, and his skin felt damp and cold. When his breathing began to even out again, he felt a warm hand on his back.

He let Kurt help him to his feet, and wipe him off with a cool, wet cloth. Then Kurt led him to the shade of an enormous tree (or perhaps flower?) and brought him water from a flask and some blossoms to eat. Blaine was suspicious of the blossoms at first, but he relented and found that they filled his mouth with a pleasant taste and settled his stomach considerably.

Blaine sighed deeply.

"That was awful."

Kurt brushed a lock of hair out of Blaine's eyes and sighed, sitting down beside him. "Yes. I'm sorry. I knew it would be bad, but I've never brought a human through before. I didn't realize it would be that bad."

Blaine dropped his head onto Kurt's shoulder.

"Well." he said softly, "we did it. We're here."

"We are," Kurt agreed.

"Kurt," Blaine looked up at him with a broad smile. "You're safe."

Kurt couldn't help but smile back.

"Let's find a place to set up camp," Blaine said. "And then we can make some tea, and we can talk."

Kurt's smile faded, but he nodded resolutely. "Yes," he agreed. "That sounds like a good plan."

Faerie country was beautiful.

Blaine was reminded strongly of the shrine, but everything was...more so. There were also some things that he recognized from Villalu. There were elder trees and willow trees, and Blaine saw some very normal-looking toads and rabbits.

He also saw some creatures he had never even dreamt of.

He saw a small, fluffy creature that looked a bit like a cross between a cat and a hedgehog. Its coat shimmered and shifted in color, matching that of the plant life around it. It flushed green as it ran through green grasses, then shifted to pink when it wandered into a patch of pink flowers.

He saw something that looked almost exactly like a large, silver fish swimming through the air. It moved by them at an incredible speed.

And he saw a lizard with wings like a bird. Its skin was vivid green and its wings were brilliant orange and gold and it seemed to be pursuing a pixie. Blaine gasped and clutched Kurt's arm.

"Kurt, that lizard is going to eat that pixie!"

Kurt looked. "Yes, it very well may," he agreed.

Blaine looked aghast.

"Blaine, they keep the pixie population under control. Trust me, you do not want to see the results when they overbreed."

Blaine averted his eyes from the chase.

"They just...they look so human."

"I know," Kurt said gently. "But...well, all animals have that spark and individuality, Blaine. You just saw it more clearly in the pixies because they are shaped something like you and I."

Blaine swallowed. It was going to take some time to get used to life in Faerie country.

Many of the flower-trees were even larger here than in the dome; without a roof to contain them, some seemed as tall as mountains. The landscape spread before them in a patchwork of color that was so vivid and beautiful it made Blaine's eyes water. The world was full of grass and flowers, and everything smelled sweet and pure.

Kurt was mostly quiet as he drove, though he did gaze over at Blaine from time to time, smiling at the excitement, confusion, awe and reverence that played across his face.

They finally found a spot that Kurt deemed suitable to make camp, and Kurt made a fire and set the kettle on to boil.

Kurt sighed nervously. It was still quite light out and they were far too close to his feririar for his comfort. All he wanted was to get Blaine to Khryslee without any trouble.

"All right, Kurt," Blaine said when he had a cup of tea between his hands. "I believe it's time for you to tell me some things."

Kurt sipped his own tea delicately, and then sighed. "Yes. Thank you for giving me this long. So. I suppose...do you have any specific questions to start out with, or shall I just-"

"Are you royalty, Kurt?" Blaine blurted out. "Is that it?"

Kurt smiled slightly and looked down at his cup. "No. Well, not exactly."

Blaine looked at him with confusion.

"Blaine, Sidhe society is a caste system. The castes are not determined by bloodlines, though there can be a genetic component to the powers that manifest. The royal family, however, that is determined by bloodline. Or marriage line. In order to add some diversity to the ruling class, they are allowed to marry others of certain castes."

"Like...yours?" Blaine asked, his throat going dry.

Kurt nodded. "Like mine. My caste is-" he spoke the word. "I suppose the best translation into Villaluan might be...Spiral caste."

"Spiral?"

"Yes, well, the name in Elfin essentially means spiral. The spiral is a sacred shape. It contains all, expands and contracts, grows and shrinks, but it is fluid and fixed and unbroken at the same time. Spiral caste Sidhe are...well, we're extremely rare. Very extremely rare."

"And...what does it mean?"

"It means I have a full range of power."

"Full?" Blaine raised an eyebrow in question.

"Full. It means...well, it means that any power that it is possible for a Sidhe to have, I have it. Every manifestation of it. And the strongest possible manifestation, too. The strength of one just feeds the others, moving like a spiral, so that I can focus my energy on the most minute, precise task or the most large-scale and complex maneuver. And sometimes...sometimes it can be so much that it's hard to control."

"Okay," Blaine said steadily. "Well, that isn't really a surprise. I kind of figured your power was on a different scale from most other Sidhe. But I don't understand why that means you can't stay with me."

"Well," Kurt said nervously, "there is this law called the non-interference doctrine."

"Yeah, I know about it. Tash told me."

"Oh. Well. That law is the reason the Sidhe haven't done anything about the slavery in Villalu. It's the only reason we aren't trying to work with the Villaluan government instead of just ignoring human society and putting up walls and casting our criminals amongst them and treating it like some sort of great kindness on our part. And, at present, there is really only one person with the power to-"

Kurt stopped in mid-sentence, looking up in alarm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

Kurt was going pale, paler than Blaine had ever thought possible.

"Blaine, we have to-"

Kurt looked around wildly, and then grabbed Blaine's hand, both their cups of tea falling to the ground as he ran toward a grove of trees, pulling Blaine behind him.

"Blaine, we have to hide. We can't let them-"

But it was too late.

Seemingly out of nowhere, they were absolutely swarmed.

Enormous dragonfly-like creatures like the one Blaine had seen in S'aufa were flying at them from every direction.

Grimchins. That was what Kurt had said their Villaluan name was. They were grimchins.

But why did that matter? Why was he focusing on something as inane as what to call them?

Perhaps it was because astride each grimchin was a Sidhe.

Some had swords at their hips and others carried bows and quivers full of arrows. They were dressed in glossy green skirtlike garments, their feet and chests bare.

They were clearly warriors. And yet there were women amongst them. In fact, there seemed to be more women than men. They were bare-breasted and bright-eyed, looking every bit as fierce as their male counterparts.

Blaine stared at them in open amazement. Kurt had stopped trying to run. Instead he simply stood in front of Blaine protectively, reaching behind him to grasp Blaine's hands in his.

"Don't move a single step away from me," Kurt whispered urgently. "I'm going to keep you safe."

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hands, pressing himself tightly against Kurt's back.

As the first of the Sidhe began to land and dismount, Blaine heard Kurt call something out to them in Elfin. A woman responded and walked toward Kurt, her gaze shifting between Kurt and Blaine suspiciously.

She struck Blaine as being someone in a leadership position amongst the warrior Sidhe. While all the Sidhe wore simple flowered headdresses, hers was more ornate and impressive. She also wore a sash across her torso with something indecipherable written in rich gold lettering. And her sword was clearly superior to that of her companions.

She was asking Kurt questions, and even though he couldn't understand a word, Blaine could tell Kurt was being evasive. And then, at one point, he gripped Blaine's hands more fiercely and began to sound angry.

And then he heard it. Kurt's full name. He would never forget what it sounded like. This woman used it, and the way that she used it...

She knew Kurt. She knew him. So why this odd formality? Why no hugging and tears of joy to see that he was safe and alive and home?

Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. Blaine heard Kurt audibly gasp. He followed the line of Kurt's sight to see another group of figures approaching on grimchins.

As they got closer, the central figure began to take up more space, both literally and as a matter of pure presence. His grimchin was noticeably larger than any of the others, and he wore a look of lazy superiority. He wore a garment similar to what the others were wearing, but his was a deep shade of blue, and he wore boots to match.

He was beautiful. His skin was golden and his hair was long, silken and nearly coal-black. His eyes were the color of autumn leaves. Across his shoulders was a magnificent cape, woven through with flowers that still seemed to be alive, and not losing a single petal as it whipped in the wind behind him. His headdress was incredibly intricate and simply gorgeous. It was a crown of vines and flowers and leaves and berries, and looked like it had been crafted by an artist of inhuman capabilities which, Blaine supposed, it had.

The six others that he flew in with surrounded him and landed with a crisp, synchronized precision. One of the guards (and they were clearly his guards) reached out a hand to help him down from his grimchin though clearly he could have managed quite well on his own. As he strode across the grass, the other Sidhe (with the exception of Kurt) knelt to the ground in reverence.

Blaine had spent enough time in a royal court to know a king when he saw one.

The king advanced on them, wearing a look of pure disbelief.

He stood before them and simply stared. Tears began to gather in his eyes.

"Kurt," he whispered.

"Firae," Kurt said, his voice shaking with emotion, before pulling his hands free from Blaine's and throwing them around Firae's neck.