"I can't believe it, I really can't! It's just amazing, Kurt. I don't know how you did it!"

"I told you, I'm a very good caretaker."

"Yeah, but...I don't even know how it's possible. Last night I was at death's door, and now..."

"It was probably just a virus that ran its course."

"But I don't just feel better, I feel incredible! I feel like I could run for days on end!"

"I gathered that, since you haven't been able to sit still since breakfast."

"I just...I've never even heard of anything like this. I really thought I was going to die last night. I mean, I could barely breathe, and now..."

"Yes, I know. It's a miracle. The gods will be singing your tale across generations. I can't believe that cow actually charged us triple the rate. How many decent humans do you have in this country? Four?"

"Kurt, what is wrong with you?"

Blaine looked over at him from where he sat on the perch, bouncing excitedly while Kurt drove.

"Nothing!" It came out harsh, and Kurt flinched at his own tone.

"I mean, nothing is wrong," he said more softly. "I was just very worried about you last night. I suppose I'm still a little bit tense."

"But Kurt, I feel ama-"

"Amazing, I know. Just...I think you should just accept it, Blaine. Don't worry too much about why it is."

Blaine gave him a lopsided grin. "I do remember you taking care of me, though, Kurt. Well, parts of it, anyway. You...it was so sweet."

Kurt felt himself blush, his pale features utterly failing to hide it.

"Well, I wouldn't get very far on my own without you, would I? It wasn't an entirely selfless act."

"Yeah, but..." Blaine furrowed his brow. Suddenly his eyes widened, as if remembering something vividly, all at once.

"Wait a minute, Kurt! You-"

Kurt swallowed hard and glanced at him nervously.

"You were going to...with that innkeeper. Just - just so I could get the room! Kurt, I never want you to think you have to-"

Kurt slipped the reins into one hand, and used the other to gently touch Blaine on the knee. He stopped talking abruptly, and looked at Kurt.

"Blaine. Let's change the subject. Please."

Blaine grinned. That sounded just fine to him. Because he was so happy he didn't think he could even concentrate on being upset with what that disgusting innkeeper had almost done to Kurt last night. Not when the sun was shining and his skin was tingling and every taste and smell and sight and sound seemed clearer and more perfect than ever before.

Especially Kurt. Blaine could barely keep himself from fixing Kurt with a permanent silly grin. It wasn't that Kurt had gotten more beautiful, it was that he could see how truly beautiful Kurt was for the first time. It was as if his eyes had been cleansed of dust and grime and haze and fog that he hadn't even known were there. He easily plucked out details that he had never noticed before, like the fine smattering of freckles across Kurt's nose that were only completely visible in full sunlight, and the rich varieties of brown in Kurt's hair, the rainbow of coppers and mahoganys and chestnuts and ambers, and the perfect jut of Kurt's collar bone against his beautifully sculpted chest...

...Well, maybe he had noticed that last part before. But that didn't make it any less beautiful.

And his eyes...Blaine was careful to only take small, measured glances into his eyes. They were too breathtaking to bear.

And the way Kurt smelled. He smelled just like a forest in springtime. How had Blaine never noticed that before?

Blaine sighed happily. He could still feel the ghost of Kurt's touch on his knee.

Even the light drizzle that started that afternoon couldn't mar Blaine's spirits. He tilted his face up into the cool spray, and wondered how he had never realized what a blessing it was to feel gentle rain on his skin.

He laughed, just because he could.

"Well, I suppose that is changing the subject, in a way," said Kurt, arching an eyebrow and offering the faintest hint of a smile.

Because Blaine was healthy, and Blaine was whole, and Blaine was still too elated to suspect a thing.

That night, Blaine was roused from a very pleasant dream by what he at first incorrectly surmised was an even more pleasant dream.

"Blaine." Kurt was whispering his name and rubbing his upper arm.

"Mmmm, Kurt..." he murmered, pulling him close.

"Blaine!" A sound smack to the chest. Oh. Definitely not that kind of dream.

Blaine's eyelids flew open. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt placed a finger against his lips and jerked his head in the direction of what were clearly men's voices.

Blaine sat up wordlessly, and moved to the edge of the tent. He grabbed his sword and handed Kurt his spare.

"You know how to use this?" He whispered. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Blaine," he muttered irritably when Blaine continued his questioning stare.

They crept out of the tent as quietly as possible, moving in a wide circle through the trees that surrounded their campsite. When they finally got close enough to hear what the men were saying, they crouched low and leaned in.

"I'd say it's definitely him. Makes sense, west through G'auri and V'auda, that's aimed right at Faerie country. Fit's Dronyen's theory."

Kurt and Blaine's gasps swallowed one another completely. They exchanged horrified looks.

"All right, better go let the others know. Let's close ranks, make this fast and clean."

"Blaine," Kurt whispered. "Run."

Blaine just stared at him, frozen to the spot.

"Hey, did you guys just hear somethi-"

"Blaine! Run!"

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand firmly and bolted into the forest. He dodged trees and roots with liquid grace, pulling Blaine to his feet with a bizarre level of strength whenever he stumbled. The shouts increased behind them, and Dronyen's men were hot on their trail, less sure-footed but utterly relentless.

Blaine's eyes shot to the sky when a flare was sent up, blooming red across the heavens and temporarily exposing them as if in daylight to the men behind them.

They ran through a small clearing, and then stumbled to a halt.

Because now the men weren't just behind them. Now the men were all around them.

Blaine's breath caught in his throat. He and Kurt released one another's hands, as if by silent communication, and stepped back into each other, backs touching and swords held aloft.

The light of the full moon exposed the gleeful expressions of the men that surrounded them. Dozens of men. Blaine recognized several. These were Dronyen's best. Hand-picked.

"Look at that! Isn't that adorable!"

"Is it true love, boys?"

"Hell, His Maj is right. The pervert is taking that thing to Khryslee!"

"Give it up, Anderson. Even you aren't stupid enough to think you can actually get out of this."

"His Maj is very disappointed in you. In both of you. So come with us nice and civil, and he'll go easier on you. Marginally. Maybe."

Laughter all around.

Blaine felt deep, cold fear settling into his gut. What had he done? It would have been better if he'd just died at that inn. Then maybe Kurt would have gotten away. Maybe he would have done better on his own after all, hiding in trees and sleeping under the open sky. Maybe he would have been better off without Blaine from the very beginning.

This couldn't be happening.

But Blaine knew two things for certain. First, he wasn't going to live through this confrontation. He could let Dronyen's men kill him, but he wouldn't give Dronyen the pleasure of breaking Blaine himself.

And second, he was going to go down fighting. He was going to put everything he had into that minute, infinitesimal chance that Kurt might somehow get out of this, alive and free.

Because if Dronyen ever got his hands on Kurt again...

"Frankly, boys, I'm finding your strategy of standing there and making cute comments at us a little less than threatening," Blaine called out, his voice strong and clear and unwavering.

"Kurt," he whispered. "Over there, south by south-west. You can get out if you don't hesitate. As soon as they come for me, just let those feet fly."

"Blaine," Kurt whispered back, "I'm not going to..."

"Yes you are. They just want to kill me. They want to give you back to Dronyen so he can break you. If I have to die to keep that from happening, then I die. It's my last wish, Kurt. You can't deny me my last wish."

Kurt inhaled sharply. Blaine thought he heard the edge of a sob in that breath.

"So, how many of you boys have been bending over for Dronyen now that his slave is gone?" Bellowed Blaine. "Thought your gait seemed a little off, there, Smithson!"

The man he had singled out flew at him with a scream of rage, widening the gap Blaine had pointed out to Kurt.

"GO!" Blaine screamed.

They both took off like shots.

Smithson ran at Blaine with murder in his eyes.

"NO! Smithson! We're supposed to save him for His -"

Blaine stopped in his tracks and turned to Smithson, glaring hard and bright, laughing at his rage, making him boil. He had picked Smithson for a reason. His anger was his undoing, and his impulsive charge at Blaine had every other man distracted.

Blaine held his sword defensively, to block the first jab. Smithson was going to kill him, he was sure of it, but maybe he could at least get a few good licks in too.

Smithson flew at Blaine and raised his sword.

And then the world seemed to come apart at the seams.

It took Blaine a minute to realize that he was on the ground, and definitely not dead. But the ground was moving. It was trembling. Men were falling down all around him.

And then the screams began.

Blaine managed to roll to the side just as a cluster of thick vines exploded from the ground beside him. They were as tall as trees, and moving with clear intent. Blaine felt something hot and sticky dripping onto his face, and he looked up to see Smithson, held high in the air by one of the vines, his tortured features sharp and bright against the full moon and some other unearthly source of light, and that vine was literally squeezing the life out of him. Blaine could hear the sickly crunch of bones breaking, and he moved unsteadily to his feet to get out of the way before even more blood rained down.

Blaine was only vertical for a moment before the shaking ground claimed his balance once again.

But in that moment...

Oh, that moment.

Because in the middle of the clearing, glowing with a light that seemed to make the entire forest glow, was a being of such incredible beauty and power that it took Blaine's breath away.

He took Blaine's breath away.

He knew it was Kurt, but even with that knowledge it took him a moment to fully grasp what that meant.

He was Kurt, and there was nothing containing him. Nothing weakening him. His skin glowed with pulsing colors, amber-gold and leaf-green and sky-blue and blood-red and pure, blinding white. He stood upon the trembling ground like it was as still as stone, and his eyes were blazing with blue fire.

And those eyes were trained directly on Smithson.

Blaine had never seen such rage in Kurt's eyes. He had never seen such utter homicidal malice. Kurt wasn't just killing Smithson. He was eviscerating him.

Just as Blaine lost his footing again, he heard the tortured scream and horrible ripping sound of Smithson being torn in half.

Blaine crawled away blindly, rolling and swerving to avoid the flailing vines that pursued the desperately fleeing men all around him.

"Kurt!" He screamed raggedly as the ground burst open beside him again, and he felt himself sliding helplessly into the newly-formed cavern.

Just as Blaine was about to fall, screaming, into the earth with two other men, a vine caught him and wrapped itself around his waist securely.

And he wasn't afraid.

Because, even though he couldn't explain it, the vine was Kurt. He felt uncannily that he was being lifted in Kurt's arms, carried out of the path of danger, and Blaine couldn't help but stroke the vine affectionately as it gently placed him on a high, thick tree branch on the edge of the clearing, outside the fray.

And when he touched the vine he knew that his instinct was true. Because as he let his hands slide across the smooth flesh of the plant, Kurt looked up, and their eyes locked, and it was exactly as if he were stroking Kurt's arm, and through the blue fire Blaine saw nothing but pure affection.

He leaned his head against the rough bark of the tree as the vine gently slipped away, and watched the spectacle below with awe.

A few of the men had the good sense to run away, but not most. These were Dronyen's best men, hand-picked, and they had been trained to see nothing beyond The Mission. Not death nor dismemberment could deter them.

And Kurt seemed more than happy to dole out both.

Some of the men tried hacking at the vines, but it was like hacking at solid steel. Blaine saw one particularly delicate vine curl itself around the hilt of a fallen sword and begin spearing men through the hearts as effortlessly as a knife through butter.

Two men ran at Kurt from behind carrying iron chains. Blaine felt his heart catch, and a scream of warning hadn't even made it to his lips when the men dropped the chains with howls of pain.

With staggering rapidity, the chains glowed red-hot and then began to melt, filling a slight indentation in the earth with molten metal.

A single vine caught both men who had been carrying the chains, wrapped around them tightly, and thrust their faces into the liquid iron, holding them there.

And all this without Kurt even bothering to turn around.

Vines crushed the men's bodies into pulp, tore off their heads and limbs, littered the ground with flesh and blood and bone. It was horrifying to behold, but Blaine was barely even looking at the carnage.

He was looking at Kurt.

True, pure, unbridled Kurt.

When the work was finally done, when the only living soldiers had long since escaped and, presumably, gotten as far away as possible as fast as possible, Kurt calmly proceeded to the edge of the clearing. He leaned against the tree where Blaine was perched.

Blaine heard a faint roar, which quickly grew in volume. His eyes widened as a rush of water, the likes of which one would normally only see at the breaking of a dam, approached the clearing.

Kurt stood calmly and waited for it.

The water flooded the clearing, an invisible wall seeming to shield it from the line of trees where Kurt stood. And it moved in such strange ways, swirling and tugging at objects, pulling things down into the openings where the vines had already retreated, and then the last of the water swirled, whirlpool-style into the caverns, and then the earth shifted and the caverns closed.

And the meadow looked like a slightly soggy version of itself from before the confrontation.

Blaine noticed a rustling of movement beside him, and a branch from a neighboring tree bent itself into what looked like a three-pronged hand, palm cupped, waiting for Blaine. He climbed into it.

The tree bent with a gentle creek, and set Blaine on the ground next to Kurt.

Blaine just stared at him.

The fire in his eyes was gone now, and the glow – Kurt still had his usual pale moonlight glow, of course, but the pulsating colors had faded away.

He was looking down at his hands.

And the look on his face contrasted so starkly with the look he had just worn. He looked frightened and vulnerable, and the fact that he wasn't meeting Blaine's eyes was clearly intentional.

"So..." Blaine said carefully. "The verbena. About two weeks, then, to flush it out?"

Kurt continued to study his hands. "More like a week and a half," he mumbled.

"Kurt." Blaine tried leaning in to catch his gaze, but Kurt turned his head slightly.

"Kurt, please look at me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to look in your eyes and see what you think of me."

"Kurt...you know what I think of you. Now that I've seen your power, I..."

"I'm a monster."

"No. You're a survivor."

And Kurt finally lifted his head and met Blaine's gaze.

"I didn't just kill them, Blaine. I...I..."

"You were a slave for five years. I think you're entitled to a little catharsis."

Kurt sighed and moved his gaze back to his hands.

"Kurt...that's how I got better so fast, isn't it? You healed me."

Kurt nodded.

"I...thank you. But...I don't understand. Why did you lie to me?"

"Blaine, don't," Kurt said softly.

"Don't what?"

"I...I can't."

Kurt brought his hand to his face, and his shoulders began to shake with sobs. Blaine simply looked at him in bewilderment. After a few moments, Blaine moved toward Kurt gingerly, and reached out to touch him.

He half expected Kurt to flinch away from him. He did not expect Kurt to catch the sides of Blaine's face in his hands and pull him close, so close that their breath mingled into one heat. So close that they were almost touching.

"Blaine, I'm scared. I'm so scared."

"Kurt, what is it? Please. I want to help you."

"Blaine, I don't know what you're doing to me."

Blaine breathed in deep. "Kurt," was all he could manage to say.

"When you said before...that I wouldn't need you when I got my power back. That scared me so much. Because I do need you. I don't want you to leave me."

"Kurt, I'll never leave you. Not unless you want me to." Blaine felt his own tears start to sting his eyes, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

"And I just...I don't know what to do. When I think about going home, I think about you being there with me. But you won't be there. I can't have you there. And I can't stand it and it scares me so much."

"Kurt..." and he wanted to say come with me to Khryslee. Be with me forever, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't use Kurt's vulnerability against him like that. So instead he said, "You don't have to decide anything right now, Kurt, but I'm here for as long as you want me."

And then Kurt's grip on his face tightened, and Kurt choked back a sob and whispered, "I want you so badly that sometimes I can't even breathe."

And Blaine's hands shot out and clutched at Kurt's biceps and held on tight, because it was the only thing he could do to keep his knees from giving out entirely.

Kurt slid one hand to the back of Blaine's head and laced his fingers into his hair, and then he moved that whisper of distance toward him, and their lips met.

There was no hesitation. Kurt leaned his body into Blaine's and kissed him slow and hard and deep, and he didn't let Blaine fall.

And as soon as Blaine realized that yes, this is real, yes, this is actually happening, he won back a bit of control over his limbs and he wrapped his arms around Kurt and surrendered completely.

Kurt tasted like a summer garden.