Love can tend to make one careless.

It can tend to take up far too much of one's attention and overwhelm one's perceptions.

It can tend to make one feel unbreakable.

Love can be very, very dangerous.

Kurt and Blaine didn't notice that they were being far less careful in selecting their campsites. They weren't honest with themselves about how slowly they were traveling, spending far more time making love and far less time on the road. They didn't realize the extent to which they had become utterly absorbed in one another, failing to notice the details of their environment.

They didn't notice that they were being followed.

It had been over a week since Kurt had kissed Blaine for the first time that counted. They had found a beautiful grove, too lovely to resist, and had stopped earlier in the day than they probably should have to set up camp.

They spent hours in the tall soft grass together before they even thought to free the horses from their tether, Kurt feeling particularly guilty about this oversight. Blaine whined slightly as Kurt jumped to his feet, the sunlight sparkling on his naked skin, to give the horses some water and allow them to graze.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Blaine sighed. "I should probably put up the tent," he conceded.

Blaine dressed, leaving his boots off so he could continue to feel the warm grass between his toes. Kurt had put only his trousers back on, and Blaine admired the way his back muscles worked as he untethered the horses. He had begun to memorize Kurt's body, and he loved partnering the sight of him with the memory of how it felt to touch him. When he strained his arm, the curve of his bicep coming into focus, Blaine remembered the sensation of trailing his tongue across it. When he stretched his neck and the tendons stood out, he remembered tracing their lines with his fingers while Kurt's throat vibrated with moans.

Tent. Right. Blaine needed to set up the tent.

Blaine had just finished stringing the tent between two trees when Kurt walked over to him, still shirtless, and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist. Kurt's skin was sun-warm, and Blaine leaned back against the tree behind him and sighed as Kurt began to kiss him.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

Too late, they heard the rustle of leaves above them. Too late, they started to move when they realized something had started to fall.

When the chains hit them, Blaine was struck soundly in the head, barely registering the sound of Kurt screaming and the faint smell of iron before the world bled to black and he crumpled to the ground.

The first thing Blaine became aware of was pain. His head hurt so badly that he almost vomited. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up and promptly passed out again.

Blaine was slightly more careful the second time. He gave himself a few moments to take stock of his body before he even opened his eyes. He wasn't terribly uncomfortable; it felt like he was on a bed, or something soft. His arms hurt, and he wriggled his hands experimentally. His wrists seemed to be shackled to something, and his legs were bound as well. He opened his eyes slowly to soft lamplight. Very, very slowly, he began to raise his head. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he groaned.

"Blaine?"

Kurt. Kurt was here. Whatever else might be happening, Kurt was here, and Blaine couldn't help but let out a sob of relief. Blaine turned his head toward the voice.

His sense of relief quickly vanished, making space for dread.

Blaine was clearly chained to a bed, flat on his back, with his arms attached to the headboard behind him with metal cuffs. Kurt was directly in his line of sight when Blaine turned his head to the right, and he was chained to the wall. Kurt had a black eye and a bloody lip, and his skin had taken on a dull and waxy pallor. He was sitting with his head on his bent knees and his arms wrapped around his calves, and he was draped in iron chains.

"Kurt," he croaked hoarsely. "What- where are we? What happened?"

"We got careless," Kurt said flatly. The defeat in his voice felt like a knife in Blaine's heart.

Blaine closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, trying to bite back tears.

They had been so close. If they had just paid more attention, traveled a little faster, remembered how unsafe they still were...

"What are we going to do?" Blaine whispered.

"What can we do, Blaine? We've been caught. It's over."

Blaine opened his eyes and stared at Kurt. "No. It can't be over. Kurt, you know it isn't really over."

Kurt's eyes welled up, and he dropped his head.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine. You never should have rescued me."

"Don't say that."

"You shouldn't have. If you'd just left me there with Dronyen, you would be free now. And I'd be in exactly the same position I'm in now."

"It was worth it, Kurt." Blaine stared at him hard, willing him to meet his gaze. "Even if it gets me killed, it was worth it...just to be with you."

Kurt met his eyes then, smiling sadly. "It wasn't worth it if it gets you killed, Blaine. I'm not worth that."

Blaine attempted to shift himself to the side to more fully face Kurt, a link in the chains that bound him reflecting the lamp light on the wall.

Kurt was staring at it. "Blaine," he whispered, wide-eyed. There was something in his voice. Something that made Blaine's heart skip a beat.

"Your chains...they aren't iron?"

Blaine flexed slightly and inspected them.

"No. Steel, I think? I guess they don't want to waste iron on humans when steel will work just as-"

"Blaine." Kurt's eyes darted to the doorway and then back. "Please listen carefully, because I might not have time to repeat myself. When I...when I healed you back at that inn in V'auda, I may have left you with a little something."

Blaine's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt held his hand up as much as his shackles would allow.

"I had to. It's just...just a little bit of my power, and it's only temporary, so please don't be upset. But if you can...if you can get an anchor, we may actually be able to get out of this."

Blaine swallowed hard, not daring the hope to rise in his chest.

"Anchor?" He asked. "What-"

"You need to anchor the power in something essential to make it work. An element. Earth, fire, water-"

"-air?" Blaine asked hopefully, looking around him.

Kurt sighed. "No, unfortunately. Air is a conduit, not an anchor. But if you can get your hands on- there!" Kurt was staring above and behind Blaine's head. Blaine craned his neck. On the wall behind him, above the headboard, an oil lamp was mounted on the wall, a strong flame burning inside an open-mouthed glass ball.

Oh. Fire. That had actually been Blaine's least favorite option of the three.

"What do I...how do I?"

"Well, the only problem is going to be getting your hands on it. If you can somehow get your-"

At that moment the door burst open.

And Dronyen walked in.

Neither Kurt nor Blaine said anything. Dronyen wore a look of unmistakable smug triumph, striding into the room flanked by guards.

"Leave us," he said lazily.

The guards obediently departed, and Dronyen walked to the middle of the room, crossing his arms over his chest and looking back and forth between the two men.

"So. Boys. We've been having a fun little adventure, haven't we?" The tone was admonishing, laced with a dark mockery of affection.

"You know, I've been looking all over for you boys. And then when I finally thought I had you, you went ahead and destroyed some of my best men, and then disappeared all over again."

He chuckled, knelt in front of Kurt, and stroked his cheek gently with the back of his hand.

"But I don't mind," he continued softly, staring at Kurt. Kurt tried to look away, but Dronyen grabbed his chin roughly with the hand that wasn't stroking his cheek, and forced Kurt to look at him.

"Actually, elf, it was quite thrilling. I knew you were something special. I didn't think Anderson had it in him, but this couldn't have turned out better. I just knew that you would be the best I've ever had."

Blaine had found a loose nail in the headboard, and was attempting to work it free with his fingers. He managed to still them just before Dronyen turned toward him.

"You know, Anderson, I might just let you live," Dronyen mused, standing up and walking over to him."He had a bit of wildness to him when I bought him, after all, but after a few weeks with you I believe he's gone positively feral."

Dronyen growled slightly on the last word, and gave Blaine a lecherous grin.

"Although, you really do need to work off all those lovely things you stole from me. And we'll also need to calculate a fair price for your use of the elf. How many times would you say you've used him?" Dronyen sat beside Blaine on the bed and began to stroke his leg.

Blaine was quaking with rage. He couldn't bring himself to speak, because everything he could think of to say would just end up making Dronyen even happier. His hurt, his anger, his protectiveness of Kurt, all of it would strike Dronyen as nothing more than amusing and delightful, and anything that didn't strike him as amusing and delightful was likely to make Dronyen start hurting Kurt.

Because Blaine realized that he hadn't understood Dronyen at all, not really. He had underestimated his sadism to a fatal degree.

He had thought that Dronyen would simply be enraged that Blaine had stolen from him. What Blaine hadn't realized was that Dronyen saw this as nothing more than a game. He had probably seen it that way from the very start. He may have even given them a head start, reveling in the false and innocent sense of hope that he knew they would cling to.

And Dronyen had enjoyed the game because he knew that, in the end, he would win.

Dronyen continued to stroke Blaine's leg, allowing his hand to then trail up Blaine's chest, underneath his tunic.

"So I'm sure we can think of some way for you to pay off your debt, can't we? Because to be honest, you boys are both so scrumptious, I'm not even sure where to start."

He was looking at Kurt, obviously enjoying the fear and horror in his eyes as he watched Dronyen touch Blaine.

"What do you think, elf? How about I do everything to him that I've done to you, and let you watch the show? Would you enjoy that?"

"Please don't," Kurt whispered.

Dronyen threw his head back and laughed.

Kurt gave an involuntary whimper, and he was shaking.

Blaine swallowed. "Kurt, it's all right," he said, and he wasn't sure why he said it, it was an insane thing to say, because clearly nothing could be less all right than this.

Dronyen stood up, and clapped his hands with excitement.

"Oh, you boys are fun." He walked back over to Kurt.

"So, elf, I believe we may need to establish a few things if I'm going to keep you. Now, I believe we were having a bit of trouble before you left with our first lesson. So let's get back to it, shall we?" Dronyen leaned in close to Kurt.

"Who am I to you?"

Kurt was silent.

Dronyen grabbed him around the throat.

Blaine bit his lip so hard it bled, furiously working the nail in the bed frame.

"I am your master, elf. Say it."

Kurt averted his eyes while struggling to breathe. Dronyen smiled broadly, and pulled a dagger from his belt. He held the tip to the tender underside of Kurt's chin.

"Say it, elf, or I'll slit your pretty throat."

"NO!" Blaine couldn't help but cry out.

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He didn't speak.

Dronyen smiled again and reached out to ruffle Kurt's hair.

"Very well, then. Let's try this a different way."

Dronyen swung around to face Blaine, who quickly let his hands drop limply behind him.

He strode to the bed, and pressed the dagger to Blaine's throat.

"Killing him would mean nothing to me," Dronyen said seriously. Kurt's eyes flew open. "Now say it."

"Master," Kurt said without hesitation. "You are my master."

Dronyen roared with laughter. "I thought so."

He put the dagger back into his belt, and went to fetch something from the small table just inside the door. He returned with a syringe full of brownish green liquid.

"Now, elf, I am going to be kind. I have a proposal for you. I am going to allow you to choose to stay with me, and it is a choice you are going to make."

Kurt looked at the floor, eyes burning with hatred.

Blaine finally pulled the nail free.

"If you choose to stay with me, I will let Anderson go. I will personally see to his safe exit, and I will let him keep the carriage and horses that are rightfully mine. You'll never see him again, of course, but he will be safe."

Kurt looked back up at Dronyen, waiting for the rest of it.

"Or...I can keep Anderson instead. I will kill him eventually, humans are much more delicate stock, as I'm sure you know, but I'm sure I'll have the chance to enjoy him before it comes to that. And if I keep Anderson, you can go. I'll even see to your safe return to Faerie Country. Two hundred years from now you won't even remember him."

Dronyen smiled.

Blaine was working the nail in the keyhole of his cuffs.

Dronyen held out the syringe.

"If you take the first option, I'll even let you inject yourself."

Kurt reached for it.

"Kurt, no!" Blaine wrapped a fist around the nail and thrashed against the chains, as if that would somehow do anything besides make Dronyen laugh.

Kurt looked at him with an expression of pure misery. "Blaine," he said softly, "he's right. You wouldn't survive this."

"Kurt, he's lying! He's just trying to break your spirit, he's going to do whatever he wants! Do you honestly think he would ever free either one of us?"

"Would you like it in writing?" Asked Dronyen. "Witnesses? I'm being perfectly sincere."

Blaine worked the lock furiously.

Kurt took the syringe.

"Kurt, I'm not worth it!"

Kurt took a breath and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Blaine, yes you are. You're worth everything. I-"

And at that moment, Blaine wrenched his arms free.

Dronyen hurled around just in time for Blaine to swing a now-loosened chain toward him, and hit him squarely in the jaw with a heavy steel cuff.

Dronyen hadn't even hit the ground before Blaine was desperately trying to keep his hands from shaking as he picked the lock on the cuffs on his ankles.

Finally free of all his chains, Blaine jumped to his feet on the mattress, bracing himself momentarily against the wall when a wave of dizziness washed over him. When he felt a bit steadier he unscrewed the globe, yelping at the heat as he pulled it free and twisting around to drop it. He saw Dronyen starting to pull himself to his feet, and without thinking he hurled the globe at him, Dronyen falling to the floor again with a scream.

Blaine stared at the naked flame before him.

"Kurt, what do I do?"

"Take it and hold it in your hands."

"What?"

"Blaine," Kurt said urgently, as Dronyen started to stir. "Do it. You can do it. You just have to know that you can."

Blaine began to reach toward the fire, but pulled his hand back with a jerk when its proximity to the heat became too intense.

"Blaine!" Kurt sounded downright desperate. "You have to know that you can. Not believe it, know it. Know it the way you know your own name."

"Kurt, I can't-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I-"

"Well, I'm telling you the truth, Blaine, you can do it if you know that you can, the way you know that...that..."

The way I know that I love you, Blaine supplied silently.

He reached into the fire and picked it up with his hands.

Once cradled in his palms, the flame curled itself into a ball. It wasn't hot, but it was warm, and it felt like a fluttering ball of feathers.

Dronyen was getting to his feet.

"Melt my chains!" Kurt blurted.

"How-"

"Just focus your intent. See them melting. See them melting faster than you've ever seen anything melt. Faster than I did it that night in the clearing. Almost too fast to see at all."

"Kurt, I don't want to burn y-"

"Blaine! I'll be fine! Just do it!"

So Blaine did.

It was amazing how it happened; the chains just softened more and more until they slid off Kurt like a slinky fabric, leaving no residue at all save for uncomfortable-looking pink marks where they had touched his skin.

Dronyen was fully alert now, blood pouring down the side of his head where the hot glass had smashed against him. He looked at Blaine and spit out some teeth.

And then he looked at the syringe on the floor.

"Blaine!" Kurt called, and held out his hands.

Blaine understood immediately. He threw the ball of fire to Kurt just as Dronyen reached the syringe and lunged for the elf.

When Kurt caught the ball, an orange glow lit up his entire body, and the syringe flew from Dronyen's hand and smashed against the far wall of the bedroom.

Dronyen looked wildly back and forth between the two men, and then pulled out his dagger and decided to charge at the obviously weaker of the two.

As if he had not offered Blaine's life in exchange for Kurt's freedom, knowing exactly what Kurt was going to choose.

As if he had not heard recounted, in vivid detail, exactly what Kurt had done to the last man that had tried to kill Blaine.

As if he stood a chance in hell of hurting the man that Kurt loved without Kurt bound in chains.

There was a slight rumbling, and a ring of fire shot up around Dronyen, the flames thin and controlled and chest-high.

And for the first time, Blaine and Kurt saw genuine fear in the man's eyes.

It suited him.

Dronyen screamed for help, and the door burst open, six guards coming to a freezing halt when they saw what was happening.

Kurt fixed the men with eyes full of blue fire.

They ran.

And then Dronyen turned to pleading.

"You – you wouldn't kill me like this, would you? Look at me- I'm pathetic. I'm helpless. I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone, I- you're better than me. You've proven it. Please, I-"

"What's my name?" Kurt asked softly.

"I...I..." Dronyen looked up at Kurt in utter defeat. "Master?" He asked tentatively.

Kurt snorted. "No, Dronyen, I'm asking you what my name is. You bought me, paid for me, tortured and raped me, tried to break me. I would at least have expected you to learn my name."

Dronyen was silent.

"What is it?" Kurt asked again, the flames closing in slightly. Dronyen was sweating profusely.

"I...I don't know," Dronyen sobbed. "Please don't kill me."

"I've killed better fleas than you."

Blaine stood quietly behind Kurt. Dronyen sought his gaze desperately.

"Blaine...please..."

Blaine simply shook his head and walked to the other side of the room.

Because he couldn't think of anyone who deserved to single-handedly decide Dronyen's fate more than Kurt.

Dronyen met Kurt's eyes. Kurt didn't look away.

"Please. I'll give you anything. Gold, horses, a castle...titles? You can both have titles! You'll be the only elf in Villalu with a title, it would be..." He swallowed. "I'll give you anything," he repeated desperately.

"Fine," Kurt said. "Give me the last five years of my life back."

And with a slight flick of a slender wrist, Dronyen was utterly consumed by the flames.