Prologue.

Kurt chipped away the wood of the scroll he hoped would turn into a well-shaped violin scroll. That is, if he ever managed to finish it.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Kurt was behind, so very behind but there was nothing he could do about that. Except whine, perhaps. He knew how futile that was, not to mention a waste of time. It was much better for him to spend this rare moments of free time doing something he loved. Boy, would a little magic sure come in handy right now but, alas, that was yet another lost cause, because nothing in Kurts young life so far had alluded to there being any hint of talent in him. Magic ability was still rather rare to find, and, anyway, there were far too many rules to follow for it to be used so trivially anyway. If Kurt were destined to become a mage, then his life wouldnt be his own to live; there would be too many obligations in the way.

What Kurt really needed was more money, but that seemed to be just as unbelievable as suddenly discovering a magical ability – at least to him. The music shop he was currently sitting in wasnt his. He was just a lowly worker there; he wasnt even an apprentice to the luthier who had employed him. His pitiful payment for manning the desk and working the front of the shop was barely enough for Kurt to make ends meet. What he wouldnt give to be able to spend his days in the actual workshop in the adjoining store... Too bad he had nothing of value to give – that was his whole problem: lack of funds.

It was a quiet morning; there wasnt a soul in sight save for him. Such a scenario wasnt all that rare when most of the customers that frequented the shop had enough fortune to leisurely sleep in -- the lucky devils. Kurt himself couldnt remember a morning when he hadnt woken at the crack of dawn. No lazy mornings for the likes of him. No, Kurt had to work from sunrise to sunset just so he could earn enough to feed himself and have a bed to sleep in at night -- for however short a time.

No whining, Kurt, you still have plenty to be thankful for, Kurt chided, though none came to mind.

At least his violin was nearly complete, even if it had taken him months to get there. Once the scroll was done then he could glue it to the neck and put the few remaining pieces together. Kurt only hoped that, when he finished it, the instrument would sound better than his last attempt. Becoming a luthier wasnt easy, especially when Kurt had little time and even less funding to make any real strides with his work. So the fact that he was just a lowly shop boy and not an apprentice was still a sore spot. Still, Kurt wished that he could one day become a well-respected and -- dare he hope -- popular luthier. He didn't need to be famous or even that rich; all Kurt wanted was enough financial security so he could work because he wanted to (as a labour of love) rather than because he had to.

Somehow, for all of humanity's strides in evolution, when it came to the arts, things had taken a wrong turn somewhere. What had once been something everyone could freely share was now used for monetary (and political) gain. Music was turned into yet another tactic to gain power in an ever expanding and changing world. Where had the human race gone so wrong? And for what? Kurt figured magic had something to do with it. Mages literally held the most power in the world, so any attempts to counteract that... Any sort of talent, music included, was turned into warfare -- No. Twisted. Kurt was different, though, because, unlike many aspiring musicians, performers, and craftsmen of their day, his desire to create still came from the heart.

Kurt was so focused on his work that he didnt hear the front door chime as it opened, nor did he take any notice of the gentleman who stepped inside the shop. Kurts eyes were on the small chisel he was holding and the intricate design he was trying to carve into the wooden scroll in his other hand.

What finally broke his concentration was the sound of gentle coughing and Kurts head suddenly snapped up to discover he wasn't alone. Embarrassment flashed across Kurts face and he quickly (but still carefully) put his violin aside to give proper attention to the potential customer. “Oh, I am so sorry! I wasnt expecting anyone to come in so early,” Kurt muttered quickly.

But the gentleman hardly seemed offended and his response to Kurts apology was to offer a kind smile. “Its quite all right. I myself am usually not up and about at this hour, but a sudden emergency brought me to your shop,” he explained as he held up an instrument case in his left hand.

Just the idea of a damaged instrument made Kurt frown in concern -- mainly because he wasnt that good of a repairman. “Well then, how may I be of service to you?” Kurt asked.

The gentleman stepped forward to place the case on the desk and snapped open the side clasps. “I was on my way to personally deliver this to its new owner when I ended up snapping a string as I was giving it one final tune up. I blame my dazed state from waking too early and not getting enough sleep the night before as the reason, which would also explain why I forgot to bring any spares along,” he explained as he opened the lid of the case.

As soon as Kurt heard the word string, he was out of his chair and already hurrying over to where they were kept. “Ah, well you are in luck then. We keep a very good stock of strings, so we should have something for you. We have your regular strings made of gut, of course, but also silk, aluminum, and even steel, both solid and stranded... But the last two are rather costly.”

The man raised a curious brow at Kurt. “Do I look like a man who is short of money?”

Instead of apologizing for his mistake, Kurt chose to give the gentleman a look over, since he was practically inviting Kurt to. The first thing Kurt noticed was that the man was a triple treat; he was tall, dark and oh so very handsome. Kurt had always had a thing for fashion, even if he couldn't really afford anything truly grand he did try to look good. So did the man, and, unlike Kurt's own attire -- which was a second hand shirt he'd mended and tailored to the best of his ability -- clearly no expense had been spared for his wardrobe. His deep maroon suit, complete with matching jacket, waist coat, trousers, and silk dress shirt looked very splendid in Kurt's humble opinion. Kurt especially liked his matching top hat, though it did hide his deep brown hair, but that was the style these days. The man's most striking physical attribute had to be his strong jawline, but his chiseled cheekbones were also very eye-catching.

When Kurt figured he'd looked for long enough, he brought his attention back to the man's face and smiled at him politely. “My apologies, sir. I see now that you can definitely afford the very best,” Kurt agreed.

“An honest mistake. Ill have the solid steel if you please.”

Kurt brought out the correct string and handed it to the man, who offered the correct amount of currency in return, plus a little tip out of courtesy. The gentleman set right to work; carefully taking off the old snapped string to replace it with the new one. As Kurt watched his skilled hands' fluid movements, Kurts gaze eventually shifted from his good looks to his workmanship. What Kurt saw made his eyes widened in shocked delight: it was the most beautifully crafted violin he had ever seen. Its quality made every single instrument hanging in the shop look like mere toys for children in comparison. The envy (that might have been bordering on jealousy) Kurt felt was almost unbearable; how could someone so young make something that high of calibre? There was more to the art of making instruments than money alone; talent was just as necessary and somehow this young man had managed to obtain both… And probably with little effort on his part when he appeared to be born with both.

“I hope you dont mind me changing the string here,” the gentleman said when he noticed Kurt staring at him intensely.

Kurt blinked in response, embarrassed of his unfair judgement of a man he didnt know at all. Until he suddenly realize why the man looked so oddly familiar. Hed seen that gorgeous profile in the newspaper.

Kurt stumbled backward when the realization hit him, as if his presence before such a man was a major offence. “Oh my lord! Youre Hunter Clarington, arent you?” Kurt gasped.

Once again, Kurts flustered reaction only seemed to amuse the gentleman, who nodded in confirmation. “Lord Hunter Clarington the Third, to be exact,” he corrected. “...And your name is?” Hunter asked when Kurt didnt bother to introduce himself next.

Kurt blushed lightly before he answered, “Kurt Hummel.” Normally Kurt was never one to forget things like common courtesy – especially with a paying customer -- but then again, never in his wildest dreams would he expect to come face to face with the Hunter Clarington, who had wowed the whole country... No, the entire world, more like it, with his musical instruments. He was a man who had set the bar so high in recent years that it might take decades for anyone else to reach his level of craftsmanship.

“Youll have to excuse me... Its just... I never thought Id get to see one of your creations in person, let alone you here in the flesh,” Kurt apologized.

Hunter, with his violin back in working order, smiled at Kurt as he walked back over to the front desk. He took the bow from the case and brought the violin to his chin so he could check the pitch of the instrument. When the note the violin produced met his approval, he handed it out in offering to Kurt. “Well then, allow me to give you the chance,” Hunter said.

Was this really happening to him, Kurt wondered. Was Hunter Clarington the Third actually allowing him to touch one of his instruments? Whether he believed it or not, Kurt wasnt about to turn down such a golden opportunity. So he took a deep breath, steadied his shaking hands, thanked Hunter over and over, and then carefully grasped the precious violin.

Hunters presence was quickly ignored once Kurts fingers slowly glided along the smooth varnished wood. His eyes scanned the surface intently as his hands gently caressed every inch of it like a lovers caress. But Kurt wasnt just looking at the superficial beauty of the instrument, he was also taking note of its perfect shape and construction, and even its weight. Only the finest woods had been used and the special care and attention to detail, from the design carved into the neck to the purfling detail, was astounding. “Wow... Its simply amazing; a true work of art,” he breathed in wonder.

“Thank you,” Hunter said. “Do you play?”

Kurt smirked. “Only a little and not very well, Im afraid. Im better on the piano, but even then... I still have a long way to go before Ill voluntarily play for others,” he explained.

Hearing this only made Hunters smile widen. “Now that does come as a surprise. The way you were gazing at my violin, I thought you had to play.”

Usually Kurt wasnt the type of person to open up so easily to a stranger, but there was something about Hunter and his charming smile, mixed with his soothing voice, that made it easier to share his personal hopes and dreams with someone hed just met. “Truth be told, Im much more interested in learning about the construction of instruments rather than just playing them.”

“Ah, well that makes more sense…” Hunter said, pausing when something caught his eye. “... And what do we have here?”

Curious to what could have caught Hunters interest in the shop, Kurt followed his gaze and saw that he was now pointing at Kurts nearly-finished violin. “Oh, thats nothing!” Kurt blurted out in alarm.

“Did you make this, Kurt?” Hunter asked, pointing right at it.

It would be pointless for Kurt to lie and say it wasnt and all it took was looking at Hunters smug smile to know he wouldnt buy it anyway. “Yes, but its not very good...” he shyly confessed.

Hunter leaned forward on the desk but still made sure not to get too close to make Kurt feel uncomfortable. “Let me be the judge of that. We should make this a fair exchange; my work for yours,” he said charmingly.

It was no use. Kurt was powerless to Hunters coaxing grin, so he reluctantly handed his latest work over to him. He watched Hunter furrow his brows as he ran his fingers along the outside curve. The violin was still incomplete; Kurt had just finished putting the base together, but the neck, tailpiece, and bridge werent finished yet. He felt so exposed as the most talented luthier of the era assessed his handiwork, like Hunter was looking right into his soul.

A short while later Hunter handed the violin back to Kurt.

“Its decent enough for what youre able to work with. There is a lot of room for improvement but that wont happen unless you keep trying, so you can recognize your faults... As well as your strengths,” Hunter told Kurt.

While it was hardly praising, what Hunter had just told Kurt was very true and, more importantly, not cruelly said. He did have a lot to learn, after all, and Kurt was well aware of that fact to begin with. “If you wouldnt mind, could you tell me what you think both of those are?” Kurt requested.

Hunter complied and gave Kurt a number of pointers, suggestions and useful information that Kurt already knew could greatly improve any future attempts.

“Thank you, Lord Clarington. I am in your dept,” Kurt said warmly, instantly regretting his choice of words. Oh no. What if he thinks Im trying to flirt with him? Kurt thought in a panic. He hadnt been, of course -- yes, Hunter was attractive, but Kurt knew better than to take such a risk. If anyone learned he was attracted to men and not women, hed lose any respectability he had gained so far in one instant.

To Kurts relief, Hunter's reaction – or lack there of – made it clear to Kurt that he was not offended by the statement. Hunters body language was as relaxed and confident as when he'd first entered the store. “I can tell you put a lot of love into the violin and thats what really matters,” Hunter said. He pushed himself away from the desk so he could go back to his own violin.

It was an empty comment that, even when so beautifully said, Kurt could see right through… And yet he still felt humbled by Hunters praise – if it could even be called that. “I do try,” Kurt said with a smirk.

“Good, and you should keep trying. The same goes for learning to play, as well, because knowing how and why a violin sounds the way it does, from the inside out, works both ways, you know. If that makes any sense.”

Kurt laughed, “It does.”

“Care to be brave and give it a try then?” Hunter coaxed as he held out his violin to Kurt again.

There were few people, at least in Kurts position, who would ever have the opportunity to play one of Hunter Claringtons creations, so turning the offer down was near insanity. If Kurt had any confidence in his playing ability then he would have tried, but, in this instance, Kurt was well aware of his many weaknesses. “Thats very kind of you... But, trust me, I dont want to punish you that way. I only know the basics and I can barely muddle my way through the most simplistic song arrangements... And even then, I usually butcher them,” he explained reluctantly.

Hunter let out a disappointed sigh; he finally seemed to realize that, this time, Kurt would not budge, but all that did was make the young lord switch to a different tactic. “Fine, be that way, then. Though I am surprised... Because you seem like a very musical individual to me, Kurt,” Hunter said.

Already Kurt got the feeling that Hunter was the sort of person who rarely heard the word no. In other circumstances, Kurt would have been more resistant to the young lords charms, but Kurt was so lonely. Besides, he doubted Hunter would let go the matter go so easily, if his determined smile was any indication. “Well... I can sing,” Kurt finally confessed.

Hunter eyed Kurt curiously until he made the young man blush. “Yes. That makes perfect sense. May I offer a compromise then?” Hunter asked Kurt, who nodded in response. “I will play this violin, thus giving you the chance to hear one of my creations... But only if youll accompany me with your voice,” he proposed.

There were more than enough reasons for Kurt to politely decline Hunters seemingly generous offer; Kurt was supposed to be working and what if a customer suddenly came in? Or worse, what if his boss did? Kurt really could not afford to lose his job. While it was true that Hunter had given Kurt a few pointers, Kurt didnt owe him anything. But, most of all, Kurt had a strong fear of singing in front of people. It felt too personal; left him feeling too exposed and too vulnerable. If Kurt were to try to move past those initial fears would he even be able to pay attention to the music anyway? Or would he be too focused on singing and not making a fool of himself in front of the likes of Hunter Clarington? “Oh I dont know...” Kurt mumbled nervously. “I really shouldnt.”

Anyone could have seen how uncomfortable Kurt was with the idea; how tense his body stance was and the way he seemed to be using the desk between them as a barrier. But Hunter chose to attempt to lure Kurt out of his comfort zone, albeit gently as he made no sudden moves.

“Come now, Kurt. Its just one song. What are you so afraid of?” Hunter asked. Nothing. No response from Kurt, only nervous glances. “Where is your sense of adventure?”

Kurt wasnt used to being spoken to in this way. Hed never had someone so carefully and skillfully tug at him enough to bring out his more courageous side. Hunter did have a point, anyway; what was the harm? All it took was Kurt to look at the beautifully crafted violin now cradled under Hunters chin for him to give in at last. “Fine,” Kurt said, sighing in defeat. “If you insist.”

Hunter let out a hearty laugh at Kurts attempts at humour. “I most certainly do,” he almost flirted back. “You may choose the song, only please try to go easy on me. I am a much better luthier than violinist, of course, but my ability should still suffice,” he said.

The possibilities were endless, but it only took a moment for Kurt to finally pick one to suggest. “Are you familiar with A Song of Autumn by Edward Elgar?”

Hunter nodded. “Luckily for you, Kurt, I am, and it is a lovely choice. The piece is better suited for the piano, but I believe I can manage well enough. Here...” he muttered as he brought his bow up to the strings of his violin to try. His first attempts were a bit awkward sounding, but true to Hunters claims he managed to get the hang of things.

Kurt waited for the correct moment to join in and as soon as he'd sung the first note, the hidden performer in him instantly took over – happy to be set free at long last. Soon his angelic voice filled the little shop with beautiful music that harmonized perfectly with Hunters playing. Building, resonating, until it even outshined the music created by Hunters violin. As he suspected, Kurt paid little to no attention to the lovely sound, because he was too swept up in the moment to focus on anything but his own performance. Kurts voice was lovely indeed and he could seamlessly switch from low to high in pitch without much effort. He might not sing in front of others, but he had spent most of his life singing and perfecting his voice, and his years of practice had paid off very well.

During their duet, Kurt didnt notice how Hunters eyes remained fixated on him, ever watching. It was hard enough for Kurt to keep the emotions building up within him at bay. When the song was finally over, Kurt was left feeling raw and exposed and he needed a moment to collect himself. What had just happened to him? He had never lost control like that before, and he felt embarrassed by how easily hed left himself become totally unhinged like that. What would Hunter even think of him now?

The only way for Kurt to find out was to look at Hunter to see and as soon as he did, Kurt instantly regretted it. Hunter was staring at him, in such a way that Kurt started to feel unnerved, his look almost seemed… Possessive, somehow. But why?

Hunters charming grin returned and he appeared to be truly moved by Kurts rendition of the number. He took a deep breath, held it and let it out slowly and he took a step closer to Kurt, so he could put his violin down. With his hands now free, Hunter started to clap softly, until his applause grew louder and more excited. “Kurt, that was spell binding! You truly have a wonderful gift,” he praised.

Hearing such acclaim was new to Kurt, and he could only look at Hunter for a few brief moments before he broke eye contact. “Thank you,” Kurt whispered in reply.

Hunter gave them both a moment to recover as he put his violin away and, when the job was done, he returned his gaze back to Kurt once more. “Kurt, do you believe in fate?”

The sudden question caught Kurt off guard, but even when he had no idea where Hunter could go with this, he didnt feel worried – or nervous. “Why do you ask?” he replied, choosing the direct approach rather than risk misunderstanding Hunters intent.

Hunter, who seemed to pick up on his slight unease, relaxed his stance in an attempt to calm the young man. “I have been seriously considering taking on an apprentice and finding someone who has the same vision as me; the same love for music as I share and the same intense drive to excel. Someone I can share my knowledge with and, hopefully, if I give them the chance, they can help make my own dreams, that they also share, that much more a reality,” he explained to Kurt.

There was no doubt that Hunters speech sounded very nice, filled with pretty words as it was, but Kurt wasnt sold on the idea just yet. Though a large part of him wanted very much to shout back Oh please let me be that person! to Hunter without any hesitation, Kurt was too sensible for that to happen and fought to hold himself back. Kurt liked to believe he was a romantic at heart, but he knew he was also cautious to a point as well. He'd had to be, to make it in this world as long as he had. Still, Kurt didnt want to offend Hunter, or his dreams.

“Arent you a little young to have an apprentice?” Kurt said.

Hunter laughed in reply, as though he was charmed by Kurts wary honesty. “First off, I am older than I look, and, secondly why should I wait until Im old and grey? Its better to share what I know now when Im still young and alert. I certainly know enough to teach now and I am not about to hold off for the sake of what other people may think is right. Your work shows a great deal of promise, Kurt; more than I have seen for a long while, if ever. I find myself wondering what you could achieve if you were given the resources and time that you clearly lack. I think, in time, you could even give me a run for my money,” Hunter said.

Kurt snorted, “I hardly believe thats possible.”

“Maybe so, but I bet it wouldnt take long for you to reach my ability, or at least near it. Dont tell me that you arent tempted to say yes,” Hunter wheedled.

“Are you asking me to be your apprentice? For real? This isnt some cruel trick?” Kurt asked in cautious disbelief.

“I understand that you have no reason to trust my sincerity, Kurt, so what will it take for you to believe me?”

Little did Hunter know just how badly Kurt wanted to say yes, because when would an opportunity like this come his way again? Never. Even now Kurt still could hardly believe what was happening to him. But then, wasnt this what Kurt had always wanted: a chance to prove his ability? To show his worth and do something with his life that he could not only be proud of, but love?

Kurt eyed Hunter warily. He wanted to trust the young lord, so very much, but could he afford to? Just the thought of money and how Kurt really had none to lose made him a bit more bold. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look at Hunter, really look at him, going past his charming smile. “You really mean it... Dont you?” Kurt questioned.

“I do,” Hunter replied with a nod.

The lingering doubt in Kurts heart was nearly gone. All he needed was one final confirmation before he could allow hope to completely overtake it. “You want me, someone youve just met and know nothing about, to be your apprentice? Just based on seeing one incomplete violin -- and not a very good one at that?” Kurt said.

It was a credit to Hunters perseverance that he didnt crack under the scrutiny. If anything, it seemed that Kurt's stubborn hesitance made him that much more determined. He smiled at Kurt as he started to walk around the small shop and inspect the many instruments up for sale. “I was born into privilege, Kurt, as I am sure you have guessed. I never had to struggle for anything and, while I do not want to sound pretentious, or like an ass... I believe I have missed out because of it. Many of the great artist of our day suffered and they took that pain and used it in their creations, be it poetry, music, or something else. I believe that we could give each other the things we both lack, Kurt, if we were to team up together. Of course, at first the exchange of information will be more one sided, but not entirely. You are... So real, Kurt. Here you are, fighting from the very bottom and it would be such a waste if you couldn't climb to the highest peak of your career because of your circumstances. I am not saying you couldnt do it on your own, but, with my help, it wont take you nearly as long.”

Kurt had to hand it to him, Hunter was as skilled with words as he was with crafting instruments. “I want to believe you; really I do. Its just... Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I can't help but think that this is all a joke,” he confessed.

Hunter rolled his eyes. “I never joke about my lifes work, Kurt, and if you accept my offer, you shall learn that soon enough.”

“I--” Kurt struggled.

The loud sound of Hunter suddenly shutting the case to his violin cut Kurt off in surprise. “I understand that this is something you cannot decide on a whim. You will need time to know for sure, because if you agree, then there is no turning back. I will need you to fully commit yourself to the task and it is very hard work. I am staying in this town for two more days, so I hope that shall be enough because it is all I can give you. Think long and hard about it, Kurt; about what you want from life and how badly you want to see what you can do if given the chance. Ill come back here before I head for home on the second day, to see what you answer will be,” he explained.

Right when Kurt was about to say he would give the decision real thought, Hunter turned on his heels, made a break for the door and left the shop without another word – thus robbing Kurt of the chance to make any parting remarks. Alone again, Kurt suddenly became aware of how quiet the empty shop was. He felt just as empty himself and, in that moment, everything he lacked became so obvious to him. He could no longer be content with his dull little life; working his fingers to the bone only to receive so little in return. Here he had no future. He was forced to live out his days at the bottom of the food chain, abandoned and forgotten. He hadnt managed to answer Hunter but, if he had, then he would have admitted that he did believe in fate. He believed that certain things happened for a reason and that certain people met for a reason, too. Hunter had come into his life, not to become someone special to him -- at least not in a romantic way -- but their meeting could be just as significant. Perhaps Hunter was the key to making his dreams a reality. With his help Kurt could become a luthier and spend his days learning the art of making instruments while getting to use the best woods and having the finest tools money could buy at his fingertips. More than anything, Kurt wanted to see what he could create if there was nothing holding him back.

Before he knew it, Kurts legs were moving and sending him racing toward the doors of the shop. He thrust his arms out in front of him to push them open, bursting out onto the street as he searched for any signs of Hunter. To Kurts surprise, Hunter hadnt gone very far; he was only a few feet away from the stor. As soon as Hunter caught sight of Kurt, panting in front of him despite his short trip, he smiled at the younger man smugly.

“I am glad you have come to your senses already, Kurt. It saves us so much time,” Hunter said with cocky amusement.

In a moment's doubt, Kurt wondered if what he was about to step into would be worth it in the end. But then, if he were to play it safe and run from fate, he would never know one way or the other. The one thing he knew was that if Hunters conceit was as strong as this new side of him suggested, their personalities would surely clash. On the other hand, with someone like Hunter in his life, at least it would no longer be so lackluster. “So, just to be clear; if I become your apprentice... Then I take it that means I would need to come and live with you?” Kurt asked.

Hunter nodded. “In this case, that is honestly your only option. Really, its in your best interest, too, as we shall be working night and day. My home is tucked away deep in the countryside but I can assure you it is quite splendid,” he answered with ease.

Kurt fought down the lump in his throat. So he would be away from society, then. That felt oddly comforting, for some reason. “I suppose living in the country keeps any unnecessary distractions away?”

Hunter laughed at the unexpected snark in Kurts tone. “In a way, but it also keeps unwanted visitors to a minimum, as well,” he responded. “Wait until you see my workshop, Kurt! It will render you speechless. There are things there you will not have thought possible...” Hunter began, before he suddenly broke out laughing. “Sorry, I tend to get overly poetic when I start talking about music. Oh, the shame,” he said through his muffled laughter.

Kurt shook his head in bafflement, though, in all honesty, he preferred this less perfect version of the man that felt far more real. “Ill do it, then. Ill be your apprentice,” Kurt told him. Even if I dont know what to expect, he added in thought.

Hunter reached out to gently clasped Kurts shoulder and gave it a squeeze before stepping back to put the proper amount of distance between them again. “You wont regret this, Kurt.”

“If you say so,” Kurt said weakly.

“Let me tell you something that I havent told anyone else, as a show of faith. I am about to create what I hope will become my finest creation yet and you, Kurt, will help me bring it to life. Or so to speak,” Hunter began.

Kurt held his breath as he waited for Hunter to finish his sentence and he quickly grew frustrated at the way he was stalling for some reason. His silence had gone way past a dramatic pause for effect, but then it dawned on Kurt; he was testing him somehow. Hunter was giving something wonderful to Kurt, and it didnt come without a price. Kurt wasnt sure what Hunter expected of him or if it was anything he should worry about, but, for once, Kurt threw doubt aside.

“And what, pray tell, shall this new creation of yours be, exactly?” Kurt prompted.

Hunter smirked back at him; finally ready to deliver. “A violoncello,” he said with a cunning grin.

Chapter One

~Two years Later~

Blaine Anderson had always loved the countryside, so the idea of spending the next year out in the fresh air and away from the city already sounded very appealing to him. Better yet was the fact that he wasnt going there to improve his health – which was very good – but to better his abilities as a cellist. He could still hardly believe the opportunity had come to him at all, or that it was all made possible by one man: Hunter Clarington. It was his mansion that Blaine was currently travelling to by carriage, and by train before that. Soon he would arrived at his new home away from home to place his fate in the hands of the famous young lord. Hunter wasnt a cellist like him, or even a musician technically; he was a luthier (extraordinaire) and considering his worldwide acclaim, it was no surprise that he lived very well indeed.

Blaine poked his head out of the carriage window to gape at the building off in the distance. A cozy country manor house indeed! The only reason the immense mansion that Hunter owned was even in the countryside was because hed wanted it to be. Hunters claim that he needed to be away from the temptations of society to focus on his work sounded plausible, and, soon, Blaine supposed he would know for sure.

This arrangement had come to pass only a few short weeks ago, when an unsuspecting Blaine had been called into the Deans office.

~~Two weeks earlier~~

The only thing Blaine knew for sure as he made his way to the Deans office was that he wasnt in any trouble. How could he be when Blaine had the best record at school and a nonexistent social life to prove it? That wasnt to say that he was unpopular, though; over all he was well liked on campus and, to his knowledge, at least, he had no real enemies. The only reason he wasnt surrounded by friends and admirers alike was because he simply didnt have much time to socialize. Blaine was striving to become the best cellist of his generation, and that meant everything else in his life had been put aside. Music was everything to him, so there was no time for fun and games. He hadnt broken a single rule, or at least none he could be punished for, and yet Blaine was still nervous. As he hurried down the hallway, Blaine kept wondering why he had been called out of class all of a sudden. Was there something wrong with a member of his family? Although, if that were the case Blaine doubted he would be left alone.

What Blaine needed to do was remain calm and keep his usual positive outlook on life, because it had worked well for him so far. Sure enough, as soon as Blaine entered the room he was met only with smiling faces, one of which was the Dean of the school, another his music teacher, and the third remaining person was someone Blaine had never seen before.

“Ah, Blaine, here you are at last! I apologize for pulling you out of class, but there is someone who wanted to meet you,” his music teacher, a middle aged man named William Schuester, explained.

Blaine got the feeling that, whoever this person was, he must be important or else his request wouldnt have been so easily granted. Not just anyone could set up at meeting at Dalton Academy, which was one of the best musical schools in the country, and especially not one where the Dean was also present. “Is everything all right?” Blaine asked, even though he had the feeling he knew the answer already.

“Everything is more than all right, Blaine. This -” William replied, gesturing to the young man on his right, “- is Lord Hunter Clarington the Third,” he explained.

Hearing that name caused an instant reaction in Blaine; he blinked in surprise and quickly snapped to attention. Hunter Clarington was the most promising and talented luthier to come onto the scene in a very long time. Everyone wanted his creations, but getting the chance to purchase one was no easy feat. Hunter chose his customers and commissions very carefully, and his exclusiveness only made his instrument all the more in demand.

Blaine himself had the pleasure to play one of his lutes once, and it had left a lasting impression on him. Such perfect pitch seemed unimaginable to Blaine and it made him wonder just what secrets this Hunter Clarington knew? Instantly, Blaine thought that perhaps he was about to find out. He was the top student at Dalton, so if anyone deserved the honour of owning one of Hunters works, then it had to be him. This wasnt Blaine acting delusional, either; anyone who knew him would confirm he was a humble young man.

“It is an honour to meet you, Lord Clarington. I am sure you know already, but I am Blaine Anderson,” Blaine replied excitedly.

“The honour, Mr. Anderson, is all mine,” Hunter said as he held his hand out to the young student.

It was incredible! Blaine was actually shaking hands with the Hunter Clarington! Blaine was simply beside himself. Composure at this point was impossible for him to maintain,. He only hoped that Hunter wouldnt find his eagerness offensive, or worse, overly dramatic.

“You must excuse our young Blaine. He is quite the passionate musician,” the Dean explained to Hunter.

“I quite understand, Dean Ballard, and I find Blaines excitement quite refreshing,” Hunter said.

Blaine took a seat across from Hunter and anxiously waited to hear what exactly this meeting was all about. It was hard for him not to jump onto the nearby sofa chair and start bouncing up and down like a energetic child, but years of etiquette lessons kept his excitement (tentatively) at bay. Blaine placed his hands on his thighs as he gave the three men in the room his undivided attention.

“Hunter has come to give you a very golden opportunity Blaine, but I shall let him say it with his own words,” Dean Ballard said, nodding to Hunter.

Hunter thanked the man before turning his attention toward the awestruck youth before him. “You see, Blaine, I am in need of a talented musician to showcase my latest creation. Nobody knew about it, at least, none of the students, but I was present for Daltons winter showcase. You stood out from the crowd with your performance, Blaine. You left a striking impression with me, and in that moment I knew you were the person I had been searching for,” he explained.

Blaine's face turned to utter bewilderment at the very idea of Hunter having chosen him -- it didn't even matter what for, it was still too stunning an idea to wrap his mind around. “I am... That is to say... I dont even know what to say,” Blaine stammered awkwardly.

Hunter laughed, “If I were in your shoes, I only hope my reaction would be the same. Now, as I was saying... I have recently completed my finest instrument to date; a cello, and so, I am now in need of a cellist.”

“But why exactly?” Blaine questioned. From what he knew, Hunter normally made his instruments either to sell or to give as gifts. Both were done for his own political gain, as was the way of the world.

“There is a competition taking place next year where the foremost luthiers of the world will showcase their work, by having a musician of their choosing play their creation. The cello I created passed the qualification round -- which you can imagine was very extensive -- with flying colours. Since then I have secretly been looking for the right musician to represent me,” Hunter explained.

The humble side of Blaine resurfaced then, as he squirmed in his seat, ducking his head to stare down at his knees. “Surely there are more seasoned and better qualified musicians for you to consider. I am still a students and have so much left to learn...”

“Dont be so modest. You are the finest student to come from Dalton in many years, Blaine. Not only are you multi-talented, but your drive and dedication are equally commendable. What made my mind up, though, was your remarkable performance at the showcase,” Hunter said.

“This is a big opportunity for you, Blaine; one most people in your position would dream to have,” William pointed out.

“I know you shall do us proud, my boy. Hunter is right, you are Daltons best and brightest,” Dean Ballard said, adding his own encouragement.

Blaine was no stranger to hearing such praise and his reaction to it was always the same: he blushed as tried his best to seem appreciative. He didnt like to come off as boastful, but in this instance, he wasnt all that worried. “Im touched by your faith in me and my ability... And the chance you are giving me, Lord Clarington, is beyond generous. Only... What would it entail?” Blaine asked warily, and he instantly regretted his choice of words. “Not that I am not interested, because truly I am! But I do not want to misunderstand what you need me to do and just end up letting you down,” he babbled.

Hunter leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees so he could place his chin on the back of his right hand. “It is quite simple, Blaine. What I need you to do is dedicate the next year of your life to me and represent my skill as a luthier in the competition. If you accept my offer then you would come and live with me out in the countryside, and I would instruct you there. You would rehearse around the clock, with the best teachers where there would be no distractions from the outside world to hold you back. Dont get me wrong, Blaine, it will be hard work, but you are still a human being. If you think I am overworking you, then I expect you to honestly tell me so.”

Despite Hunters claim, this was no simple request and one that Blaine knew he shouldnt take likely. It already sounded very serious and yet Blaine knew he wanted to do it.

Hunter, though, had no idea that he didnt need to win over his would-be musician and it seemed he was prepared to say as many pretty words as he needed to do so. “Youre potential is uncanny, Blaine, and with my cello in your talented hands... The music we could both create... Its almost scary,” Hunter confessed. “But in a good sort of way,” he added charmingly. “But I understand that you will need time to deci-”

“- Ill do it,” Blaine interrupted.

“Are you sure, Blaine?” William asked. “Its a big responsibility.”

“I know,” Blaine said as he looked back over to Hunter and saw that the luthier was still smiling. “I still want to do it and I know... despite any doubts that I may have, that I can do it. I want my chance to prove my ability. Just like everyone else.”

Hunter studied Blaine for a moment before giving him an approving nod, standing up from his chair and walking over to Blaine, who also rose to his feet. “Blaine, I do believe this marks the start of a fortuitous partnership,” he announced.

For all of his confidence, on the inside Blaine wasnt so sure, but hed be a fool not to try. So he shook Hunters offered hand and made a silent vow that he would give it his best: win or lose.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now that Blaine was minutes away from beginning a new chapter of his life, the pressure was on. In fact, the sheer size of the mansion before him was nearly equal to the size of the stress he was under. Nevertheless, Blaine took a brave step out of the carriage and headed toward what he hoped wouldnt be a horrible mistake on his part.

Blaine was immediately approached by the doorman, who guided Blaine through the front doors and explained that his belongings would be brought up to his new room for him. He continued to explain that Hunter had left instructions for Blaine to be brought to him as soon as he arrived, leaving him no time to take in the mansion's impressive decor as he trailed after the footman. Eventually he was shown inside a sitting room, told to take a seat, given a generous tray of refreshments, and was left to wait for the lord of the house to make his grand entrance.

Blaine absentmindedly nibbled on a scone just to give him something to do but, when that did little to calm his rising nerves, he decided to have a good look around. In addition to the white brocade sofa he was seated on, there were two matching chairs on either side and a dark wood coffee table in the centre. On the right hand side of the room was a piano and the second Blaine saw it his eyes widened in interest. Blaine had often been called upon, sometimes on his own or by request, to play a tune for his family's many guests. It didnt take much for Blaine to recognize that this piano was not personally made by Hunter, who tended to make stringed instruments such as violins, fiddles and lutes – though it was still the best money could buy.

Blaine had just finished pouring himself a cup of tea when a familiar face walked into the room and instantly smiled at him.

“Blaine, at long last you have come,” Hunter greeted.

Since their first meeting Blaine had learned that Hunter loved to put the charm on and, to his credit, it was very effective. Already Blaine had to stop himself from becoming smitten with the young lord, who knew how to use his dashing good looks to his full advantage. What Hunter didnt know was that the young man he was innocently engaging with was romantically (and physically) interested in men instead of women. It was a fact that Blaine had finally accepted two years ago, but he had no intention of acting on, or even confessing to anyone. That meant Blaine had to be very careful with Hunter and how he reacted to anything he said or did in response.

“Im happy to finally be here,” Blaine said truthfully.

Hunter shook his hand before taking a seat in the chair to his right while Blaine poured Hunter his own cup of tea.“How does it feel to be a performing school graduate?” Hunter asked as he brought the cup to his lips.

Blaine smiled. His impending graduation from Dalton had been sped up so he could accept Hunters offer. He was touched by the gesture, of course, and humbled by the warm goodbye he had received, but Blaine wouldnt miss having to face the entire school to make the all-important graduation speech. Let someone else have the honour of being valedictorian; Blaine had enough to deal with already.

“Not much different, really, though I am sure that will change very soon,” Blaine replied.

After taking only one sip of his tea, Hunter placed the cup back down on the table and got to his feet. He patted Blaines shoulder lightly to get his new guest to follow his lead and Blaine stood up. “Well now, Blaine, what would you like to do first? I could give you a tour of your new home perhaps?”

Blaine appreciated the warm welcome Hunter was giving him, but there was only one thing he wanted to do. “If its all right with you, Id really love to see it.”

Hunter didnt need to ask Blaine what he was referring to, because it the answer was very obvious. “I was hoping youd ask that,” Hunter said.

Blaine sighed in relief, happy that his request was so easily granted. He cheerily followed Hunter out of the room and off to where the cello hed come to play was located. This time their pace down the hallways was slow, but Blaine was too anxious to focus on his surroundings. Hed left his own cello behind, at Hunters insistence, since according to him he would have no need for it anymore. So Blaine was very eager to see and test out this new cello of his – though it was technically still Hunters, of course. “Thank you, Lord Clarington,” Blaine said as they walked together.

“Please just call me Hunter, we dont need to act so formal when its only the two of us,” Hunter insisted.

Normally the idea of spending a year in the company of such a handsome young man might have caused a different reaction in Blaine, but even his secret longing for romance could be put aside for his first love: music. So he merely chuckled at Hunter and quickly assured hed try his best to act less formal but it could take a while to get used to still. Blaine was brought to a room on the other side of the mansion and, once inside, Hunter stepped back to reveal what the young musician had been longing to see.

“Here we are, Blaine. Go have a closer look,” Hunter said, gesturing to the item in question.

Blaine needed no further encouragement and Hunters presence was forgotten as soon as Blaine set his eyes upon the cello. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in awe; he knew it was just a cello but -- oh what a cello it was: dark rich wood finish, perfectly formed shape and intricate detailing; it was a true work of art. Blaine stopped in front of it, pausing to look back at Hunter, who nodded. With its creators blessing, Blaine reached out to gently touch the top of the neck and he felt a sudden jolt throughout his body. Ears ringing, he barely managed to stop himself from jumping back in alarm. It was as if he had gotten a static shock somehow, but then, when the cello was wood, that was impossible, right?

Hunter cocked his head to the side as he watched Blaine; his smile showed amusement and no sign of alarm. “What do you think, Blaine?”

The odd experience left Blaine bewildered, but he didnt want to explain what had happened to Hunter when he had no clue himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to come off as crazy, especially when their work hadnt even begun yet. So he shook it off and turned his attention back to the cello. When he touched its surface again, nothing happened. Relieved, Blaine ran his fingertips along its smooth surface. “Its wonderful, Hunter. You... You have created something truly beautiful here,” he muttered in amazement. Blaine continued to gaze upon the instrument, circling it and drinking in every inch with his eyes.

Hunter laughed lightly at the tender display. “Should I leave you two alone?” he asked playfully.

Blaine wasnt even aware that he had being doing anything embarrassing, so he scoffed,“Oh, dont be ridiculous.”

“Though I do understand. There is a special bond between a musician and their instrument.”

Blaine nodded in agreement. “Yes... There is...” He glanced back at the cello at his side and smiled. It felt so odd to him but, since touching it, he felt so drawn to the instrument. The urge to touch it was intense, but not nearly as much as the need to play it. To that end, Blaine picked up the bow that was placed on the stand and turned to look back at Hunter. “May I?”

At this point Hunter was already sitting down and ready to hear Blaine play, so his reply was an instant nod. “Please, go right ahead,” he granted.

There was nothing left for Blaine to do but play, so he lifted the cello from its stand, took a seat and got himself and it both in the right position. Once he was comfortably seated with the cello between his legs, Blaine brought the bow to the strings. “Do you have any requests?” Blaine asked his audience of one.

Still smiling, Hunter said, “Surprise me.”

Left without any prompts to go on, Blaine rushed to think of a good song and set to work. His hand guided the bow to slide along the strings to produce a sharp first note. While decent enough, by Blaines judgement it was still a bit clumsy and he strove to focus. He took a deep breath, held it, and tried again, glad that Hunter was doing nothing to draw attention to himself. Then, without any warning, Blaines fears were swept away and replaced with a sensation of warmth and security. With the sudden change came the confidence Blaine lacked and his second attempt was much better.

Blaine glanced at Hunter, whose eyes were closed and he was nodding his head to the beat, as though he was moved – but not to tears. The intense need to prove himself to others had Blaine striving to fully throw himself into the performance. He didnt know how, or even why, but playing Hunters cello felt different somehow, as if it were easier to reach deep into his emotional reservoir while playing. By the time the song was over, Blaine was confused, overjoyed and astounded, all at the same time.

Hunter broke the silence by giving Blaine a hearty round of applause. “That was a good first try, Blaine,” he declared.

While his performance was hardly praise-worthy, Blaine still beamed back at Hunter with bashful pride. “Thank you. I know I have a long way to go, but... Hopefully its a good start.”

“Thats why youre here, Blaine, to make sure you reach that point,” Hunter responded.

It was an interesting start to what Blaine hoped would be a challenging but enjoyable year. Blaine had no idea what to expect, but now that hed played the cello that had brought him here, the future didnt seem so foreboding anymore.
_______________________________________________________________________________

“Im so tired,” Blaine groaned as he collapsed into his usual chair.

His arms felt so heavy and sore that he feared he wouldnt be able to lift them again, and he let out a long sigh as he shifted his body around in an attempt to get comfortable. Who knew that practising the cello could be this strenuous? Blaine had always pegged himself as a hard worker, but he soon discovered that his level of dedication was nowhere near Hunters. It wasnt that he was over-working Blaine, at least, not to his knowledge. Never once did Blaine utter any words of complaint, nor did he admit that his body was starting to feel the effects of playing so much. He knew it was foolish since he had promised Hunter he would be honest about that. But, above all, Blaine feared becoming a disappointment and he refused to let that to happen because he couldnt go the distance.

So Blaine had powered through the soreness and was determined to just grin and bear it. The reason he could do this wasnt just because of Hunters expectations, or even his own; his life was beyond tiring, but Blaine was doing something he truly loved and that made all the difference. He should probably go to bed, but that meant hed need to move, so he was content to sit there for a while yet.

“I know I have no right to complain, but... This is starting to feel like a bit much, even for Hunter,” Blaine muttered.

In the past four weeks, Blaine had come to think of Hunter as a friend. Nothing more than that, but, all things considered, that was for the best. The last thing Blaine needed was to constantly be wondering if Hunter was attracted to him in and, in any case, Blaine was sure Hunter wasnt like that. Even without the chance of romance, Hunter was still enjoyable company -- most of the time anyway. While Hunter had seemingly limitless talent, it soon became clear that he also worked very hard to obtain such perfection in his creations. And Blaine had quickly realized that Hunter used this outlook on life with everything he did, including his partnership with Blaine.

Right away he had found himself with a very full and heavy schedule: he woke at dawn, had breakfast with Hunter, warmed up by reading various books on music, then went on to be under his instructor's tutelage, playing the same song over and over until he mastered it, then went on to the next. Just when Blaine felt like his arms would fall off, it was time for lunch, and then back to practising for the remainder of the day. Hunter would join him for dinner and, afterwards, Blaine was left to look after his cello to ensure the hard workload hadnt caused any damage.

“I must admit... That Hunter knows what he is doing. I can tell how much I am growing as a musician under his guidance. Its very hard work and most nights I feel so drained that I fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. Still... I dont want to give up and admit defeat... I finally feel like I am on the right path.”

Blaine glanced to his side and smiled warmly at his partner in crime, until he realized he was doing it again. “Although... I am talking to a cello... So maybe that is a sign that I am reaching my breaking point,” he said, chuckling awkwardly to himself.

If anyone was there to see him babbling away to a musical instrument, god only knew what they might think. At first Blaine hadnt even realized he was even doing it, chattering to his cello had merely become another habit. While he considered Hunter a friend, the luthier wasnt just there to keep Blaine company, he had his own work to do that kept him busy and, aside from mealtimes, Blaine rarely saw the man.

It wasnt like he expected the cello to speak back to him, or he really would have a reason to worry. So Blaine hadnt put a stop to it and, as the days went by, he found himself feeling oddly comforted by their one-sided conversations. Blaine supposed that speaking his thoughts out loud helped him get things off his chest and looking at his cello when he spoke those thoughts gave him something to focus on.

As soon as Blaine looked over at the cello's place on its stand, an instant smile formed on his tired face. He had no idea why, but when he talked to it he felt oddly comforted. Blaine was just that lonely, he supposed, and his instruments had been the one thing to stick by him time and time again. Hadnt Hunter said it himself? How there was a special bond between a musician and his instrument?

“Maybe I should admit to Hunter that I am feeling a little strained? Because I wouldnt want to work so hard only to collapse on stage,” Blaine said, shuddering at the very idea.

He moved his arm up and let out a pained moan from the action. “Oh yes, I really need to,” he grumbled in confirmation.

He would have gone off to find Hunter right away, but he wasnt sure where the lord of the house even was. Hunter was hard to understand; one moment he felt warm and inviting, only for him to change to closed off and secretive the next. Blaine could relate with that, though, because he too had things he had to keep well hidden, even when he still enjoyed the company of others a great deal.

“I suppose living with someone, whether youre in a relationship or not, is far from easy,” Blaine said.

Blaine looked at his cello again and laughed this time, standing up to slowly hobble over to it. He wasnt sure why but he disliked being away from it for very long. He ran a finger down its side absentmindedly, like he often did. The wood almost felt warm to the touch and Blaine spread his hand across it to be sure. “I think its time for me to go to bed. Im imagining things,” he mumbled.

Blaine lingered for a moment more before he reluctantly stepped away from the cello and walked out of the study that had become his little oasis. It was a place that Hunter had explained was his, where he could go whenever he needed a moment to himself. Blaine appreciate the kind offer and that hed allowed Blaine to keep the cello there when his lessons were over.

It was no surprise that the cozy little room had become his favourite spot in the large and lonely mansion. In fact, a number of times Blaine had slept on the chaise lounge in there instead of heading back to his bedroom.

“Till tomorrow, then,” Blaine said to the cello before closing the door behind him.