True Love's Quest
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True Love's Quest: Chapter 2


M - Words: 2,927 - Last Updated: Jul 31, 2013
Story: Complete - Chapters: 10/10 - Created: Feb 24, 2012 - Updated: Jul 31, 2013
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Author's Notes: AN: I am so sorry for the wait on this! The last two weeks have been crazy hectic; compound that with a bit of writers block and not much writing happened. For those following my other story; I will try and updated that soon as well. Please let me know what you think. Feedback is always welcomed. Thank you for the people who reviewed the last chapter and added this to their notifications.

Kurt pushed Merlin to his limits for three straight days, knowing he needed all haste whilst in his own kingdom, before relying on stealth once he crossed the border of Illyria. The few peasants he passed on his journey merely watched his figure fly passed as he made his way closer to the woods that separated the safety of the kingdom from the dreaded mountains beyond. If they knew it was the prince himself, no mention was made of it. Most likely, no one saw him well enough to determine his identity.

Each night the prince would stop just as the sun began to set, sending Pavarotti to hunt while he unloaded Merlin of his burden. The catch was always small, just enough for the two to share, while Merlin grazed on the sweet fresh grass the land had to offer. Before the sky lightened, Kurt was up and preparing for another hard ride.

As the sun began it’s slow descent on the third day, Kurt noticed smoke rising in the distance from just over the hill. He slowed Merlin to a stop, releasing him to graze as he would, taking his sword and bow, before moving quietly to scout the origin of the fire. He crested the hill, hidden by a tree and saw a beautifully painted wagon stopped in front of a roaring campfire. Movement to the right caught his eye, as a tall dark woman emerged carrying a large pot. Before Kurt could possible process what happened, a large black panther raced toward the woman, knocking her to the ground. An arrow was notched and posed to fly from Kurt’s bow in a second.

“Stay your hand prince.” A voice sounded from the other side of the tree, laughter hiding in the words. “Lord Tubbington will not eat her; he only wants the stew she was bringing out.”

Kurt looked over to see a beautiful blond woman smiling at him with a bouquet of wild flowers clutched in her hands. Yells reached them from their place by the tree, the woman was yelling at the panther lapping up the spilled contents of the pot in a language Kurt couldn’t place. She looked up in alarm when she saw Kurt standing there with her companion.

“Brittany, run down here at once.” She called.

The other woman, Brittany presumably, threw her head back and laughter like bells bounced around the hills. “Santana, his heart is pure, he means us no harm.” With that, she grabbed Kurt’s hand and dragged him towards the vardo. Kurt allowed himself to be pulled towards the woman and the large cat, who by now had devoured the entire contents of the stew pot.

Prince Blaine made his way to the border of Padua quickly, before crossing into Navarre. Navarre being a small, peaceful kingdom, it only took him two more days to come close to its other border. He could see the forest in the distance that lead to the Mountains of Mithrim. As the sun set he watch flashes of light appear from the shadows of the trees. From this distance, he could not tell what they were but something told him they were not manmade.

Pulling his eyes away, he unloaded his horse and prepared himself a quick meal while Orion grazed around him. The night grew colder, the small fire and three nights of solitude bit at him and he pulled his cloak in tighter around himself.

“Brittany, that tub of lard you like to call a cat just ate our supper.” Santana admonished as they approached. Brittany just smiled and grabbed her hand with her free one.

“Don’t worry about that now Santana; we have a prince visiting us today!” She said bouncing up and down on her heels.

Kurt turned to her his eyebrows raised, “I never said I was…”

He was cut off by a sharp look from Santana, “You don’t need to tell Brittany anything; she has a knack for knowing things. So if she says you are a prince, you must be, and if she brought you into our camp, you must be true of heart. You are free to join us, but the giant menace ate the last of our meat.”

“I can help with that” Prince Kurt began again before being cut off once more. He wondered if he would ever be able to finish a thought around these women.

“What do you have a hand full of courtiers just over the hill ready to bring you your fondest desires?” Santana asked scathingly. Kurt could only blink in response, the only person who had ever spoken to him like that was Lady Sue; he was a prince after all.

“Of course not…”

“Oh then were you planning on hunting with your princely magical powers, or haven’t you noticed that the sun is setting.”

Brittany giggled at that before cupping the other woman’s face with her hand in a manner that was so intimate it made Kurt squirm. “No silly, while the three of us may not be able to hunt Prince Kurt has a friend who can do it. Isn’t that right my prince?” She turned her bright blue eyes to him expectantly.

“Absolutely Lady Brittany,” he said with a smile before whistling low.

Santana had just opened her mouth to speak, undoubtedly to admonish Kurt use of the title, when she was cut off by a falcon scream. All eyes turned to the sky, from which the beautiful bird dove before swooping onto Kurt’s shoulder.

He stroked gently at the birds head as she spoke “Pavarotti, my friend, do you think you can find us two nice fat rabbits for a stew?”

Pavarotti snapped his beak a couple of times before pushing off from Kurt’s shoulder and taking flight once more. Brittany was beaming at him but Santana meanwhile was fixing him with an appraising look. Kurt held her searching gaze, his smile in place but his posture noble. She seemed to approve of what she saw, at least marginally as she turned back to the vardo. “I will see what other provisions we have. I am sure whatever we poor wandering souls have is not to par with what you are used to however.”

Kurt cocked his head at the change of demeanor, the previously fiery woman, now sounded meek. “Whatever you have to offer would be gratefully accepted. My father was not one for courtly dinners full of foods and delicacies not found within his own kingdom. Their appearance in court was a rarity, making the gift of them a far finer thing. Rather we dined on much the same fare our subjects do. I am also not one to scoff at hospitality given. The fire and companionship are enough for me. A meal would just be an added bonus.”

She seemed to be searching him once more as she spoke. “Most men of your station would seek to take advantage of two beautiful women in our situation.” She let the statement hang in the air. Kurt wasn’t sure what to think of that.

“His heart is pure Santana, I don’t even think he know what you are talking about.” Brittany interjected. “I tell you, he is special that one.”

Pavarotti swooped down then dropping a fat grey rabbit at their feet before flying off again. As Kurt picked up the rabbit and pulled the knife out of his belt to clean it, Santana spoke with urgency. “Brittany why don’t you run and fetch Prince Kurt’s horse, I am sure it is wandering around here somewhere.”

“I can just…” Kurt began, ready to tell them he need merely call Merlin and he will come. Once again, Santana cut him off.

“Don’t be silly, Prince,” this was said almost like an insult than a title. “We can’t have you over exerting yourself. If you want to be useful you can help me prepare a new stew.” She gave him a pointed look, clearly not wanting him to argue, so he kept silent. He watched Brittany skip happily away over the hill.

Once she was out of ear shot Santana turned back to Kurt. “It is better if she is not here when you clean the meat. It has been a long day of traveling and I don’t feel like explaining to her again that the rabbit is really happy we are eating it.”

Kurt nodded again, not quite understanding but chose not to argue, instead he began cleaning the rabbit. By the time, the meat was ready for Santana to cut up, Pavarotti had returned with a second, larger rabbit.

“Convenient, that bird is.” Santana commented as she laid eyes on his second catch.

Kurt threw the viscera to the falcon before speaking. “He is a friend… we’ve been together for many years.” Kurt said with a shrug.

Blaine nibbled on his meager meal and watched the sky darken. It was times like these Blaine wished he would have brought his lyre or flute with him. He spied the nearby trees. Slowly Blaine walked amongst the trees, inspecting each with care. He wound his way around each tree in the area. Further and further, he walked from his small fire. So caught up in his scrutiny of the trees he paid no mind to the low wall he crossed, announcing his arrival into the Kingdom of Illyria.

Then he saw it, the perfect branch high in a chestnut tree. Clamping his knife in his teeth, Blaine deftly climbed the tree to reach his prize. Minutes later, he had his knife tucked back in his belt and his future instrument in his hand.

As he made his way back to his sparse camp, Blaine finally recognized the wall and that he was standing in Illyria. He turned around to survey the kingdom for the first time, but darkness had descended around him. Instead, he continued back to his fire, ready to begin work to help occupy his time when travel was impossible.

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The smell of the fresh food made Kurt’s stomach grumble. He ducked his head in embarrassment as the two woman laughed. “Pardon me, the food smells wonderful. I have not had a proper vegetable in almost four days. I’m afraid that my stomach is a little impatient.”

“You have never had to go hungry have you?” Santana asked her tone was serious but not harsh.

Kurt shook his head, “We have never gone without. However, when the coffers are low, we eat accordingly. In Illyria, we do not feast while our subjects go without. My father has always been a fair ruler and when my time comes I hope to emulate him.”

Santana handed him a bowl saying, “The way you talk about your kingdom almost makes me want to settle here. Nevertheless, it is better for us to continue our wanderings. More than a fortnight and suddenly Brittany is heralded a witch instead of an attraction.”

Kurt looked at the sweet blond woman and asked, “How so?”

“We live a traditional nomadic life, dancing and fortune telling for food and goods. One too many of Brittany’s predictions come true and our clients are not so appreciative anymore.” Santana sounded sad.

“Do you enjoy the life?” Kurt had to ask.

Brittany beamed, “I love it, we get to meet new people and see wonderful lands. After we eat, I will tell your fortune.”

The stew was wonderful and company even more so. Brittany and Santana regaled him with stories of their travels. Kurt told them of life in court in return. He hadn’t felt this light during a meal in years. They laughed until their sides hurt. Once his bowl was empty for a second time, Brittany grabbed his hand and led him to the door of the vardo.

“Come, I know you have questions about your future, let’s find some answers.” She smiled at him.

Kurt looked around to Santana, who silently nodded back to him, her face suddenly solemn. The wagon was dark when they entered, but soon Brittany lit a single oil lamp, illuminating the brightly painted interior. Cushions covered the floor and a single bed filled the back, draped with exquisite scarves. The walls were lined with intricately carved shelves and beautifully woven baskets.

Brittany pointed to a cushion, motioning for Kurt to sit while she lit a bundle of sage before sitting across from him. Once situated, held her hand out, silently waiting for Kurt to place his in it. “Your hands are soft, like a baby’s.” She commented. “But strong.” She glided her fingers over every line, tracing the rise and fall, studying his hand they way some would study a work of art. The silence began to unnerve Kurt; suddenly he didn’t want to know what Brittany had to say about his future. He resisted the urge to pull his hand away though, and fought the panic, willing Brittany to speak. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what his future held, but a prickling at the back of his brain told him he needed to hear what she had to say, for good or ill.

“You will not find what you are looking for, but fear not, you will find what you seek.” She said, her voice rising and falling like a song.

“I… I don’t understand I won’t find it, but I will.”

She smiled sweetly before saying, “They say the owl was a baker’s daughter.” Her gaze held his as if that sentence was all the answer he needed. Seeing the confusion still on his face, she continued. “Lord, we know what we are, but we know not what we may be.”

Prince Kurt looked deep in her blue eyes, searching for meaning. “My sweet lady, I am afraid I do not understand this riddle.”

Tis no riddle, my dear prince. All will be made clear when the time comes. All I can truly tell you more is this; trust with your heart, that is what will lead you to your prize. Do not let your mind befuddled with logic and thought cloud what your heart is trying to tell you. Your quest will be a success but not in the manner you think. Remember, just follow your heart and you will not fail.”

Kurt took in her words and nodded. It was cryptic and defied all he had been taught, but that same thing that told him he needed to hear this also told him that the words she spoke were true, even if he didn’t understand.

“When the dawn comes you will be leaving us. May the sun shine, all day long, everything go right, and nothing wrong. May those you love bring love back to you, and may all the wishes you wish come true!” She nearly sang to him, surprising him by pulling him into a hug. She then led him back to the door. Once he was down the step she called out, “Santana, my love, I am going bed. Please join me as soon as our fair prince is settled,” before disappearing once more.

Kurt turned to see Santana staring at him as he made his way over to the fire, where she already had his bedroll laid out waiting for him. “Were your questions answered Prince?” She asked.

Prince Kurt shook his head, “Not in the manner I was expecting. I am still not sure I understand her meaning.” He paused unsure how to phrase his question. “Does she always speak that way; with too much prettiness and not enough substance?”

He saw Santana bristle at the comment, “There is substance there, just because you do not understand it does not mean is has no meaning.” The next moment she was gone and Kurt was once again alone.

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d he pulled his cloak in tighter around himseld.ght grew colder and the small fire and thethe trees. From this distance he c


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