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As the sky began to lighten, Prince Kurt pulled himself out of his light slumber. He sent Pavarotti out for another hunt as he began packing and reorganizing his things readying to begin the more perilous part of his journey. Merlin stood patiently as Kurt tightened the saddle on his back and placed his multiple weapons within easy reach. In total, Pavarotti returned with three plump rabbits before settling in on the horn of the saddle to watch Kurt clean them.

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Kurt was tying the last of the rabbits into a leather satchel, when the door of the wagon creaked open revealing the laughing faces of his two beautiful hostesses. “Your real journey is about to begin my dear Prince.” Brittany sang descending the steps.

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“True my lady.” Kurt returned her smile. “As a parting gift and in thanks for your generous hospitality please take these rabbits.” Kurt told them handing over two of the cleaned catches. “May your journey be safe and if you are ever near the castle of Illyria you will be most welcome.”

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The women handed him their own parting gift, a block of sharp cheese. As Kurt readied to mount his stead, he was surprised by a tight, affectionate hug from Brittany. With another quick bow, Kurt swung up onto Merlin’s back and bid them adieu.

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Blaine roused himself before the sky had lost any hint of darkness. He wanted to make it as far into the woods as he could. Orion stomped his feet in his hast to be on his way as Blaine loaded his back making sure his weapons were close at hand. He stowed his smallest knife and the branch that was already taking shape of a fine flute in a satchel secured to the horn of the saddle. With a nearly stale lump of bread in his hand, Blaine departed his temporary campsite.

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Both men traveled independently into the woods separating Illyria from Mount Mithrim. Eerie quiet, only broken by their respective steeds hoof falls surrounded them, as if the wood was completely void of life. Unseen eyes marked their progress but made not a move to impede them.

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Kurt was uneasy the crunch of the dead leaves and branches sounded like thunder under Merlin’s hooves. He kept Pavarotti close on the horn of the saddle as the day ebbed away. A prickling at the back of his neck told Kurt her was being watched, though by friend or foe he had no way of knowing. The trees parted soon to reveal a small clearing. Trees loomed around the edge, the perfect place for attackers to lurk, but Kurt had no choice but to stop for the night. Merlin’s pace was lagging, not only from the ever-encroaching trees but from weariness as well.

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Kurt slid from Merlin’s back and the sound of his feet hitting the ground nearly masked a breaking twig in the distance. He clicked his tongue at Pavarotti who flew quickly away before seemingly reaching for the water bladder hanging from the saddle. Once he untied it, the bladder indeed filled his left hand, but his right clutched a short sword. He would have rather had his long sword or claymore for their added length but neither would be easy to conceal and the space in the clearing was limited.

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The area surrounding Kurt soon filled with a falcon’s cry and the breaking of several sticks before Kurt was set upon. Kurt swung the bladder around catching the creature in the face. Seeing how much shorter his opponents were than he anticipated, Kurt quickly brought his fighting stance lower. Before the goblin could recover from the blow, Kurt plunged his sword forward into its guts. He barely had a moment to think before he was swinging at another coming up on his right, and then quickly spun around to dispatch yet another charging up behind them. Any idea of stealth was now lost to Kurt and his attackers, neither worrying about being quiet in the otherwise silent woods. With each contact, his sword made Kurt emitted a yell or a grunt, joining the footfalls and cries of the goblins around him. Merlin reared up and came crashing down trampling any goblin with the misfortune of nearing the beast. Pavarotti’s cries the overture to his own attacks.

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On instinct, Kurt continued to fight, barely registering each unique face as it distorted in agony upon his sword. The goblins continued to fall at his hand, but more still came to replace them. As Kurt swung his sword in a wide arch, dispatching three goblins at once, he felt a sharp pain in his left arm. Barely had he had a chance to try to face his attacker who dared to spill his princely blood, when he heard the goblin cry in pain.

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Yells, sword clashes and an eerie cry reached Blaine in the quiet woods. Quickly he urged Orion towards the ruckus. As he neared the fray, Blaine leapt from his horses back, sword in hand, closing the remaining distance. He emerged from the trees in time to see a young man fell three goblins with one swing just before a fourth pierced his arm with a twisted blade. Without a moment’s hesitation, Blaine plunged his own sword straight into the goblin’s back. His eyes met with piercing blue for a breath before they both turned back to the fiends still coming. Blaine fought his way through the small space separating the two men.

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Back to back, the two princes fought seamlessly against their foes moving without words together to the center of the small clearing. Neither could tell you how long they spent fighting together as wave upon wave of goblins descended all around them. They were tiring by the time they could finally distinguish an end to the assault. Three more goblins circled around them, the last still standing in the clearing. Pavarotti had long since quieted signaling he saw no more. Blaine swung out with a mighty grunt at one, sending its body flying through the air. Kurt then lunged forward to end the second, just as Blaine stepped back dodging an attack by the third. Blaine expected his movement to be halted by the body of the other young man, but finding none his balance faltered and he fell to the ground. Kurt hearing his fall spun around and caught the last with his sword before it could find revenge for his fallen brethren.

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Seemingly alone in the now bloody clearing, the two young men panted into the silence. Kurt’s hands were braced on his knees as he hunched over calming his breath. Blaine lay were he fell clutching his side. Before long, Kurt silently extended his left hand, which Blaine took willingly. Kurt’s posture was tense, but after a moment pulled Blaine to his feet. No sooner was Blaine upright, than he was being pulled forcefully towards Kurt’s body as Kurt’s sword plunged forward. Blaine’s eyes widened and his breath caught as he heard sword cutting through flesh and bone.

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Kurt pulled his sword back and out of the belly of the goblin commander. Once the last foe lay dead at their feet, Kurt’s heart stopped at the body pressed firmly against his. Kurt quickly stepped back and finally took in the new comer. Silently his eyes racked over the disheveled man before him. His curly black hair lay plastered to his head with the same sweat that covered the rest of his body. His clothes were finely made, but now smeared with blood and dirt from their recent battle. His bright hazel eyes were wide and searching. Kurt couldn’t explain the way his heart was beating frantically in his chest.

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As he was released from his hold, Blaine took in the man before him. His brown hair was mussed, sticking up in complete disorder. Dirt and blood smeared across his pale face as more coursed from the wound on his arm. What struck Blaine most though were those piercing blue eyes that met his as he entered the clearing. They made his stomach roll and his heart clench. He simply didn’t understand.

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“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Kurt spoke in his bright clear voice. “Goblin commanders never enter the fray unless all their minions are killed. He was right behind you…” Kurt words died on his lips.

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Blaine nodded vaguely remembering his lessons on goblins. Seeing Kurt wasn’t going to continue, he spoke. “I’m Blaine.”

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“Kurt” he returned, unable to hide a smile any longer. Breaking the moment, Kurt then moved to pick up the water bladder, now empty, a long gash mangling one side. He cursed quietly under his breath before slinging it over his shoulder, wincing at the movement.

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“We should really look at that wound.” Blaine told him, at his side in an instant.

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Kurt gave him another searching look. “There is time for that later, now I must find a place to set up camp for the night. Perhaps another clearing is near.” Leveling Blaine with another intense look, he then continued. “Thank you for your help, my stock is low and meager, but you are welcome to share a meal with me tonight.”

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Once Blaine agreed, they silently made their way to where Orion was waiting where Blaine had left him. They cautiously walked through the woods, their horses trailing behind them until they came upon another small parting of the trees. ����

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Ignoring the pain in his arm, Kurt set immediately to work ridding Merlin of his burden. He had just grabbed the saddle when a warm, firm hand landed on his shoulder. “You’re hurt, sit down. I will prepare the horses for the night. Then we can take a look at that arm of yours.” Blaine said from right behind him. With one final glance back at the strange man, Kurt gingerly sat against one of the trees.

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Pavoratti swooped down, perching on his shoulder and the pair watched as Blaine meticulously settled the horses to rest. Once their belongings were on the ground and the horses were grazing on the meager grass the clearing had to offer, Blaine approached a saddlebag and water bladder in his hands.

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“Now let’s take a look at that wound, shall we?” Blaine’s voice was low and soothing, any shreds of doubt Kurt might have had about his intentions slipped away. Carefully, Kurt started pulling the ruined shirt off. A shot of pain caused a moan to erupt out of him and instantly Blaine was there to take over. Slowly,� being mindful of Kurt’s wounded arm, Blaine inched the shirt off, exposing the gash along with the pale expanse of Kurt’s muscular chest.

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Blaine couldn’t quite understand what about the image in front of him caused his breath to catch, he stayed crouched in that position until the sound of Kurt hissing through his teeth at sight of his injury pulled him back to the task at hand.

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Kurt then moaned, “I really should have brought another shirt with me.”

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Blaine couldn’t help the chuckle that esaped, “We can worry about that in a minute lets get this cleaned up first.” He then grabbed a cloth from his bag and doused it with water before gingerly cleaning Kurt’s arm. Kurt tried to hold in any noises from the pain, but nevertheless a few whimpers sounded in the otherwise silent woods.

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For want of a distraction, Kurt broke the silence. “Thank you for your help back there. You had no duty to intervene but you did. You probably saved my life.”

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Their eyes met for a moment before Kurt had to look away. “I heard the fray, I knew someone needed help. I have to say I was surprised there were so many against one. You truly are a remarkable fighter, I’m just glad I could be of assistance.”

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Kurt looked down at the nearly cleaned wound, “Obviously not remarkable enough.”

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“You were surrounded!” Blaine exclaimed, looking at Kurt as if he had grown another head. “Honestly, I think most of the knights in my kingdom would have been bested long before I came along. How long have you been training?”

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Kurt tried to hid the blush at Blaine’s compliment, unsure why the words were making him color so. “Since I was eight, right after my mother died. I think my father thought I needed an outlet for my grief. He kept me busy, music lessons, languages, combat… It helped. Honestly, I haven’t been hit in years. Lady Sue trained us with wooden swords, the bruises from those last for weeks. I learned early that if I didn’t want to be miserable during the rest of my lessons, to dodge.” Kurt chuckled at the memory. “I think this may be worse than all those bruises though.” He said inspecting the angry gash left by the goblin’s sword.

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Blaine laughed then rummaging through his bag. “You were lucky then, Sir Dalton trained us with real swords. They weren’t as sharp mind you, but they could still cut if swung hard enough.” He pulled out a small pot. “Here, this should help the healing process. Sir Dalton may have bloodied us up some, but he also gave us a means to be able to come back and train the next day. Now with a wound like that it may take a few days to work but this elixir will help.”

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Kurt watched as Blaine gently applied the creamy substance to his arm. Instantly the area began to tingle and cool as the pain seemed to ebb away. “Handy stuff. Thank you again.”

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Blaine just smiled at him, a true bright as the sun smile, that stole the thoughts right out of Kurt head. “Let me just wrap that up for you and then we can see about another shirt.”

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Once Kurt’s arm was wrapped in a clean cloth, Blaine went back to his other saddlebag and pulled out a fine blue shirt. He helped Kurt pull it over his head before surveying him. Even with his dirty black pants, and smudged ridding boots, there was something regal about him. “You know, now you could pass for a prince.” Blaine told him with a smile. He missed the strange look that passed over Kurt’s face before he schooled his expression into a smile.

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“Do I now? And do you know much about princes?” Kurt asked.

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Blaine’s laugh spilt the silence of the woods. “I guess I should properly introduce myself, I am Blaine prince of Padua. From where do you hail?”

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“I am from Illyria.” Kurt said, pausing around the words, deciding whether he should fully identify himself or not. Something told him he should trust Blaine, but another part nagged that stealth was still the best course of action. “Are you hungry? I’m afraid that my supplies aren’t quite up to royal standards, but I do have a fresh rabbit we can roast.”

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They made quick work burying a fire to roast the rabbit. They decided it would be best not to tempt fate with an open flame, not wanting to attract any more unwanted attention, being already battle weary. Kurt tossed small bits of meat he saved for Pavarotti while they talked about inconsequential things. Once the meat was ready, Kurt doled out some dried fruit and the cheese, while Blaine offered the last of his bread. As they ate, Blaine brought up the subject Kurt didn’t want to breach but saw no way around it.

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“So what brings you to these dreaded woods? Surely Illyria doesn’t usually send knights, or are you a knight in training, in here regularly.”

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Kurt wavered for a moment before deciding the truth was the best path, after all Blaine had saved his life. “I am on a quest to save a princess. The princess of Navarre has been kidnapped and her father beseeched King Burt to send someone to rescue her. He was loath to send either of his sons, but I entreated him to send me.”

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Blaine’s spine tingled at this. “I too am on my way to rescue Princess Rachel.” Silence reigned once again as both men lost to their thoughts. After a while, Blaine turned once more to Kurt, “Perhaps we should travel together,” he simply stated.

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Kurt wasn’t sure why he agreed, this wasn’t at all how the stories his mother told him went. Two princes never sought the same princess to rescue. His head told him it wasn’t logical, if he wanted to find true love he needed to go it alone. However, he heart seemed to pound with the mantra, ‘this is right.’ So without missing a beat Kurt agreed to the plan.