Blaine doesn't craft the offering that day, but he gathers the materials for it. He flies to the beach first, to seek out shells and sea glass. He gathers quite a bit, enough to substantially add to his current collection. When he is satisfied, he flies to a land village, as well, heading to the marketplace to seek out other additions. He trades some of the less pleasing shells and glass for a strong length of fishing line, which Blaine hopes Kurt will find funny rather than offensive, because it's the only thing available that he can string the necklace with that can withstand the water. And perhaps if he braids it, it'll look nicer than just a length of white cord with a shiny curing on the outside. He bought enough, and he can roughly measure the length it'll be around his own neck.

And then he goes through the stalls, and stops dead.

Marked very low, because of how imperfect it is, is a large pearl, about the size of his thumb. It's ridged, and misshapen, too long and thinner at one end than the other, almost shaped like a teardrop. But it's a beautiful silvery-blue color, iridescent and bright, and it reminds him of Kurt's scales, and his eyes in the pale light of the baubles.

He trades a full feather for it, a beautiful striped one that fell from the end of his wing a week prior. It's nearly the length of his forearm, and in return, the shopkeeper gives him not just that pearl, but two striped beads of tiger's eye, and Blaine thinks Kurt might like that they're the same color as his eyes, tawny and brown and orange and yellow and green threaded together in layers

and swirls. They're pretty, and Blaine and the shopkeeper both walk away pleased.

He has everything he needs. He just needs to put it together, and talk to Kurt.

—

The next morning, Blaine is tired, and almost late for his meeting with Kurt. He'd gotten back to the Eyrie quite late, and stayed up even later in his excitement to lay out the necklace how he wants it. When that was complete, and when he had a plan for braiding and threading all the beads and glass and gems and feathers, he got the tools for it out and laid them in order, ready to be used the next day, as soon as he's done talking to Kurt. Now that he has a plan, he doesn't want to waste anymore time. He wants Kurt to behis.

But the next morning, Kurt is definitely late.

Blaine waits for him for just over an hour before he arrives. When he surfaces, he immediately throws his arms up to cling to the rock, gasping as he drags himself halfway out of the water.

Something is very wrong.

"Blaine—" he croaks, coughing, and Blaine, completely disregarding his own safety, slides down the rock to help him out. He doesn't even mind when a few of the feathers on his wrist get water from Kurt's hair on them—it doesn't matter, not when he can see bruises over Kurt's pale back, concentrated over his ribs, but spreading out down his spine and across his shoulders.

Some of them look like they've bled. Blaine can't see, he has to be able to see—

"Kurt, can you stay here?" he asks, brushing Kurt's hair back. He can't even see his face, with him lying face-down, his head buried in his arms. But he can dosomething, he has to dosomething— "Can I leave you for a second? I need—I need light—"

Kurt nods, and Blaine stands and takes off, flying up to one of the baubles hanging along the top of the cave. He plucks it down, and drops, landing heavily and rushing back to the water. As soon as he dips the bauble in the water, it brightens from its dim glow, and he settles it carefully on the rock before returning to Kurt.

He definitely has some scratches that bled, but it's not as bad as Blaine thought—that, or Kurt healed himself, though Blaine's not sure if that would work, or how. His bruises are dark, and widely scattered, and Blaine catches some around Kurt's arms that are certainly in the shape of fingers.

"Kurt—"

"I...they know," Kurt says. "Not about here, but—that I'm going somewhere. Maybe. I don't know."

"What? Kurt, tell me what happened, are you okay—"

"I'll be fine," Kurt says, his voice clearing up, and Kurt pushes himself til he's on his back. His chest heaves for breath, and Blaine grabs his hand, lifting it gently so he can kiss the back of it, looking sadly at the bruises just where it thins to his wrist, which looks suddenly fragile.

"Who—who did this, Kurt?"

"Just some boys from my tribe," Kurt replies, and his tone is far too dismissive for something that makes Blaine want to curse his own well-being and swim down to deliver punishment to whoever did this. "They—they harass me, sometimes. Whenever they catch me away from my friends. I don't know what they were doing so near the shore, but I ran into them on my way here, and they questioned me. I told them I was going to the beach, that I'd lost a necklace when I washed up and wanted to look for it, but they didn't believe me. They—I don't know what they think, but they started to grab me, and they pushed me into some rocks—"

"Oh, Kurt—"

"—I can't...I don't know what to do, Blaine. I'm so sorry."

Kurt's face is crumpled, and he lifts his hands, pulling the one that is held in Blaine's away, covering his eyes and shaking.

Can Kurt cry? Can he add, drop by drop, to the ocean around him? How much of its swell has already come from his eyes, because of the horrible things done to him? Because of the people who were taught that it was okay? How much came from the loss of his mother, and the fact that he is not free to love? How much of this damned ocean came from his beautiful Kurt's pain?

Blaine hates the ocean. He hates it so much—

"I'm going to be okay, Blaine."

"No you aren't," Blaine says, and Kurt flinches. Blaine immediately reaches out, brushing his hair back again, tucking his braids behind his ears, brushing his cheeks afterward. Kurt's eyes are huge, staring at him, shocked, but happy, and Blaine smiles at him. It's the closest they've ever been, the most contact between them, and Blaine doesn't want it to stop. He wants Kurt's skin to warm to his, to see a flush in those cheeks, to see him lookalive—

"Kurt, how are you—what are you going to do? They...they're going to hurt you again, aren't they?"

Kurt bites his lip and turns his face, looking away, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinks rapidly. Blaine reaches out and cups his jaw, turning his face back.

"Tell me the truth."

"If—I've been putting off my union with Santana," Kurt admits. "I...I've had a lot of excuses. If...if I do it much more, they'll do much worse than this."

It's said so calmly, so blankly, and Blaine feels rage quaking in him. He bites it back and takes a deep breath. Hehasto do this.

"Kurt, you could leave."

Kurt looks up at him skeptically.

"No, Blaine, I can't—"

"You can—"

"Where?" Kurt bursts out, frustration etching every line of him. "Where would I go, Blaine? Anyone wouldkillme—"

"Yourpeople would kill you. Not mine."

Kurt gasps, his body tensing and going almost rigid.

"Blaine, how—"

"There are Eyries by the sea," Blaine says.Pleads. "Other places, where we won't be so close to your people. You could...I'd build us a home, I'd figure it out. It could be halfway into the water, and you could stay down there, and I'd sleep right next to the water, and we—we could be together."

Kurt stares at him seriously, his mouth set in a thin line.

"Blaine, what do you mean by together."

Blaine licks his lips, and shuffles where he sits. He needs Kurt to understand this. He takes his hand.

"Kurt, there is a moment...when you say to yourself—'Oh! There you are.'"

He looks into Kurt's eyes, and smiles.

"I've been looking for you forever."

"Oh, Blaine—"

"I—I know it'll be hard," he continues, frantic to get it all out, toconvinceKurt. Because he knows Kurt is scared, but heknows, he can see in Kurt's eyes, that he feels this, too. "We'll never be...exactly like I'm sure we've both wanted. But...I want to try. Can...can we do that, Kurt? Can we try?"

"What exactly are we trying?" Kurt asks, barely above a whisper.

Blaine leans in, touching their foreheads. He stares at Kurt's mouth, parted to draw in breath when Blaine's own lungs feel like they can't hold another bit of air.

"I want you to be my mate."

Kurt's voice breaks out in a sob, and his head drops to Blaine's shoulder. He buries his eyes in Blaine's neck, and his arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, his fingers barely brushing into his feathers. Blaine shivers at the contact, and holds Kurt close, hands gentle on his bruised and battered back.

"Say yes."

Kurt laughs, and nods, lifting his head and smiling widely.

"Okay."

Blaine grins at him, and reaches up with one hand to cup Kurt's face.

"Okay," he whispers back, closing the space between them and covering Kurt's lips with his own.

Kurt stops breathing as Blaine moves their lips together, and is still for a long moment before he relaxes and responds, following Blaine's lead for only a moment before he takes charge, reaching up to hold Blaine's cheek in one hand, tilting him and taking his top lip between his own. Blaine lets out a breathy moan, licking at Kurt's bottom lip and pulling him closer, breathing in everything about him until he pulls away slowly.

"Oh," he says, and Blaine laughs.

"I know," he breathes.

Kurt smiles at him, and then pulls back.

"How...how can this work?" he asks. "If I go back, they'll ask where I was. I...I'm not sure—"

"How far do you think we should go?" Blaine asks. "I can ask tonight about other Eyries, and I might be able to send a message."

"I'm not sure," Kurt says, shaking his head. "I can...I can talk to my dad, and Isabelle, the Shaman who doesn't think I'm an abomination." He grimaces bitterly. "She might be able to tell me where I can go, if there's a place my people don't go. Or even if there's...if there's something I can do."

"One more day, then," Blaine says assuredly. "Go back one more time. Find out what you can, and then...do they know about these caves?"

"Some do," Kurt replies, and Blaine bites his lip.

"We'll have to be quick, then," he muses. "I'll find out what I can tonight. We'll meet here tomorrow, and then...if we can, we'll go. If not, I can make sure you're comfortable here, or I can take you to an inland lake temporarily, so you can at least have water while we wait for an opportunity. I know it will be hard—if you have any other ideas—"

"No, I'll do it," Kurt says. "I'll do it for you. I can say goodbye to my father tonight, and Isabelle. They can say goodbye to everyone else for me once I'm gone, I can't risk one of them telling someone else—"

"You're incredible, Kurt," Blaine blurts out, smiling at him lovingly, and Kurt beams.

"I can leave," he says, as though it's a revelation. "I can...Blaine, I can leave. I'm going to be free. Because of you."

He throws himself at Blaine, kissing him hard, wrapping his arms around Blaine as tightly as he can.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Blaine kisses him back.

"Thankyou."

—

With a plan in place, Blaine's heart is as light as his bones, and he goes back to the Eyrie prepared to tell them everything. While they could have stopped him before, if only for his own safety, they can't now—there are a lot of exceptions made for mates, and Blaine intends to make his offering to Kurt. It's enough.

It's not enough to convince some people, but most accept it with a shrug. Blaine tells his parents first, who don't understand, but once he declares his intention to mate, they accede to his judgment. But they take him to the Elders, one of whom is not easy to convince.

"Why should our people have to go to these lengths for a fish?" Sue asks. She's an intimidating woman, golden-feathered and severe, but thankfully, Jan, a sweet little woman who always had a fondness for Blaine, cuts in.

"We go to these lengths for any who need the help," she insists. "If this...merman is Blaine's intended mate, then he's one of us. We make special cases for the land folk, if one of the Winged wants to mate them. We can make exceptions for this."

Without waiting for a reply from Sue, something that Blaine sees causes a great deal of ire in Sue herself, Jan turns back to him.

"I believe there's an Eyrie two days' flight up the coast. They don't have cliffs like ours, but they do have caves they build their nests in. I'm sure there will be caves near enough to the water to have a connection to it. You and your Kurt can find a home there, I'm sure. I'll send word—you should know in a week if it's acceptable, though I don't see why not. Til then, you said you've been going into a cave already?"

Blaine blushes, shame-faced, as he nods, admitting it.

"Yes, I have."

"Don't take too many more risks, but if the cave has been safe this far, I'm sure it'll continue to be so for a few more days. Let us know if there is any help we can give you."

She speaks for the Elders, technically, but Blaine knows she's speaking mostly for herself. She and her mate Liz have always had exactly what Blaine wants—a lifelong, strong love, filled with joy.

His friends find out next, though they need little telling. They simply ask him—

"Do you love him?"

His smile is answer enough.

So he spends the rest of the night crafting the necklace. He's not even halfway done by the time he needs to sleep—it's intricate, delicate work, especially boring holes in the shells and glass he selected himself from the beach. And handling the line, twining and twisting and threading it, is a job for smaller fingers than his own. But he perseveres, and it's starting to turn into something lovely when he lays down to sleep.

The next morning, he wakes before the sun. He grooms himself quickly, haphazardly, knowing he missed far too many spots, but it's not important today. The only thing that matters is seeing Kurt, and letting him know that he finally has a home, a place to go. Theycando this.

—

Blaine waits for hours in the cave. Kurt doesn't show up.

His heart falls with every passing moment, and there are many. But he waits, dipping the baubles when they dim, absently picking at his feathers and brushing them into place, circling the cave and peering into the water as deeply as he can, as though Kurt is hiding just out of view.

He's not.

Blaine isn't ready to give up, but he's well on his way, when Kurt finally surfaces.

"Kurt, there—"

Kurt looks at him like the world is crumbling.

"—you are. Kurt?"

He reaches out, but Kurt quickly swims backward, out of reach. He holds himself with his arms, shoulders hunched, face drawn in misery. Blaine's heart clenches—this isn't right, something's not right, something's happened—

"Kurt, what's happening?"

"I...I can't come with you, Blaine."

Blaine's lungs feel rock-hard, his heart frozen.

"Yes you can," Blaine insists, hope draining away from him like the blood draining from his face. "I spoke to my Elders. They'll accept you, they have a place for us—"

"They know. My people...they know."

Kurt looks up, and he's crying. Tears stream down his face freely.

"I'm not even supposed to be here. My father—my father pretended he was going to punish me. He's letting me say goodbye."

"No," Blaine says immediately. "No, don't say goodbye, never say goodbye to me—"

"I have to," Kurt sobs. "They're going to kill everyone. My father, Isabelle, Santana. If I don't...cooperate, if I don't go back, if I don't marry Santana and do as they say, they'll kill them. And they'll send anyone they can to find me and kill me, too."

"Why?" Blaine demands, frustration and hurt and anger overwhelming him. "Why can't they just let you go? Why can't they let it be? One person, they can let one person go—"

"No they can't," Kurt cries. "Can't you see? If they let me go, what's to stop anyone else from leaving? What's to stop others from being different and going after what they want instead of what's best for the tribe? What the gods tell them is right? They can't let me win, or they lose credibility, Blaine. That's all this is about."

His face completely crumples, and Blaine scoots down further, reaching out.

"Please come here, Kurt. Please."

Kurt sobs hard and swims forward, right into Blaine's arms. He buries his face in Blaine's neck and cries, long and loud and broken, and Blaine feels himself tearing up along with him, slowly losing control of his heartbreak.

"There's nothing we can do?"

"...no."

Blaine kisses Kurt hard, frantically. Kurt kisses back for only a moment before he hiccups out another broken cry of grief, pulling away.

"I have to go," he says.

"No," Blaine pleads, holding tighter. "No, don't go. Kurt, please don't—"

"I have to—"

"—we can figure this out, we'll—"

"—let me go, Blaine—"

"—no—"

"I can't do this!" Kurt shouts, wrenching himself away. "Say goodbye to me, Blaine."

"No. No, I won't."

Kurt covers his face and tries to leave, but Blaine holds him.

"No," he continues. "Kurt, promise me you won't give up on us. I won't. We'll do something. Promise me."

"How can I?" Kurt asks, so obviously breaking.

He needs something. Something to know Blaine means it, that they can do this. If only Blaine had finished the offering—

But he doesn't have the offering. He only has himself.

He spreads his wings, reaches back, and selects a sleek, perfect feather. Bracing himself, he tugs hard on the base of its shaft, parting it from his wing with a pained cry.

"Blaine—" Kurt gasps. Blaine just holds up the feather.

"Take this," he says. "It's not what I wanted to give you, but it's a part of me. I'll be with you, Kurt, no matter what. I'll wait for you. I know we can find a way."

Kurt reaches out and accepts the feather, smiling sadly at it, stroking its barbs lovingly.

"Thank you," he says, his voice gravelly and quickly fading into more tears. But he pulls one of his braids forward, and threads the quill into it tightly, using some of the dark twine at the end of the braid to secure it. And then he looks up at Blaine, lip trembling, feather brushing his chest, perfectly in place.

"Kurt—"

Kurt reaches up around his neck and removes one of his necklaces—a delicate chain, its tiny links apparently carved from pale blue sea-glass, with a single piece of coral carved like lace in the center. He rises up, and slips it around Blaine's neck, placing the piece of coral right in the center of his chest. He kisses above it, just over Blaine's heart, and then pulls away.

"I love you," Kurt manages, through his sudden heaving sobs, and then he flips down and is gone beneath the cursed water.

"No!" Blaine screams, his voice echoing around the cave. "Kurt, no! Come back.Come back!"

He almost jumps in the water after him. He almost does it. But he'd die, and he can't have Kurt's last memory of him be—

No. Kurt's last memory of him will be painful enough.

But he can't—hecan'tlet it be Kurt's final memory of him.

But he doesn't know what else he can do.

He folds up, hugging his knees to his chest, and curls into a ball, crying hard into his arms. He doesn't feel the scrape of the rocks on his feet, or the pain in his wing from where he plucked the feather. He doesn't feel the light spray of water of his feet, or the echoing drip off the walls around him.

He just feels the cold coming off the sea, seeping into him, bone-deep.