When Kurt flew into the court, it took everything Blaine had not to lose himself in staring at Kurt with a fond smile—he was flustered, obviously, and hastily dressed, but nobody commented, because Sam flew in almost immediately after in a similar state of disorder, obviously late waking up. He gave Kurt a look of fellow-feeling, which Kurt returned after only an instant of hesitation.

Thankfully, the charade wouldn’t have to last much longer.

All he had to do was walk to the head of the room to reveal himself. He wasn’t wearing his hood—he couldn’t hide behind anything now. And he was terrified, yes, but these people had stuck by him when he was at his worst. And now that he was steadily becoming what he hoped would be his best, they deserved the truth.

The first step to his freedom, and all he had to do was take one step.

Blaine walked out from where he’d been standing by the stairs, mostly hidden in the half-light of the court, which was waiting on several materials before the workers started on it. It was still in disrepair, dirty and broken and neglected. But not anymore.

He heard several gasps as he approached the group gathered at the head of the room, but he ignored them, walking forward with his shoulders back and his head high. Maybe it should’ve been the smiles on most of their faces that kept him walking forward. Maybe it should’ve been something as simple as a lack of terrified screams. But what really kept him moving forward, without a question, was the pride and love in Kurt’s eyes as he tearfully watched Blaine approaching, his face bare for the world to see.

Eleven people, everyone but Beiste, who was probably busy readying the practice field for his visit later. Eleven people, only three of which had seen his face since he hid it seven years ago. And not a single one of them looked disgusted or scared.

They all bowed as he paused before them.

“Your majesty,” Mike said, as though this were a daily occurrence, “we are here, as requested.”

“Thank you, Mike,” he replied, standing as tall and firm as he could manage when all he felt like doing was falling to their feet in gratitude. Instead, he looked around at them with a faint smile.

“I have called you all here because you have remained with me these long years,” he began, and was pleased that his voice remained steady despite the emotion building in his chest. “Not a single one of you abandoned me in my time of need, and I thank you for your loyalty.”

He looked around pointedly at the wrecked splendor of the room around them before turning back.

 “This court is not the only thing I let fall,” he continued. “While you held steadfast in your allegiance, I did not. I abandoned a kingdom that needed me. And it is unforgiveable. But I intend to remedy the situation as soon as possible. You’ve all seen the workers about the castle, and you’ve heard the rumors—I do intend to resume court on the day of my twenty-first birthday. Less than three weeks away, now. I will need your help now more than ever.

“You are more than my servants. You, above all others, are my friends, and I intend to show all of you my thanks in times to come. But now, we have work to do, for while I have vowed to right my wrongs, not everyone is as faithful as you have been. Will you join me in renewing that which was left to die?”

Blaine held back tears as each one of them, in a wave of sound, called, “Ay!”

“Thank you,” he said. “It will not be easy. Sebastian may still mean to attack, and I do not want to see any of you harmed. Starting tomorrow, I want each of you to make time to visit Armsmaster Beiste for training. If I could, I would be by each of your sides should the need arise, but since I can’t I want every one of you to be safe in any way you can. So please, make sure you can defend yourself when I cannot.

“Kurt,” he called, turning to Kurt and fighting off a smile at his lover’s look of surprise. “Would you be so kind as to go to the practice fields and inform Armsmaster Beiste that I am on my way to discuss this myself?”

Kurt looked around suspiciously for only a moment before bowing low with a quick, “Yes, majesty,” before striding out to do as he was bid. Blaine smiled after him before returning his attention to his servants.

“I need your help in one other matter,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve been suspicious of my favor to Master Hummel since he’s been here—“

“No, your majesty!” Puck called, and a few people turned to stare at him in shock for interrupting the Prince, but Puck didn’t look the least bit phased. “We all know you two are fucking.”

Pretty much everyone reacted, mouths falling open and gasping being the general idea, with Santana snickering behind her hand. Once everyone gathered themselves, however, they looked to Blaine fearfully, as though expecting him to have an outburst.

Fortunately, Kurt had done much to ease his temper, and he knew Puck hadn’t meant it insultingly. He took a deep breath and said, “I’m afraid it’s a bit more than that, Puck. I’m afraid my love for him is to the extent that I will be refusing all who wish to marry me, regardless of their offers or station. In fact, I plan to ask Kurt for a formal union very soon.”

The silence in the court echoed louder than any outcry could have, and Blaine pushed through the fear of having taken a wrong turn.

“I’m sure you all know that it is due to Kurt that this…rejuvenation is even happening,” he said. “He has breathed life into me where before I was fading into nothing. I would have gladly allowed Sebastian to take the kingdom, and for that I must express the deepest shame and regret. But Kurt let me see the truth, and the strength within myself.

“So please, if not for me, then for him—help us keep our secret. I will be able to face the trouble that comes of not taking a wife, but should the world find out that I have taken one of my servants as a husband, I cannot say what will happen—perhaps, in time, it will not be a matter for concern, since there is precedent for royalty marrying commoners. But right now, with my power in such a precarious position, it's not wise to make this public knowledge. So will you all do me this favor, and keep our relationship from the ears of the workers and, later, from the court?”

Again, they all called out in the affirmative, and Blaine hung his head. “Thank you all.”

When he looked up, Tina was holding a hand up, looking at him pleadingly.

“Your majesty, may I speak?”

“Yes, Tina,” he answered, for which he received a grateful smile from Mike.

“You said you wish to ask Kurt for a union,” she said, “and I was wondering…would you like our help with that as well?”

Blaine turned to look at Mike first, and from his knowing smile, Tina had spoken to him about this ahead of time. He turned back to the rest of them.

“If you are willing, then yes, your help is most welcome,” he said. “Here is my plan—“

When Kurt arrived at the practice fields, Beiste came barreling out of the low stone building right against the outer walls of the grounds and held her arms wide as though she were going to gather him up in a hug. Eyeing her strong arms and her exuberance, Kurt made a quick move to preserve his ribs and stopped to give her a bow.

“His majesty has sent me to deliver a message,” Kurt said, standing straight again and smiling at the Armsmaster where she stood, obviously a little disappointed in having been denied a cracking embrace.

“Another one?” she asked in her gruff voice. “What’s my little Prince wantin’ this time?”

“He wanted me to let you know that he is on his way to discuss the training of his household.”

“He’s on his way right now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so!” Beiste cried, reaching out and grabbing Kurt’s shoulders, guiding him toward the building. “We have things that need to be readied for him!”

“But he didn’t say he was coming to—“

“Sure he did,” Beiste interrupted, slapping Kurt’s back with one large hand and almost sending him sprawling through the door. He straightened up from his stumble and walked in before Beiste could send him completely onto his ass.

The inside of the building smelled mostly of sweat. There were several stands of armor, stacks of what looked like padded waistcoats and breeches, a few weapon stands, and a lot of benches. In the corner was a huge wooden basin with a spigot coming out of the wall, and Kurt approached it, hands wandering over the metal spout.

“That’s all rainwater up there,” Beiste said behind him. “Best thing the old king ever did, puttin’ that in. There’s a fire pit outside, heats up the reservoir and you got yourself a hot bath in about half the time a’ carryin’ in buckets and heatin’ ‘em on the fireplace, and it gets about as hot as a goat’s butt in a pepper patch. An’ it’s good for after you been out lickin’ those strawmen all day. Now, it ain’t nothin’ on the baths used to be in the royal apartments, but we don’t need high cotton around here.”

 “Of course,” Kurt said automatically, hoping he’d translated that spiel well enough to be able to reference it later if needed.

“Now, I been told you’re gonna be needin’ some trainin’ supplies,” she continued, heading over to the stacks of padding and patting them, sending up a cloud of what Kurt hoped was dust. “I reckon I got some what’ll fit ya.”

“Oh, I’m not—“

“Ah, Armsmaster, I see you’re getting Kurt all set for our training today.”

Kurt turned and saw Blaine ambling in, hands held behind his back and a self-satisfied smirk on his face that made Kurt particularly suspicious. Blaine smiled at him beautifully, and Kurt considered letting himself be fooled for only an instant before Blaine opened his mouth again.

“If you get us strapped up, I’ll let you ascertain his skill level and I’ll take over from there.”

“You think he’ll be fast enough for the rapier?” Beiste asked. “Rapier fightin’ takes an awful lot of skill.”

“I think you’ll know best,” Blaine replied, “but I think with some practice, he could become quite good at it. But we’ll start him with the broadsword and go from there.”

“Blaine?”

Kurt ignored the half-smile and approving nods Beiste gave him being so familiar with their Prince and stared Blaine down.

“I’m training today?”

Blaine smiled at him and then looked over to Beiste.

“Shannon, would you be so kind as to give a few moments?”

“Sure thing, majesty,” she said, and she headed to the far side of the room, by the basin, and slipped through a door into what Kurt assumed were her quarters.

“Why am I training?”

Kurt crossed his arms and tilted his head at Blaine, raising his eyebrows severely. Blaine sighed and stepped forward.

“I received some…intelligence. On Sebastian.”

Kurt felt himself paling, his blood draining from his face as though drawn by the cold knife sinking into his stomach. His knees trembled and suddenly the possibilities were flashing before his eyes—why would he need to train because of Sebastian? Had Sebastian found out where he was? Was Sebastian going to kill him, or take him?

“Kurt, no, he won’t touch you,” Blaine soothed, and Kurt realized that not only had he spoken out loud, but Blaine had rushed forward and was supporting him, one arm around his waist and one hand cupping his cheek, warm and rough and intimate.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt babbled, “I don’t know why he affects me like this. I just can’t decide if Sebastian taking me or killing me would be worse.”

“He won’t do either,” Blaine insisted firmly. “I won’t let Sebastian have you. No matter what, you will never have to cater to his whims, and you will never have to fear his wrath. He will never touch you.”

“How can you be sure? What did you hear about him?”

“He is still making plans to attack the castle,” Blaine said calmly, brushing a stray hair off Kurt’s forehead. “He doesn’t seem to care that I’m resuming my duties. He is coming anyway.”

Kurt felt like he could barely breathe, could barely stand, but Blaine was right there, holding him up and holding him together in his strong arms.

“I have the support of the other Lords,” he continued quietly, tilting their foreheads together, so close that Kurt could feel his breath on his own lips. “We will have enough troops by my birthday to prevent his coming. And I will take every precaution necessary to make sure that you are safe.”

“And that’s why I’m training.”

“Exactly. I want you to be able to defend yourself, though I will do everything in my power to make sure you won’t need to.”

“And what if Sebastian wins?” Kurt asked, his voice almost inaudible, barely able to breathe the words.

“I have made arrangements for you to have sanctuary with Lord Nicholas in Westerville,” Blaine said, his eyes closing, the sight of his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks taking up Kurt’s entire field of vision. “And Puck is heading to Lima today, to guard over your family. Everything is taken care of.”

“No it’s not,” Kurt snapped, suddenly strong as he pulled his head back and looked Blaine right in the eyes. “What about you?”

Kurt’s heart gave a little lurch when Blaine actually looked surprised at his question. Kurt held Blaine’s face in both his hands and kissed him deeply.

“I am grateful for the thought you’ve put into protecting me and my family,” Kurt whispered, “but what about protecting yourself, Blaine? You’re the most important person in my life.”

Blaine smiled at him, his eyes wide and shining.

“I will do everything in my power to stay alive, Kurt—“

“—and what if that means giving up the kingdom?”

Blaine rocked back as though Kurt had hit him.

“Are you asking me to—“

“Never,” Kurt amends quickly. “You know how much I believe that you should be on the throne. But I meant…would you let Sebastian kill you out of some misplaced honor? Or if it came to it…would you run with me? Disappear until we can fight back and get rid of that rodent for good?”

Blaine nodded, smiling and kissing Kurt quickly.

“If it meant being able to come back another day…yes,” he said, “I would run with you. I had determined to fight Sebastian to the death should he come—but if it seems I cannot win, it would be better to abandon pride and still have hope for the future than to die and leave Sebastian as the only legitimate heir.”

“Promise me,” Kurt demanded softly.

Blaine stepped back, grasping Kurt’s hands and bringing the up to his lips, kissing them.

“I promise that if I cannot win, I will run with you. But may I demonstrate to you that you needn’t worry so much?”

Kurt sighed and nodded.

“Do I have to put on the dusty old padding?”

Blaine laughed. “Yes, you do. I don’t want you to actually get hurt. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if we were both bruised by the end of the day.”

He released Kurt’s hands and stepped back, turning to the door that Beiste had disappeared through and calling, “Armsmaster!”

She appeared through the door a moment later, her eyes red and wet.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick, “but this wall’s thinner than the hair on a shaved boar, and I couldn’t help but overhear. Forgive me.”

“No matter,” Blaine said easily. “Would you be so kind as to get the training yard ready? I’ll get Kurt fitted in some armor and we’ll be out momentarily.”

“Of course, majesty,” Beiste replied. “I’ll just grab the practice swords.”

She did so and ambled out the door into the dusty practice yard eagerly. Blaine turned to Kurt and smiled.

“Now let’s get you strapped in.”

“You’re lucky I’m not wearing anything important,” Kurt grumbled, tugging at his simple shirt and following Blaine to the stacks.

The practice armor was stiff and uncomfortable with plenty of padding, and it had a questionable smell, but Kurt let Blaine lace it onto him with a faint blush, worried every moment that Beiste would come back in and see Blaine fondling him inappropriately as he worked. By the time he was standing stiffly in the armor as he helped Blaine tie his on, he was fighting off his body’s desire to harden in his breeches.

“Shall we go out?” Blaine asked casually when he was finished, gesturing for Kurt to go ahead of him.

The practice yard was a dusty expanse of trampled ground, spurts of grass growing here and there since it probably hadn’t been visited so much in the past couple of years. It was fenced, with straw effigies planted on posts along one side, holes from arrows evident in the rough cloth covering them, with more thick, beaten wooden posts nearby, ostensibly for practicing sword maneuvers from all the cuts and dents in them.

Beiste was hovering by the posts, three wooden practice swords stuck in the ground next to her. When they came out, she nodded to Kurt.

“Okay, what sorta things you done before?”

Kurt tilted his head and grimaced a bit.

“Why don’t we just try some things out?” Blaine suggested. Kurt didn’t stop grimacing.

Two hours later they were both sweaty and grimy. They tried swords first, Blaine demonstrating his skill with his rapier against Beiste before they all switched to a simpler sword to handle. Kurt ended up being unwieldy with the broadsword, but the moment a knife was put in his hand, he excelled, landing several blows on both Blaine and Beiste, leaving bruises wherever he struck. He was also apt at grappling, being broad and tall enough to best someone like Blaine but quick enough to evade someone like Beiste. Against someone like Sebastian, it might not work, as Sebastian not only had the longer reach and height advantage, but was also thin and whip-quick. But he could manage in a pinch.

“We’ll make time to come back here as often as possible,” Blaine said, wiping sweat from his brow as Beiste gathered up the wooden practice weaponry and lugged them back into the building. “We’ll focus on the knife for you—you’ve got a natural talent with it.”

Kurt began untying his padding, feeling uncomfortably hot in it, as he said, “As long as I can use that bath to wash off this grime.”

He didn’t notice the darkening of Blaine’s eyes as the Prince started removed his own armor and gathered it up, along with Kurt’s.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’ll just put these back. Wait here.”

Kurt pulled his shirt away from his skin, grimacing as it clung to him, dark and heavy with sweat. He’d have to ask Beiste if he could have the privacy to use that bath, and maybe have Blaine join him...

“Welp,” Beiste called, striding out through the door, “if you want to wash that filth off of ya, I got the fire pit out back heatin’ up the cistern, all you gotta do is unplug the pipe and you got hot water. Now, I got a rumblin’ in my gut and Emma makes a right fine remedy to that, so I’ll be goin’ now.”

“O-okay,” Kurt stammered, watching as Beiste left unceremoniously, ignoring his attempt to speak. He stared after her, head cocked as he wondered what that was about.

And then warm arms slipped around his waist and a pair of moist lisps brushed the back of his neck. Oh.

“Did you just send Beiste away?” he asked wryly, a half-smirk breaking onto his face as he turned to look at Blaine.

“Mmm, maybe.”

Kurt bit back a laugh as Blaine continued to tease the back of his neck. Well, two could play that game.

“So we have full days, now,” Kurt commented airily, threading his fingers together with Blaine’s over his stomach. “Roses to tend, garments to sew, workers to oversee, songs to write, minstrels to train…I don’t see that we have any spare time in our days, now. I suppose we’ll have to start waiting until we can make use of our nights.”

Blaine nuzzled his ear and chuckled darkly, whispering, “Then I’ll have to bathe by myself?”

Kurt shrugged faintly. “Well, that basin is hardly big enough for two—“

“Then we’ll just have to make use of all this free space.”

With that, Blaine bit down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Kurt gasped and arched his back, the pain radiating into a wash of pleasure over his body.

“Again,” he breathed, air gusting from his lungs as his entire body trembled.

Blaine spun him around and kissed him hard before sucking Kurt’s bottom lip into his mouth and nipping at it, drawing harsh, quick breaths from Kurt.

“Why does that feel so good?” he asked, pulling Blaine into another bruising kiss before he could form an answer.

Suddenly, they were scrabbling at each other’s clothes, ripping at lacings and fumbling at belt buckles as they tumbled to the ground in a tangled heap. Blaine’s shirt came off readily, but when Kurt’s refused to cooperate, Blaine grasped the hem and pulled, tearing it apart with his bare hands.

“Gods, Blaine,” Kurt whined as Blaine tore the remnants of the shirt off his shoulders and attacked his bared skin, biting and sucking marks into the pale flesh.

They writhed together for several minutes, reveling in the slide of sweaty skin contrasting against the gritty sensation of the dirt as they rolled around, kissing and groping and nipping at each other wherever they could reach.

“Blaine,” Kurt whimpered, “we have to—to be careful—anyone could see—“

“Then we’d better hurry,” Blaine rasped.

But he made no move to change what they were doing. He pinned Kurt down and licked the sweat from his collarbones, moving away from Kurt when he lifted his hips to seek friction for his aching cock.

“Fine,” Kurt spat, reaching down into his breeches and taking himself in hand.

“Oh gods, Kurt.”

Blaine stopped and frantically reached down, pulling at the strings holding Kurt’s pants closed and peeling them away, exposing his erection to the cool air.

Kurt adjusted his grip to feel more natural and began to stroke, pulling away to lick his palm quickly when the drag was too much. When he returned, the glide was easier, slicker, but Blaine quickly knocked his hand away, taking over with his own hand.

“You too,” Kurt said, bringing his freed hands down to Blaine’s breeches. He unlaced them deftly, pulling the v of them apart and down, pushing the leather down to Blaine’s thighs. He stared at what was revealed, drawing his fingers across the sharp cut of his hips, down to the dark thatch of hair at the base of Blaine’s cock, gloriously thick and veined and familiarly flushed. He drew a finger up its length, stroking the velvet skin of the head and watching with fascination as a pearly droplet leaked from the slit.

He reached down again and grabbed Blaine’s flushed length, savoring the weight of it in his hand. Blaine gasped again, groaning, “More.”

They continued quickly stroking each other, gripping tighter and rocking harder as they chased release together, panting heavily between their sweating bodies.

“Come here,” Kurt whispered, right on the edge and desperate for contact. Blaine released him and lowered himself, sliding their cocks together and rocking his hips, moaning. Kurt grabbed them both in hand and held them together, bucking up as Blaine thrust forward, the slide tight in his fist.

“That’s—that’s perfect, just like that, yes,” Blaine babbled, his body tensing for one glorious moment before he cried out and came, thick white ropes striping on Kurt’s stomach. Kurt shuddered and opened his mouth in a soundless cry as he followed moments later, spilling over his hand and stomach and Blaine’s softening cock.

They lay together catching their breath for a brief time before remembering themselves and where they were, scrambling to gather their clothes and rushing into the building, giggling like children as they stumbled into one another, unsteady on their feet.

“What if someone had seen?” Kurt blurted, laughing behind his hand as they stripped properly and laid their clothes out on one of the benches. “Though even if they didn’t they’ll probably realize when I walk back in this shirt.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Blaine said, not sounding apologetic in the least. “You can wear mine and I’ll just wear my jerkin bare.”

“It’ll chafe,” Kurt warned.

“It’s only a short distance,” Blaine replied. “And you can kiss it better later.”

And as simple as that, Blaine drew Kurt to the bath.

“Now relax with me before we go back. Let me soothe those aching muscles of yours.”

Kurt kissed him, a little too dirty to be sweet.

“I somehow think I’ll be sore anyway,” he teased, and Blaine agreed.