Kurt gasped as Sebastian crowded him away from the door, pushing him back into the house by his mere presence.

“Are you happy to see me?” Sebastian asked, smirking, and Kurt went cold. Behind him, several guards, including Jon, were holding back Puck and the other guard that usually stood post.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, my time has come,” Sebastian said, and Kurt could go no further back—he’d hit a wall, and Sebastian was right in front of him. “I and my soldiers are on our way to Dalton.”

“But—but you can’t,” Kurt blurted. “Blaine is opening court, he’ll be ready in a week—“

“No he won’t,” Sebastian said. “I’m going to kill him. I’ll open court myself and give the Lords a public execution. Do you think that’ll send the message that I’m not playing games?”

“No!” Kurt cried, surging forward without any plan of what he was going to do, but Sebastian slammed him back into the wall, his hands grasping Kurt’s hips firmly.

“You’ll get a front row seat, beautiful,” Sebastian growled, his breath seeping hot over Kurt’s face. Kurt turned to the side and closed his eyes, trying to escape it, but Sebastian was all around him. “I knew you weren’t here this whole time. I knew the moment I heard about the Prince’s pretty new bed warmer. And don’t think I don’t know that that was what you were—my cousin hiring a court minstrel before he even wanted to have a court? It’s laughable how transparent he is.”

Sebastian leaned in further and Kurt felt his nose brush against his hairline, breathing in deeply.

“Did he fuck you well, little songbird?” Sebastian asked. “Did you open up for him, let him fuck that perky little ass? Did his fingers bruise you—“ he squeezed Kurt’s hips hard, and Kurt cried out “—as he slammed into that hot, tight hole? Because I was looking forward to being the only one to have done that, and I’m…perturbed that he took what was mine.”

He pressed entirely against Kurt, and Kurt heard a gasp from Carole, who was being barred from entering further down the house. He felt Sebastian hard against his hip, and he squirmed, trying to get away with a whimper.

“I’ll make sure I take it back,” Sebastian said. “I’ll pound that body of yours until you forget Blaine ever existed. And then I’ll make you watch him die. I promise I’ll at least make it quick—after all, he did an awful lot of work for me. But then you’ll spend the rest of your days chained to my bedpost.”

Kurt cried out again and Sebastian backhanded him hard across the face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“But until then,” he said, “you and your family will be locked here. I can’t have you sneaking away when we’re on the march and telling the Prince my plans. And I can’t have you around…distracting me. When this is all done, though, I’ll make up for all our lost time.”

Sebastian turned and headed toward the door, but at the last second he paused and glanced back.

“Give him his letters,” he said, and Jon immediately stepped toward Kurt. “Let him have a last taste of his precious little Prince.”

With that, he was gone, and suddenly a small stack of letters ended up in Kurt’s lap.

“You were one of his?” Kurt asked, staring up at Jon bitterly. He’d trusted him. Blaine had trusted him; he had sworn an oath when he came to the castle. But he’d been sent by Sebastian—there was no other explanation.

Jon didn’t speak. He simply turned around and started barking orders, setting up guards at different points outside the house. Carole looked over at Kurt with tears, shaking her head and covering her mouth.

“It’ll be all right,” he said, cupping his cheek. He’d have a bruise there, as well as on his hips, but he couldn’t let it get truly beneath his skin. “Check on Dad, keep him calm. We’ll figure something out.”

Kurt only hoped he was right.

Between taking stock of the situation and discussing the problem with Carole and Burt, Kurt didn’t get a chance to read his letters until later into the night. Each one broke his heart, pieces echoing through him as though he could hear Blaine’s voice speaking them in his ear. 

…miss you every day, it’s like I turn the corner and expect to see you waiting for me…

…not the same. I find myself struggling with my responsibilities…

…feel trapped in this hood, and my courage is failing me…

…please tell me you’re okay. I long to hear from you, or see you again…

…please, Kurt, please let me know if you are there, if you still…

…love you with all that I am, and hope that you will return to me, just…

…I wish I could leave and come see you myself. Every moment aches…

Kurt felt tears streaming down his face as he read and read and read. Two letters for each day they’d been apart, each more desperate and sad than the last. Blaine had believed him to be indifferent, from his tone, begging for some sign that Kurt was still his and sending affirmations of his own love, but he must have never gotten Kurt’s letters either. Kurt’s heart broke, imagining Blaine at the castle, locked in his study with his hood up again; cold and closed and alone, just like he used to be…

Kurt couldn’t let Sebastian win. But he couldn’t figure out a way out.

There were guards on every corner of the house and at the doors. If he tried to run, he’d be caught. If he jumped out a window, he’d be caught. And he didn’t have time to dig his way out, and he couldn’t come up with a plan…

He wandered out of his room, intending to scope out what the situation was outside, when he heard it.

“But you have to let me in, I’m due to audition for the court minstrel!”

Kurt slid himself against the wall, peeking around the door to the front of the house, listening intently. That was Rachel’s voice, unmistakably.

“No one is allowed in, miss—“

“No, I’m certain I am,” Rachel was saying. “You see, I’m a performer, and I know that the Prince sent his minstrel down to listen to me to determine if my services are needed at court, which of course they are, and I believe if you check with him you’ll learn that I have an appointment, and I will not be kept waiting much longer—“

“Kurt!”

Kurt whipped his head around, and he saw his window opened, Finn’s face smiling at him from outside.

“Come on, you’ve gotta go!”

Kurt stammered for a moment, completely baffled, but instinct carried him forward.

“Finn, what’s—“

“Shh!” Finn hushed, his tone much louder than Kurt’s had been. “Come on, jump out. I’ll explain when we go, but you’ve gotta get out here before they come back.”

Kurt immediately climbed out the window, squeezing himself through the small space as best he could—and he’d have to check himself for bruises later, because it had been too tight of a fit in a few spots, namely around his shoulders. He jumped down shakily, and immediately Finn slapped his back and nudged him forward, running away toward the back of the house and, beyond, fields that were thick with growing crops. If they could reach that, they could get lost in it and make it to the woods.

He heard shouts in the distance, and he felt like any moment he could feel a sword in his back. He picked up speed, glad that Finn was keeping up with his long stride to make up for being heavier on his feet than Kurt. But no matter how fast they ran, it felt like the crop field was getting further and further from them instead of closer, and Kurt fought off the urge to turn back—that would be fatal.

It was almost sudden, the way they burst into the field. One moment they were loping through the grass, and the next they were bolting through the still-green stalks, Finn hunching down so that he wasn’t as visible above the tops. They flew through as fast as they could, the supple plants whipping around them, slapping their arms and faces as they pushed through.

Everything went quiet. Kurt started to slow, reaching out and grabbing Finn’s sleeve.

“Stop,” he whispered, holding a finger to his lips. They’d have to slip away from the path they’d left in their blundering flight, just in case they were being tracked. He crouched down, waving at Finn to do the same, and pulled at his brother, guiding him off at a sharp angle from their previous path.

They continued for several minutes, going as quickly as they could without rustling the crops too much, taking several turns to throw off their direction before finally settling down, still and silent, to listen.

“I don’t think they’re after us,” Finn said.

“We have to be careful,” Kurt protested as quietly as he could. “You heard them come after us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What?”

“Why do you think they’re coming after us? They weren’t inside, were they?”

Kurt glared at Finn.

“You heard them shouting!”

“Oh!” Finn said. “No, I looked back when we were running. They were yelling at Rachel, I think. No one came around the house by the time we hit the field. And unless they go inside, they won’t know you’re gone until…um…until they go inside.”

Kurt huffed and stood up, peering around until he got his bearings. They were in roughly the middle of the field, just off to the western side, closest to the woods, and the house was apparently calm from what he could see at the distance. He puts his hands on his hips and glared down at Finn.

“You’re telling me we just ran around trying to throw off their trail for no reason?”

“Well…yeah.”

“Finn!” he almost shrieked, only caution keeping his voice at a harsh almost-whisper. “We do not have time for this! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know, you just dragged me along, I figured you had a plan!”

“I did, but—no, nevermind.” Kurt rubbed his eyes. “Look, I have to get to the castle and see what I can do.”

“But…what can you do?” Finn asked. “I mean, I figured I’d get you out because you’re the reason they were there, right? And when they discover you’re gone, you’ll be far away and then no one else will be trapped. And…I guess I wanted to see if you would go to Westerville. Puck said something about you going there if something went wrong. Prince’s orders, I guess.”

Kurt shook his head, trying to catch up.

“Wait, what? This is…part of an actual plan?”

“Almost?” Finn said uncertainly. “I mean, the part with Rachel just happened, she just took over and told me to go get you when she started getting loud…well, louder. But yeah, Puck told everyone that when you got here that if something happened, we had to get you to Westerville. I guess someone there will take care of you.”

Kurt sighed deeply. Blaine had been careful, and made sure he could be safe no matter what. But had he done the same for himself?

Did he have any idea Sebastian had been on his way? He’d be there by now…

…Was Blaine already defeated? Or was he fighting?

Kurt had to go to him.

“I’m not going to Westerville,” Kurt said. “I’m going to Dalton. I’m going to see if Blaine is safe, and if he’s not, I’m getting him out with me.”

“Kurt, you can’t do anything,” Finn protested. “Leave it to the soldiers.”

“What soldiers?”

“Westerville soldiers.”

Kurt almost screamed in frustration.

“Finn, just…explain. Try not to leave anything out this time.”

“We got one of the villagers to take a horse and run to Westerville,” he said. “Jacob is supposed to push the horse till it drops, and he left as soon as Sebastian did, so unless Sebastian killed him when he ran by the army, he’ll probably be there by now. So…Lord Nicholas should have the message and should be sending his soldiers to help Dalton as soon as he can. Unless Jacob’s dead. Then we’ll have to send someone else.”

“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do,” Kurt said. “You’re going to sneak back to town and send three more people to Westerville. I don’t care how you get the horses, but send them off as fast as you can, make sure Lord Nicholas knows everything. I’m going to sneak into town and steal a horse for myself, and then I’m going to Dalton to get Blaine.”

“But what if—“

“No!” Kurt interrupted. “I’m going. Go send the messages, make sure Rachel didn’t get hurt by the soldiers. And…I’ll see you soon. I’ll have Blaine send for you and Carole and my father when court opens.”

“But—“

“Just do it, Finn.” Kurt turned away, toward town. “I’ll see you soon.”

Stealing a horse was much easier than it should have been. Kurt ran as fast and as quietly as he could around the edge of town, slipping between buildings and making sure to keep an eye out, but no one was wandering about at that hour. He slipped to the back of the bakery, where he knew the baker kept his horse and cart for retrieving supplies, and simply slipped the horse from her stall, leading the tame beast out with scarcely a sound. 

He mounted and checked what he had on him—his clothes, and his silver knife. That was it. And he was increasingly worried about how much time he had left. Any moment he stalled could be a moment that Blaine needed help.

It would have to do.

He didn’t sneak around. He didn’t wait. It was already past midnight and he had no time to waste. He spurred the horse forward and took off toward the castle.