Kurt woke when his mind registered the emptiness around him. No one in his room. No one in his arms. That was usually the reason why Kurt woke when the prince left him - because the emptiness was too much to bear. Kurt felt the chill in the air climb beneath his skin, even though his blanket had been pulled up to his shoulders and tucked around him.

Kurt sucked in a cold and shuddering breath.

He hated waking up alone.

The emptiness, the silence, and the cold twisted together made it difficult for Kurt to breathe.

He heard the horses in their stalls, snuffling in their sleep or stamping down the hay on the dirt floor with their hooves as they turned in their stalls. Beyond the sounds of the horses and the normal ambient noises of the night – crickets, owls, mice, and the like - Kurt caught a strange murmuring coming from outside. It sounded like hushed voices, which wasn’t unusual, even for this Godforsaken hour of the sunless morning, but the voices sounded familiar.

They captured his attention, and he lay completely still, straining to hear them.

“What in the holy heavens above are you wearing, Sire?” an amused but tired voice chuckled.

“Shut up, Sebastian,” a different voice bit in response. Kurt’s ears pricked up immediately upon hearing it. It was a voice Kurt would recognize anywhere, and knowing its owner had tarried longer made Kurt smile. “You have seen me like this many times.”

“Yes,” the guard’s voice chortled around a lengthy yawn, “yes, I have, Your Highness, and yet it baffles me every time.”

A weary sigh accompanied by a pause in the conversation made Kurt lift his head to better hear, bracing himself for whatever might come next.

It wasn’t exactly what Kurt expected.

“Look,” Sebastian began, “you are my prince, and I have pledged my loyalty to you … but you are also my friend. My dearest, oldest friend. I know all of your secrets, and believe me …” He chuckled loudly “… there are quite a few.” The prince scoffed but Sebastian continued. “I may not understand this one, but I will defend it, from whomever I must.”

It warmed Kurt’s heart to hear such a sincere sentiment from this man – a man that Kurt knew Blaine held in the highest esteem, with the fondness of a brother. Kurt had had such a friendship once, with his stepbrother. Kurt hadn’t seen Finn since he had entered the service of the king, and he missed him every day.

“I appreciate that, my friend,” Blaine said. The sound of rustling followed, of cloth against cloth, as if the two men were hugging.

“Are we to away back to the palace, Your Highness?” Sebastian asked. “It’s a might bit early yet.” He sounded hopeful, though he would never say so to the prince’s face.

“Not just yet,” Blaine replied. Kurt noted that at least the prince sounded apologetic on the matter. “There is something I must do, and I am afraid that I will need your help to do it. But after, you have my leave to go. You must be exhausted.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Sebastian said, “my place is where you are. I will help you with your task, then I will stay until you decide to leave, and not a moment before.”

Kurt bit his lower lip hard. The poor man. Kurt and Blaine had gotten a few hours’ sleep, but Sebastian had been on his feet all night, guarding his prince, protecting their secret, making sure that they could have this time together without being disturbed. Kurt wished there was something he could do for Sebastian, but he was far from being in a position to do so.

There was no more talk that Kurt could hear from the men outside, but moments later, a loud banging against the walls of the stable jarred the horses into neighing anxiously and nearly stopped Kurt’s heart.

“A little more … urgh … to the left … mmph … Your Highness,” Sebastian grunted. There came a terrible crash and Sebastian groaned. “Your otherleft, Sire.”

“Please be … nrgh … more plain … grrr … with your directions next time,” Blaine snapped. Kurt wanted to laugh, especially when he heard a dull thud and Blaine hiss with pain. Kurt bit down hard on his blanket to keep from snickering and pretended to sleep as the two men struggled to carry his large tub in.

“Okay … nngh … set it in the middle … grrrn … right there,” Blaine commanded. Both men grumbled in distress. There was a sudden cry of no! and then the tub dropped, the small room echoing with the sound. Kurt finally broke and a chuckle slipped past his lips.

“I’ll go fetch the water, Your Highness,” Sebastian volunteered quickly, bowing slightly to Blaine and nodding to Kurt before he turned on his heel and left the stable.

Kurt watched Blaine grab a cloth from the wall and start wiping out the tub using water from Kurt’s basin by his bed. It confounded Kurt on many an occasion how a man like Blaine could be such a natural submissive. Even when he knew his captain of the guard would soon return with water for Kurt’s bath, knowing the man might catch him acting like a slave, cleaning out Kurt’s tub, he did it anyway, and he did it to please Kurt.

Kurt, the stable hand.

Kurt, the rustic.

Kurt, with no title or noble blood.

But Kurt was Blaine’s Dom, and the man that he loved. In light of that, cleaning out his tub seemed like such an insignificant task.

When Sebastian returned with the buckets of water, heated at the smithy’s fire close by, he did not see Blaine cleaning Kurt’s tub, but setting his table, getting Kurt’s breakfast ready for him. Sebastian poured the water into the tub with a careful eye on the two, watching how his prince waited on the stable hand like a common servant. When the tub was filled, he went to Blaine and handed him something hidden in his jacket, something wrapped in a rough cloth. He whispered low in the prince’s ear so that not a word did Kurt hear. Blaine took the offering with a frown and set it on the table, keeping it wrapped and pushing it aside with disdain. Blaine eyed Kurt rising from the bed with an eyebrow cocked, but he mentioned nothing about it.

“If it pleases Your Highness, I will return to my post until you have need of me,” Sebastian announced, watching the silent exchange between Dom and sub. It broke his heart seeing them together, knowing what he did of their combined fates. But their love also brought to mind all the things he had given up in his own life in pursuit of his career, to get to this position of authority.

He became uncomfortable in their presence, in this intimate atmosphere they created within the four walls of this meager room. He was eager to return outside and be away from it.

“It does,” Blaine said, suspecting his friend’s discomfort. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Sebastian bowed to his prince, then turned his attention to Kurt.

“Master Hummel,” he said with not a bow, but a slight incline of his head in Kurt’s direction. Kurt returned the gesture, then watched with interest as the guard left his presence. When Sebastian was clear of the stable, Blaine took a place at Kurt’s feet.

“Do you tell him to address me that way?” Kurt asked.

“I do not,” Blaine admitted.

“Then why does he?” Kurt put his feet on the cold floor, throwing the blanket off his naked body.

“I think it is because he knows how important you are to me. I treat you like Master here, so he does the same.”

“I appreciate it,” Kurt said, standing completely on his feet, “though I will not expect such treatment outside these walls.”

“It is best that you do not, but you will always have his protection” - Blaine took Kurt’s hand when Kurt offered it and stood to help Kurt into his tub of water - “as long as I …”

Kurt settled into the tub, sighing with eyes closed as he slipped down further into the water. Hot water was such a luxury, such a gift Kurt rarely had the time or the connections to acquire, so he vowed to take his time savoring it.

“As long as you what, Your Highness?” Kurt reached out a hand for Blaine to put a bar of soap and a cloth into. Instead, Blaine moved Kurt’s hand aside, dunking the cloth into the water and lathering it up with the soap.

“As long as I love you,” Blaine said quietly, rubbing the cloth in circles over Kurt’s chest, focusing on the content hum coming from his Master.

“And how long do you think that will be, Your Highness?”

“Quite a while.” Blaine’s hand stopped its work as the weight of the question – and its answer – hit him. “The rest of my life. Even if you leave me. Even if we are never to be together again …”

“Shhh, my poor darling …” Kurt took Blaine’s hand in his and held it. “This is very unlike you, Your Highness.” Kurt opened his eyes to see Blaine staring past him, at their hands linked together under the water.

“I apologize,” Blaine said, moving his hand out of Kurt’s grasp and continuing down his body, bringing the wash cloth to scrub over his abs, stopping just shy of his cock. “Is this better?”

“You are getting closer,” Kurt teased as his cock bobbed beneath the water with the promise of Blaine’s hand so near.

“You know, I never did get the chance to pay you back for last night.” Blaine bent down close to Kurt’s ear, his voice an alluring slide, as tangible on Kurt’s skin as his hand beneath the water.

“Mmm, tis true. And seeing as you seem to be able to stand, I guess that means you can kneel.”

“I would wager you are correct on that account.” Blaine moved the cloth further down Kurt’s body, purposefully avoiding his cock and heading toward his legs.

“So why don’t you finish me up and you can show me how well you kneel, hmm?” Kurt watched as the prince scrubbed his thighs, his calves, his ankles, down to the soles of his feet.

“As you wish.” Blaine’s hazel eyes glittered in the dim lantern light, not daring to match Kurt’s gaze. He traveled back up Kurt’s body with the soap and cloth, washing every inch of his Dom’s skin that he could reach, and Kurt sat up and leaned forward to aid him. Blaine rolled up the sleeves of Kurt’s shirt that he wore so as not to soak them and meticulously washed Kurt’s back and shoulders. When he was done, he rounded the tub and stood in his Dom’s view.

“May I wash your …?” Blaine’s eyes drifted away along with his words, gazing towards the water that obscured Kurt’s body and hid the prize Blaine longed to touch.

“So uncharacteristically shy today, Your Highness,” Kurt said, eyes smiling. “Well, seeing as you are going to have your mouth on it, I imagine that you would want to clean my cock.” Kurt’s words were bold, trying to lure his conceited sub out from hiding. Kurt itched to feel Blaine’s lips on his skin. He had endured an evening of feverish dreams about them together, praying for that moment to come, praying that they woke in time to have it.

Kurt’s eyes stayed on his prince as Blaine lathered up the washing cloth again and then reached underneath the water, taking hold of Kurt’s cock and stroking gently. Kurt bent his knees and opened his legs wide, sliding further down until his chin broke the surface of the water.

“Dear God,” Kurt moaned, hips bucking to meet Blaine’s fist on every downward stroke, “I could just let you do this. You’re so good at it.” The water lapped at the rim of the tub, threatening to spill over, with Kurt continuing to fuck up into Blaine’s fist. “You have perfect hands for this. Wonderful, strong hands.” Kurt watched Blaine’s eyes, glowing beneath his praise, but with his focus entirely on the task of giving his Dom pleasure. He would do this all day if Kurt asked him – if Blaine was able to escape his duties for one day. Blaine had always wanted to try, but he feared they’d be discovered. Visiting Kurt during the late night hours was one thing. Disappearing for a whole day was quite another.

Blaine stayed close to his Dom while he performed this act, hovering above Kurt’s chest so Kurt only needed to whisper his commands, but he was still too far for Kurt’s liking.

“Kiss me.” Kurt licked his lips when he saw Blaine’s eyes flick to his mouth without a second’s hesitation. Blaine leaned over Kurt and kissed him, sliding their mouths together without slowing the stroking of his hand. Kurt moaned deep in his throat until Blaine felt it in his mouth, tickling his tongue.

“Mmm, I need that mouth on me,” Kurt mumbled over Blaine’s lips. “This instant.”

Blaine didn’t want to stop touching his Master, especially when Kurt’s wet body shivered beneath his fist. But having his mouth on Kurt’s cock was one of his greatest joys - kneeling at Kurt’s feet, Kurt fucking his face, being used for his Master’s pleasure. It was the thing Blaine craved.

Kurt pushed Blaine aside and rose from the tub, putting a hand on the prince’s shoulder to keep himself steady. He stepped out and stood on the ground, skin dripping wet, glistening in the scarce light. Blaine openly stared. He couldn’t hide his regard. Even if someone had threatened to put out his eyes, he would still stare because Kurt’s naked body was positively hypnotizing - an incredible specimen of man. Kurt wasn’t just a singularly gorgeous human, but a strong, enticing creature, far beyond what the human mind could conceive.

And as far as Blaine knew, he was the only one who got the privilege of seeing Kurt like this.

If Blaine discovered that someone else had, it would destroy him.

Kurt caught Blaine staring and smirked at his open-mouthed awe, honored by how his prince devoured every inch of his body with eyes that didn’t attempt to hide their admiration of him. But this wasn’t the time for looking. The sun would rise before long and they would be parted, but this time not only for a day or a week.

Possibly for the rest of their lives.

Kurt grabbed Blaine by the hair and dragged him over to his bed. He didn’t bother with drying, simply dropping down to the edge of his mattress, bringing the prince to his knees. Blaine didn’t need to be told what to do. In this, he required no instruction. He knelt between Kurt’s legs and took his Dom’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him quickly and sucking back up hard. Kurt tasted clean like soap and salty with the flavor of his own cum leaking from the head in anticipation of Blaine’s heat and his tongue. Kurt didn’t let go of Blaine’s hair, tightening his hold when the prince didn’t move fast enough or holding hard to slow him down.

“Yes,” Kurt moaned, eventually bracing back on one elbow and moving along with Blaine as he had before, meeting Blaine’s mouth with every suck, shallowly at some points, at others pounding nearly all the way down the prince’s throat. Blaine took it – gagging around Kurt’s length, his eyes burning, watering, his lips stretched till he thought Kurt might unhinge his jaw. But being filled like this was Blaine’s paradise. This was where the submissive in him came to task. There was only one other way Blaine enjoyed being filled, and he hoped for that in the near future.

He would hope beyond hope, for as long as it took.

“Jesus …” Kurt groaned, lying back on the bed for Blaine to finish him off properly. “That’s it … faster … God, please …” Kurt urged his sub on, though by this time Blaine was doing little more than kneeling obediently while Kurt, hand locked in Blaine’s hair, fucked the prince for himself. “God, yes,” he chanted, plunging deep into the wet cavern of Blaine’s mouth. “Yes, yes, yes …” There was a long moment of silence when Kurt lost his voice completely and his body began to shudder. Blaine knew Kurt was close. He responded as he had been taught, grabbing hold of Kurt’s hips and gripping tight, taking Kurt as far down his throat as he was able and swallowing all he had to give. “Fuck …” Kurt whined, releasing his fist in Blaine’s hair as he fell back on the bed and let Blaine do his job, sucking Kurt through his orgasm.

Blaine swayed as he fought for breath, pulling off Kurt’s softening cock and kneeling low on the floor to recover. His cheeks were flushed, hot to the touch, his entire body shaking as if the orgasm that had racked Kurt’s body had been his own. He licked his lips to capture what was left of his Dom, and the taste of him almost made Blaine cry. This couldn’t be the end of it. He needed Kurt – he needed his dominance, needed his love, more than he needed to breathe.

It was in moments like this, lingering in the bliss of pleasing his Dom that Blaine could see himself being immensely happy here - not a prince, just a man, serving the man he adored.

“Was that … enough?” Blaine asked.

“More than enough, pet,” Kurt managed between heaving breaths. “The best yet, I think.”

Blaine nodded to himself. It would have to be, he thought. It would need to last.

“Shall I help you to dress?” Blaine asked. “Then I can get your breakfast?”

“No,” Kurt said. “We have not the time, and I would like to break bread with you. I will dress myself.” Kurt sat up and looked upon Blaine, still clothed in his own loose work shirt. “And you may want to do the same, Your Highness.” Kurt smiled, chuckling kindly, but it only seemed to sour Blaine, who felt the time they had together ticking away as if it were being chipped from his own bones.

But Blaine stood and did as he was told, dressing in all but his coat, relinquishing the shirt to Kurt who put it on – not because it was his cleanest, but because now it smelled like his prince, and he would need that to fortify him throughout the day.

Kurt approached the table, smiling in approval as a compliment to his sub’s work, and Blaine greeted him with the reviled cloth-wrapped bundle.

“Sebastian told me a young man brought this by this morning.” The prince opened the edges of the cloth to reveal a loaf of salt bread, scowling at it with a disgust that went far beyond loathing, but which also touched on something close to jealousy. “Apparently, he was put out that he couldn’t gift it to you directly.”

“Yes, well, that would be Sam,” Kurt said, sounding just interested enough to keep the heat burning in Blaine’s eyes. “He’s the smithy’s son. We have breakfast together every midweek.”

“Only on the midweek?” Blaine asked, fiddling unnecessarily with the plates and the cutlery.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Kurt replied, with a warm, albeit condescending, smile. “Only on the midweek, before he heads off into town. He’s polite and he’s young. Neither traits are especially to my taste.”

Blaine nodded. He waited by his appointed chair, and sat only after Kurt sat. He watched Kurt take the bread and divide it, waving away the portion Kurt offered him. Kurt set the bread down on Blaine’s plate and took the prince’s hand.

“You know, you can dine with him whenever you’d like,” Blaine granted stiffly, slipping his hand from beneath Kurt’s as he reached for the butter and knife to dress Kurt’s slice of bread.

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand back. He drew it to his face and kissed his knuckles.

“I would rather dine with you,” Kurt said against Blaine’s skin. “I would rather eat with you and talk with you and lay with you over anyone. If I had my choice, that’s exactly what I would do for the remainder of my days, and if I cannot, I will stay here alone and imagine it so … Blaine …”

Kurt said the prince’s name in a tender whisper across Blaine’s flesh as he pressed gentle kisses upon his hand. The delicate touch reminded Blaine of the many times they had made love in this room. Kurt would light the small fireplace beforehand and the heat bathed their bodies, the firelight casting a golden glow over Kurt’s skin. They’d make love on the hard floor, laying several blankets down to cushion it. It wasn’t the most comfortable (they dared not use the bed as it was louder than anything, and they had already broken it once) but all that mattered was that they were together, wrapped in one another’s embrace, the slow push and pull of their bodies worshipping one another as if they had all the time in the world.

Blaine wondered if he should have chosen that over dominance last night, but he needed Kurt’s punishing to keep him sane.

Their morning meal together was quiet with hands held, a piece of dried meat shared, and the bread reluctantly eaten by both, but accursedly short, when a rustling in the doorway caught their attention.

“Your Highness?” Sebastian’s voice called from the entrance. “I apologize for the intrusion, but we need to get you back to the palace.”

“So soon?” Blaine muttered.

“I waited as long as I could, Sire. We shouldn’t risk a moment longer.”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand and sighed.

“You are right,” Blaine conceded, “as usual.”

That admission would normally earn Blaine a witty remark from his best friend and captain … but not this time. Not with the prince as somber as the grave.

Not when Sebastian could see Blaine’s heart dying.

Kurt stood from his place at the table and, with hands clasped, pulled Blaine to his feet. He retrieved Blaine’s coat from the hook and helped the prince on with it, forgoing the awful corset in consideration of the painful stripes that littered Blaine’s back. He tugged at the hem to straighten the wrinkles, then moved to the front to do up the fasteners.

“Here.” Blaine removed one of the medals from his lapel and pressed it into Kurt’s palm. “Keep this, will you? It’s my family crest. Wear it where you can feel it against your skin … and think of me?”

Kurt looked at the medal in his hand, glittering gold, such a stranger in his grasp. It was smaller than many of Blaine’s other medals, but it carried all that Kurt held dear – including a surname he would never bear.

“Always, Your Highness.” Kurt bent to lay a kiss to it, then folded his fingers over it. “Though, I do not need this to think of you.” Kurt chuckled hollowly. “I dare say I think of you every minute of every day.”

“But this means that you belong with me.” Blaine sounded young, sounded lost, sounded tired of his life. “And I belong to you, no matter what.”

Kurt nodded. “No matter what,” he repeated. “I will treasure it always, Your High---“

Blaine’s lips met his and stole the word before it could be completed. He needed to take it. The consequence of their lives was a burden Blaine could no longer bear. He didn’t come down to Kurt’s stables to be reminded that he was a prince. He came to remember that he was a man, a man in love, with too much duty and responsibility to properly acknowledge its existence.

“Your Highness?” Sebastian called again from the doorway. “We need to …”

“I’m coming,” Blaine interrupted, trying to regain his strength of command but finding his voice thin and cracked, like glass that had cooled without being fired long enough – brittle, with all the heat of something stronger, but failing, lacking substance.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Blaine whispered.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kurt replied.

Blaine looked to where their hands had joined together, and then back up with purpose to his Dom’s eyes.

“Come to the wedding?” Blaine asked. It was a request Kurt had never expected. He almost took a step back to get away from it.

“I … I cannot,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “Don’t ask me to do that. I beg you. Please.”

“Please, Kurt?” Blaine pressed as Kurt continued to shake the request away. “You are my strength. You are the only strength I have left.”

“That is not true.”

“It is truer than I would like it to be. Please,” Blaine pleaded. “I need you there. I … I cannot do this alone.”

Kurt didn’t look away from the prince’s eyes even though all he wanted to do was run and hide from them. He saw in Blaine’s face the boy he once was – the one who first came to Kurt, asking for his help. Blaine had been Kurt’s submissive before they had ever fallen in love. Kurt could not abandon his submissive any more than he could abandon his own heart, which Blaine held complete and utter ownership of.

“If you need me,” Kurt said with trembling lips and the start of tears in his eyes, “then I shall be there.”

Blaine nodded gratefully, wrapping his fingers over the hand that held the medal. He kissed the fingers of that hand, then the inside of Kurt’s wrist, then his cheek, then his lips, leaving behind a brand that burned Kurt like fire. Filled with an agony like daggers piercing his chest, one that overshadowed the wounds on his back by leaps and bounds, he backed away, departing Kurt’s stables the way he came, dressed like a prince, leaving his love behind and preparing to marry his princess.