Kurt sat warily watching Blaine as he paced the forest floor. He hadn’t said anything more since their argument, and Kurt wasn’t keen on agitating him anymore than he already was. Kurt could feel the turmoil roiling around inside of him as keenly as he felt his own. He didn’t want to further upset him but the sun had nearly finished setting and they should at the very least be thinking about shelter. Perhaps more pressingly they should be thinking about putting distance between them and Bale, but traveling at night was dangerous. Kurt would settle for finding decent shelter and striking out in the morning.

“Perhaps you should sit...” Kurt cleared his throat hesitantly, shifting awkwardly where he sat perched on a log.“Blaine we need to decide what our next step is.”

“Our?” Blaine paused in his pacing, casting an incredulous look at Kurt over his shoulder that Kurt found rather irritating. It wasn’t as if he was jumping over joy at the prospect of being stuck with a dragon either.

“Yes our.” Kurt replied crisply. “Or do you think that when I don’t show up at the pier tomorrow night your friends will just decide to forget all about me?”

Blaine cringed and looked away again, returning to his restless pacing.

“Look. The way I see it dragon, we need each other and-”

“Blaine.” Kurt blinked in confusion, taken back by the sudden interruption. Blaine scoffed at his expression and repeated himself. “Blaine. My name is Blaine. I’m well aware that I’m a dragon elfiling, and I don’t have to leech you to know how much you hate that. It seems you seek to remind me with every word.”

Kurt winced, unable to deny the truth of the accusation. He had no love for dragons of course but admittedly antagonizing Blaine wasn’t the best way to convince him to stick around. Gritting his teeth Kurt tried his best to apologize and look like he meant it.

“Alright. Blaine. How about this? You don’t call me elfling and accuse me of doing things you don’t even bother to explain, and I won’t call you dragon.” His foot tapped restlessly on the ground as he added. “We should attempt civility at least. We need each other Blaine.”

“No.” Blaine disagreed with a short laugh. “Kurt. You need me.”

“Which is fortunate for you.” Kurt didn’t bother trying to sound anything but irritated at the stubborn dragon now. Blaine was right, Kurt was in a really desperate spot and the feeling of desperation was something he hated more than anything. He would be damned before he allowed Blaine to think he had all the leverage. “Or am I mistaken in thinking you didn’t have some sort of plan beyond running from Wes?”

Kurt didn’t think himself a petty young man but it did give him a sense of satisfaction when Blaine had no immediate response. He’d been right. Blaine seemed the sort eager to act, and less eager to consider the larger picture. He’d walked into a known trap after all to retrieve a leather pouch for gods sake.

Kurt frowned thinking of the pouch in his bag, wondering what could have been so important to the dragon to send him back to the tavern to fetch it. Blaine didn’t give him much time to wonder about it.

“I admit, I had not thought beyond the immediate task of escaping.” Blaine admitted with a slight flush rising to his cheeks. Kurt could feel his embarrassment as well as a hint of something bitter rising in him, a little too close to humiliation for his comfort.

“Look Dra-Blaine” Kurt quickly amended, he softened his tone hoping to soothe the other mans rumpled pride. “I don’t know why you’re running away from home. But the desire for freedom is truly something I understand. That gives us a common purpose.”

Blaine cocked his head to one side and considered Kurt with an expression that he could not decipher. He watched as Blaine’s tongue flicked out between his lips as if he was tasting the air, a quick pink flash, gone almost before it even appeared. When Kurt caught the almost imperceptible flare of his nostrils he knew that Blaine was thinking about the way he smelled and how they were supposed to match each other in spirit.

Heart pounding a little painfully Kurt balled the fabric of his breaches in his palms.

“It was a very brave thing you did. Leaving everything you know” he admitted softly, watching the dragon male carefully as Blaine walked toward him. “But life should be more than running. If we do not rely on each other now than the both of us will waste our lives running, lives that I think we both know will be short lived.”

“And together?” Blaine asked coming to kneel in front of Kurt again. Kurt stiffened at his nearness but held himself in place. “What life can we have together when we are strangers to each other, when we so revile each other? Would it not be as short lived? Wouldn’t I be a fool to trust my liberty in the hands of an enemy who denies all bonds with me?”

Kurt bit his lip, cringing as he remembered his volatile reaction to Blaine’s claim that they had some sort of connection. He didn’t blame Blaine for his distrust or for wondering if they could manage to work as a team. Not only had Kurt been sent to trap him, but he had rather fiercely insisted that he would betray him at the first turn. But Kurt was also right, the best chance either of them had for any sort of life after this point was together.

For he was only now beginning to realize that even if he escaped Wes long enough to find Finn and make it back home, there would always be the worry in the back of his mind, and there would always be other dragons. He had been lucky escaping unnoticed as long as he had but that sort of luck could not last forever. Perhaps once again, honesty was his best choice.

If only honesty did not terrify him as much as it did.

“I have a family.” Kurt explained quietly, licking his dry lips. “A father that loves me, a stepmother and a brother. I came to the sea in the hopes of finding him, in order to pay off his bond and bring him home to his daughter. Our parents gave everything to make that happen and more than anything I want to return home with my brother and restore our family again. I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. Help me do that Blaine and I swear I will guard you and your life as closely as I do my own. That’s something you can trust.”

Already Kurt was beginning to suspect that Blaine’s actions were not going to be easy to predict, even with his strange insight into the dragon’s feelings, because when Blaine laughed softly the sound surprised him.

“Please tell me what you find so humorous” he snapped, finding himself once again irritated with the other man.

“I find my predicament amusing, not your devotion. You have prickles, Kurt. Has anyone ever told you that?” Blaine asked and Kurt was tempted to push him over. Overhead the leaves rustled as if stirred by wind, but around them the air remained still.

“A time or two” Kurt replied coolly. “What predicament do you imagine yourself in? Surely you can see now how much you need me?”

“I am beginning to aye,” Blaine agreed with an ironic sort of smile. Kurt felt his stomach squirm, becoming all too aware of Blaine’s closeness as well as the heat of his body. He wondered if perhaps dragons blood ran hotter than humans.

“So are we agreed then?” Kurt asked and he waited anxiously for Blaine’s reply. The dragon male regarded him intensely, and then looked to the sky as if there were answers written there. Finally he sighed and turned back to Kurt.

“On two conditions. One, that you promise to cease leeching me, and two....” he said, leaning in closer to Kurt, eyes bright and earnest. “Please allow me to express my satisfaction with you. In my people’s way. It would ease me...comfort I believe is the best translation.”

“Alright first,” Kurt rubbed away the headache building between his temples. “You have got to explain to me what this leeching is. You keep saying it like I’m supposed to know.”

“I apologize, I forget sometimes that you are only half Sidhe. Your face and your form are...” Blaine fell silent, his mouth wrinkling in a frown as he bit his tongue and to Kurt’s ire he felt his face heating up.

“Maidenly?” He asked with just a hint of defensiveness. “I’ve been told before.”

“No. Not maidenly in the least.” Blaine denied firmly. “Kurt have you never seen another Sidhe?”

Kurt shook his head and answered, “just my mother. She was very beautiful, and I favor her.”

“Aye you do, but I assure you Kurt no one could confuse you for a maiden. Sidhe men are just as beautiful as their women. That’s why it’s so hard to remember that you are also human sometimes, when you are so incredibly....sidhe.”

Kurt almost laughed. He was beginning to realize that Blaine was not the best with words, nor did he have much of a filter for the words that escaped him. It was endearing enough to make him a lot less nervous. It also helped that he could feel what Blaine felt. The easy admiration, the warmth. It was flattering, but not so intense as to be frightening.

“Leeching?” He asked with an impatient lift of his brow, bringing Blaine back around to the point.

“Aye, Leeching. Sidhe have a strange power, a power that the dragan fears even while the republic has tried to understand and embrace it. You can feel what I feel can’t you?”

Kurt nodded and Blaine nodded along adding, “there is another name for it in my tongue but leeching is the best translation.”

“Does it hurt you?” Kurt asked, afraid that he might be causing Blaine undo discomfort.

“No. But imagine for a moment I could feel you as you feel me. Imagine that I could influence the way that you feel, and by so doing, influence the choices you make.”

Kurt didn’t need to think on it for long. He couldn’t imagine someone having that kind of power over him, how invaded he would feel, how vulnerable. He flushed with guilt, suddenly ashamed of the way even now that he could feel Blaine’s distaste echoing inside of him.

“I am sorry. I’m not...I’m not sure how I’m doing it. But I promise, I will do my best to end it.” He promised Blaine and the dragon seemed to believe him, nodding slightly.

“As for...as for the other thing....” Kurt couldn’t finish, suddenly too nervous to string his words together. He never let men touch him, afraid of the feelings that always rose up unbidden, and just the thought of Blaine pressing close inhaling the scent of his skin made him extremely nervous.

Blaine’s nostrils flared and once again Kurt wondered if he was able to scent his fear. Something about that thought made him feel even more bare and that brought his irritation back. He responded by pushing back his fears, stiffening his spine and clenching his fingers into a fist, managing to look a whole lot braver than he felt. He did not move as Blaine slowly raised his hands bringing them to hover on either side of his body.

“May I?” He asked quietly and Kurt nodded.

Blaine’s hands settled lightly on Kurt’s waist and he jumped despite himself, as burned by their touch as if the hands were hot irons. Blaine made a soft sound in the back of his throat, something low and soothing, rubbing his thumbs against him in comforting circles.

“Scent is our most important sense.” Blaine whispered between them, “I can know more about you from this than I could from anything you could say or do. I trust your words but...”

“But we are strangers to each other and this is a dragon thing.” Kurt tried to smile, not so much to ease Blaine but as to pretend he himself was at ease, though it was the farthest thing from the truth. “I understand.”

Blaine’s thumbs rubbed his sides a moment more, the dragon male lowering his head inch by inch, giving Kurt a wide window of retreat that he almost preferred he didn’t have. And then Blaine’s forehead was pressed against his shoulder, and Kurt could feel the heat of his skin even through his tunic. He shuddered, but not from nerves or fears this time. There was something foreign in his blood, a raw sense of power that put his whole body on edge, stringing it tight with urgency.

His breath quickened and his hands found themselves on the back of Blaine’s neck, feeling skin that was suddenly without glamour. It was smooth and supple beneath his hands, with a strange not-quite human feel to it. It was indeed unnaturally warm, and Kurt could feel the unusually strong beat of Blaine’s pulse beneath his palms. It centered him, calmed him in a way that he could not explain but nonetheless made him feel as if here he had control.

‘You don’t have to do this’’ Kurt found himself thinking, suddenly fearing that somehow he was pushing Blaine, leeching him as he had called it.

‘Yes I do. Please, Kurt.’ Kurt tried to ignore any feelings inside that weren’t his, he really did, but the feelings coming from Blaine were so strong they were hard to ignore. There was some strange hungry part of him that swallowed them, drank them in as if they were nectar.

There was so much need coming from Blaine that Kurt knew he should be frightened, but all he felt was a sense of thrilled wonder. His heart pounded hard as Blaine turned his head, focused gaze on the place where where his hands were unlacing the front of Kurt’s tunic, the place where pale flesh appeared as the garment slipped away from his shoulders.

Kurt shivered as cool air touched his flushed skin, then again when Blaine pressed his cheek against his collarbone, his breath fanning the column of Kurt’s throat as he breathed in and out. Kurt clutched him tightly, fingers entangling with the soft curls at the nape of his neck while Blaine’s nose grazed against his skin slow and light.

He did that strange little darting motion with his tongue again. Kurt felt it lightly flick the skin of his throat and he heard someone moan deeply; only knowing it had come from him because he felt the sound as if it had been torn from his throat.

Blaine whimpered, pulling him closer and dragging in a lungful of noisy breath so deep that Kurt felt almost as if he would be pulled inside somewhere dark and strange and left to fall there forever.

The two men stayed as they were for a moment, panting heavily.

‘a caomh’ the words whispered between their minds were alien to Kurt but he felt the power of them, right down in his core. He still couldn’t bring himself to do anything more strenuous than gasp for breath.

“Damn” Blaine muttered, this time in a language that Kurt understood all too well. He backed away, leaving Kurt feeling dizzy and strangely disoriented.

“What. Do I smell like immanent betrayal or something?” Kurt asked, trying hard not to appear as flustered as he felt; and not to resist the urge to pull Blaine back were he seemed to most want him. Belatedly he realized he was still clutching the dragon’s head and he let his hands drop, face flushing.

“No.” Blaine grinned at him, the good humor Kurt had first seen in him returning. “That is the least of things I have to fear from you Kurt. The very least.”

#############

Avaritale was an ancient city, said to have been built by Rage, lover of the sky goddess, so long ago that it had faded from the minds of even the oldest of the children of Shael, the earth god. It was by him the world had been created, and after him it had been named, and of all the beings that had inhabited it the elven races were amongst the oldest. But even the Sidhe did not remember the creation of Avaritale, or when Shael the earth god gave the Rtanchree to the first anam bearer.

Ryetah had spent most of her life in Avaritale, chosen along with her sister by the anam bearer of her house for rearing in the art of anam bearing. She had never thought to find herself outside the great city on her own, and never so far as the venfold, where the high elves built cities with brick and stone and consorted freely with the lesser races.

She had ventured into the venfold to the city of Talis in order to find a dwarf by the name of Dardin. Dwarves were a reclusive species, most preferring to keep to their own in the mountain regions, but some of their more adventurous (as well as outcast) plied their trades for profit for whomever would pay the most.

Talis was a smaller village on the border of the venfold, an rough and backwards sort of place full of simple people more concerned with scratching out their life on the edge of the marsh lands, than they were with the fate of kingdoms. It was home to a fair amount of wood elves and goblins who were well suited to that sort of life.

Ryetah stuck out there, drawing attention to herself by the state of her dress alone. Though she wore simple and unadorned clothing for travel, the quality was fine and obviously tailored for her form unlike the rough hewn and rustic styles of the men and women that populated Talis.

She knew that her presence, as well as that of her two companions, had not gone unnoticed and was not at all surprised to find that Dardin had been forewarned that there were strangers seeking him. She’d finally found a boy willing to lead her to a dwarf who had recently set up shop as a blacksmith by the name of Dardin, though her purse had been considerably lighter afterwards.

Dardin’s shop looked very much like any other blacksmith’s, more interesting to Ryetah was Dardin himself. He was the first dwarf she had ever seen. He was short, though perhaps tall amongst his own people, with a strange look of thinness to him despite his stout stature. The hair on his head and on his chin was a rich red, growing wild in a way that somewhat resembled a lions mane.

“Unless ye’ve come fer something fixed or fashioned I’ve no business with ye” the dwarf growled in a surprisingly youthful and melodic tone.

“Are you Dardin of the house of Wolarg?” She asked, approaching the dwarf man where he stood beside the forge. “The same Dardin who once won the secret to melding Sidhe metals in a wager? It would have been some years ago, in a village they call call Bale.”

Dardin did not answer immediately, his gaze focused on the forge where he tended to the heating coals. When he did answer he did not bother to turn toward the Sidhe woman standing behind him, nor did he spare a glance for her companions.

“Ye speak like a man could forget winning such a secret” he scoffed, turning his head to spit in the dirt. “I suppose that thimble headed fool Torin told ye the story?”

“Aye, Torin spoke of it to our anam bearer” Ryetah said as her heart leaped. She just knew that Dardin was the dwarf she sought and soon she would have answers.

“Fool.” Dardin spat again, finally turning to rearguard Ryetah and her companions. “‘ He couldn’t get out of Bale fast enough. Ye’d think he’d have enough sense to stitch his tongue, but the Sidhe always did think more of themselves than was wise. Strange things going on at the Dragan’s borders. Left myself, and glad to be rid of it. I’ve nothing to say to ye she-elf, and that’s all I’m sayin on the matter.”

“Please” Ryetah entreated the dwarf, reaching up to lower her hood and reveal her pale features. “I only need a moment of your time.”

Dardin’s eyes widened as they took in Ryetah’s dark hair as it spilled down her back. It was the color of rich bark. Her face was considered remarkably beautiful even amongst the Sidhe. A face that had inspired everything from the fiercest of passions to the darkest of jealousies. A face that had no twin, but once there had been another young woman of equal beauty, similar features.

As Ryetah watched desperate hope be replaced by an haunted look of pain in the dwarf man’s eyes, she knew without a doubt that Torin’s suspicions had been correct. Dardin had known her sister.

“Years ago you fashioned an armlet for a Sidhe slave.” Ryetah said, searching Dardin with eyes deep and dark as tree bark, so unlike her sister’s whose eyes had often been likened to the sea.

“You carved it with runes, a complicated spell that would trap its wearer in whatever form they were in when the armlet locked around their flesh. You boasted to Torin that it was your finest work.”

“Aye.” Dardin responded with a short nod, his voice rough with emotion. “Aye, I did.”

############

Blaine wasn’t at all sure that he’d made the right decision deciding to travel with Kurt. Not because he didn’t trust him- which was admittedly ironic considering Kurt’s shouted words the day before about how he was all too willing to betray him at the first turn- but because he didn’t trust himself.

He was undeniably attracted to the sidhe male. Even if their last scenting had not been so....heated, he had only to look upon the beautiful young man to know that. That in itself wasn’t so alarming, the sidhe were beautiful creatures and even the most hateful of dragons would say so before tacking on a curse to their supposedly black hearts. Kurt was sidhe so of course he was beautiful, and it was no crime to desire a beautiful man.

No, what troubled Blaine was how he’d risked everything getting out of Dalkinley to escape having to take a rider, and out here he runs into the only person who has ever made him want to kneel for the saddle (as his father always liked to call it in that mocking tone that made Blaine feel less a dragon).

A proud dragon never carried anyone of any race on his back, let alone a sidhe. While he was not as bitter against the elven races as many a dragon (not to mention his father) Blaine was adamantly against Lavair’s schemes to saddle him with an sidhe rider. War would be even more repulsed by his youngest son than he already was if he ever learned that Blaine had taken a rider period, let alone one of the sidhe.

The only plus to Kurt was that he at least was not a slave. Kneeling to a free sidhe was slightly less humiliating than a slave.

He’s part sidhe, Blaine reminded himself for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He honestly didn’t know why that should matter so much to him, whether he was trying to make Kurt more acceptable in his mind by focusing on his humanity, or less of a threat. Humans after all were not capable of magic so strong that they could seduce beings as strong as dragons into the docility of pack mules.

Though the republic held to the belief that not all sidhe were dangerous or sought the destruction of the dragan, only an simpleton would turn his back on a sidhe, War had taught all of his sons that lesson quite well.

“So don’t get angry, I promise I’m not trying to snoop, but you’re practically screaming at me.” Kurt’s voice broke Blaine out of his thoughts and he looked up to find the demihman had gotten quite a ways ahead of him on the road. They’d left their camp as soon as the sun had risen and were on the road to the next port city, Vagru. They needed to make good time that day, for it was the only day they could be sure that Wes and the others were not pursuing them.

“My apologies. My anger isn’t directed at you Kurt” he apologized, though it wasn’t necessarily true. He picked up his pace, catching up with Kurt and moving past him even as Kurt said,“that’s a lie. I can feel you remember, and I know that’s an invasion of your privacy but for the time being I can. Believe me Blaine all of that anger and mistrust is directed at me.”

“So you think you know my feelings better than I do now?” Blaine couldn’t help but snap at him, irritated by how much power Kurt seemed to have over him as well as at what a disadvantage that put him.

“No I just think it’s humorous how you took me to task for how much I hate your kind when clearly you have no love for mine either.”

“Untrue. You are not the first elf I’ve met nor the first I’ve-” Blaine almost tripped and fell he was so shocked at himself and what he’d almost let his wayward tongue say. Kurt reached out and steadied him, his eyes catching on the pendant that had slipped out from beneath his shirt to swing freely from around his neck. Blaine tucked it back under and moved away from Kurt’s hands.

“The first you’ve what Blaine? Please, tell me how kindred you felt with your slaves” Kurt sneered at him and it made Blaine burn thinking of Kurt thinking of him that way, as if he were the kind of dragon who relished his mastery over the weak and took pleasure torturing those in his service.

“You know it’s possible Kurt, that we’re not all the monsters you think we are.”

“So you don’t own any slaves?” Kurt asked in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer and Blaine grit his teeth because of course he had servants, and while he saw the difference between a sidhe who served at Dalkinley and the slaves who served the rest of the dragan, Kurt of course would not.

“We have servants yes” at the disgusted sound Kurt made Blaine bristled and struggled to remember the virtue of patience. This was not a reality particularly easy for Kurt to learn to accept. “Once bound you are forever compelled to serve as long as your master lives and dragons are as long lived as the sidhe. Yes we buy slaves from the traders but believe it or not we consider it a mercy.Those who are in our employ at Dalkinley at least are granted rights and freedoms they would have nowhere else. They are even paid for their services.”

“Impressive.” Kurt sounded anything but. “I’d be more impressed if they could leave your employ.”

“And what would you have us do Kurt? Buy the slave and then destroy ourselves so they might be free from the bond?”

“Or simply kill the traders who bound them in the first place.”

“Which is as good as buying the slave only to turn around and cast yourself off of a cliff. The slave trade is not illegal but killing a dragon just for doing his job is” Blaine scoffed. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that no matter what arguments he presented, Kurt was never going to see this issue the way he did. Perhaps it was unfair of him to expect him to, considering what he knew his mother most have suffered at her masters hands.

But he wanted Kurt to understand at least that he was not cruel, that he did not hate the sidhe as his father did, that he was not as thirsty to prey on the weak as his brother had been. Blaine reached inside his shirt and withdrew the pendant that hung around his neck, the pendant he’d been willing to risk everything to go back to the tavern to retrieve.

It was made from smoothly polished stone, a striking mixture of emerald and gold reminiscent of his scales when he was in his natural form. Kurt looked to the pendant clutched between his fingers and then back to Blaine, openly curious despite the tension between them.

“Long ago, when our people were at peace the sidhe would send their anam bearers, soul bearers...a sort of priest, to the dragan.” Blaine explained and Kurt continued to listen intently. “They would bless the hatcheries, perform rituals to foster continued strength and good fortune in our young. Aye they did,” Blaine insisted as disbelief clouded Kurt’s face. “It is hard to believe given the state of things but there was a time when we were each others greatest ally. Some sidhe had the power to form a special bond with a dragon called the anam tai, to become riders, and when they did they would gift their dragons with one of these.”

Blaine pulled the pendant over his head, extending it towards Kurt and Kurt reached to take it from him. When his fingers touched the stone he jolted as if shocked and Blaine couldn’t help instinctively pulling it back. He couldn’t explain why handing the pendant over felt as hard as it was, but simultaneously it also seemed important, as if the stone was a much Kurt’s as it had always been Blaine’s.

When he offered it again and this time Kurt managed to take it without any mishap he was relieved. He felt inside as if the stone had somehow been waiting for Kurt.

Kurt fisted the stone in his palm, his cerulean eyes somehow brighter and sharper than usual. He was trembling, his gaze fixed on the stone and Blaine thought that perhaps Kurt felt the same way.

“What is it?” he asked and Blaine did not attempt to take it back from him though he felt admittedly bare without it.

“All sidhe wear them. They call them, Rtanchree. We don’t know their full purpose or the extent of their power, but we do know that the sidhe are gifted with them at birth, that they are something like an anchor for them. When a rider gifted the stone to their dragon we think it was meant to convey trust.” Blaine explained and Kurt nodded, adding softly, “the dragon became the anchor.”

Blaine blinked, surprised that the notion had never struck him or Lavair and the other elders who studied the long forgotten age of peace between their people so zealously. Yes, it made a certain amount of poetic sense.

“So...your rider gave you this?” Kurt asked, a strange sort of bite to his tone and Blaine felt blood rush to his cheeks.

“No” he denied vehemently. “I have no rider. Nor will I ever. Dragons no longer accept riders, at least not willingly.”

“How come?”

“The dragan, we have our own holy practices. The house of white dragons are the closest thing we have to priests. They are sacred to us as the most pure and most powerful of dragon kind. Only no one has seen one, even the oldest of our elders who have lived longer than there have been men in the shael, not since a young white dragon was murdered by her rider. He abused his power over her, squashing her will until the fire died in her heart and her scales turned black as pitch. They destroyed each other; and their deaths were felt so keenly amongst our peoples that they say the madness it inspired could be felt across the shael. We turned against each other, dragon against sidhe, riders against their mounts.

“Now most dragons would sooner die than take a rider, and we have since discovered that the Sidhe have a harder time leeching dragons they have not tended to while they are in the egg. That is why Sidhe slaves are banned from our hatcheries, and why there have been no riders with dragon mounts for centuries. The republic feels however that the anam tai between rider and mount could be a blessing when used properly, that rearing a generation of young dragons with riders will somehow change the course of history...perhaps lead to an end to the war between our people.”

“Only you don’t want a rider” Kurt guessed, the words barely a breath after Blaine had finished his story. “I suppose I can understand why not. Putting yourself under the control of someone else. I don’t think I could do it either.”

Blaine looked to Kurt and smiled. In that moment he felt as if they were of one mind, completely understanding each other.

“How did you get this Blaine?” Kurt asked gesturing with the pendant in his palm.

“I was not born in the republic. My mother had a sidhe slave who had been an anam bearer amongst her own people” Blaine continued to explain. “My mother promised her a better life in Dalkinley if she would perform the rituals over me. She was my nurse mother for many years.”

Thinking about the sidhe woman who had cared for him in the place of parents too consumed with their own schemes for power always left a pang in Blaine’s chest. Many slaves were forced to play nurse mother and watch over hatchlings after they had left the egg, but his nurse mother had been with him from his first conscious thought, long before he even officially entered the world. They’d had a bond that War and even Blaine’s mother could not understand. Unlikely as it had been, what with Igraine’s hatred for dragon’s and his natural mistrust of sidhe, they had truly been kindred. Igraine had been his first and longest friend. His caomh.

“Did she die?” Kurt asked gently feeling Blaine’s grief.

“Yes. I went into my first season and my father guessed what my mother had done. He sees me not as his son but as something defiled. He and my older brothers were hunting us, and we were cornered so mother ordered Igraine to hold them off as long as she could while we tried to reach Dalkinley. That’s when Igraine gave me this. So that whenever I looked to it I could remember. Love is possible between our people.”

“I’m very sorry.” Kurt said, and Blaine believed he was. He knew a lot about the kind of man Kurt was. He could not explain how taking scents allowed for that, but it did. He had Kurt’s scent firmly tagged in his memory and he could smell more on him than Kurt would ever even imagine possible. For instance, Blaine could smell the fresh salt of the tears welling in the demihuman’s eyes as Kurt imagined the sidhe slave woman who had reared him. Blaine wondered if Igraine’s story had reminded him of his own mother.

“If I could change things for the sidhe trapped in the dragan lands, Kurt I would.”

“I know.” Kurt smiled at him sadly unfurling his fist and offering Igraine’s pendant in his open palm. “There’s a lot of power in this. I feel as if I could make the earth shake if I but asked it to.”

Blaine thought he felt the ground move beneath his feet at those words, but he couldn’t be sure because his own knees were practically knocking as he took his pendant back from Kurt and their fingers brushed. The sidhe boy might as well have torches for hands the way they managed to heat Blaine up with something as simple as a brush.

Half sidhe, he reminded himself. He would be so thankful when his damned season was over and he’d be safe from being saddled for another year.

Blaine slipped the pendant back over his head and felt that same burn spread all over his body. He gasped, shuddering in surprise and Kurt flushed red, looking away from him in that way Blaine was coming to realize meant he was embarrassed of his own feelings. Or perhaps more accurate would be to say embarrassed by the way what Blaine felt made him feel. He couldn’t look at Kurt again either. Kurt wasn’t the only one embarrassed by his reaction.

That was certainly new.

TBC