Blaine hadn’t become a knight by choice; his father and his grandfather before him had served the king and his destiny had been written since he was born.

It didn’t matter much that he was a kind and quiet boy, who loved reading and playing music and would never want to hurt anyone. As soon as he had been old enough his father gave him a wooden sword and brought him out on the training field. And Blaine tried and learned and worked hard, because it was the only way to make his father look at him with something which could sometimes be mistaken for affection, even though it was only pride.

Then one day, when Blaine was almost fourteen and about to become officially a squire, he met Kurt and the whole world tipped sideways.

Of course he had seen the young prince many times, at banquets and at tournaments, but he had always been far away, standing pale and beautiful by his father’s side, his eyes serious and so much wiser than his age. They had never talked, but that hadn’t changed the fact that the sight of him never failed to ignite something inside of Blaine, something warm and lurking that burnt brighter in his dreams. The way his heart thumped at the sight of the young prince was what made Blaine understand that he wasn’t going to fall in love with one of the pretty girls living at the castle.

The day they spoke for the first time it was raining and Blaine was running across the courtyard trying to reach the knights’ quarters before getting soaked to the bone. Before he even realized what had happened he got knocked off his feet and found himself lying on the ground looking up at the grey sky. A soft moan echoed through the rain and he hastened back to his feet. A cloaked figure was sitting on the ground, a hand clutching his head.

“I am so sorry! I wasn’t looking and…”

A pale, elegant hand raised up and Blaine swallowed back the rest of his apologies.

“No need to apologize, just… would you help me out here?”

Blaine quickly offered his hand and pulled the boy back to his feet, berating himself because as a future knight he should have offered his help right away. Those pale fingers closed around his as the boy started to move towards the main entrance. Blaine followed, almost in a haze, letting the feeling of that firm hand around his sink deep down inside of him.

When they finally reached the dry safety of the castle, the boy dropped his hood and Blaine could swear his heart just stopped beating. Standing in front of him, eyes huge and hair tousled, skin softly glowing in the candles’ light, was Kurt.

“I…Sire, I am sorry. I didn’t know…I…”

Kurt chuckled softly and Blaine could feel his cheeks heating up.

“There’s no need to apologize…Blaine, right?”

Blaine blinked, his head buzzing and his thoughts scattering around.

“I…you…you know my name?”

He looked mesmerized as a faint pink tainted Kurt’s cheeks.

“Well, you are the son of one of our bravest knights; I am supposed to know these things.”

The slightly breathless tone of his voice made something tremble inside of Blaine.

“I…of course, sire.”

Kurt’s hand reached out, his fingers squeezing Blaine’s shoulder gently.

“You can drop the sire, Blaine. Now go or you’ll catch a cold.”

Before Blaine could add anything else, Kurt turned and started walking down the corridor. Blaine remained there, dripping water all over the stone floor, with a huge smile on his face.

*

The next time they met was on the training field. Blaine’s heart had lodged in his throat as soon as he had spotted Kurt walking down the slope, the sun glinting over his armor. He looked like a dream and Blaine wished he could stop feeling this pull, this need to get closer to him.

When their gazes met Kurt smiled, a small and quick smile which pierced through Blaine nonetheless, before focusing on his training.

Lying in his bed that night, Blaine didn’t remember much of the training session, what he remembered were Kurt’s smooth movements, the elegance of his lunges and the look of concentration in those azure eyes of his.

*

As his training to become a knight intensified, Blaine got to see Kurt more often. A good prince was supposed to be strong, to know how to guide his men, and Kurt never failed to show up for training. And yet, Blaine could see the soft shadow lurking in his eyes as he wielded his sword. He knew he carried the same shadow around too. Because Kurt, beautiful and perfect Kurt, wasn’t made to kill; he was made to be kind and just, Blaine was sure of it, as he was sure that, even though the idea of killing a man chilled him to the bone, he wouldn’t hesitate if it meant protecting Kurt.

*

“You could come in, you know?”

Blaine’s heart slammed against his ribcage, his cheeks impossibly hot.

He had been walking down the corridor when he had heard someone singing; it was an old song, one his grandmother had used to sing to him, and the voice was so pure and clear that Blaine hadn’t resisted the temptation and had followed it. He had ended up in front of a slightly ajar door. He had taken a look inside and had spotted Kurt, sat on the bed, his eyes closed as he sang.

Blushing he pushed the door open.

“I am sorry, sire. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Kurt shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips.

“What did I tell you about the sire?”

“I am sorry, Kurt.”

Just the feeling of the prince’s name on his tongue made Blaine’s blood sing and he knew he was falling way too hard for someone who would never be his.

“And, please, stop apologizing, Blaine.”

Blaine nodded, looking at his boots.

“That..that was a beautiful song.”

“My mother used to sing it to me.”

Blaine lifted his gaze, Kurt was looking at him, his eyes sad, and Blaine felt warm all over at the thought that Kurt was opening up to him.

“Can I…sit there with you?”

Kurt nodded and scooted to the side to make room for him. Blaine sat down on the bed, his heart thundering in his ears.

“My grandmother always sang it to me; she was the one who taught me how to sing.”

“You know how to sing?”

“I love singing.”

Kurt’s hands took hold of his and the mattress shifted underneath him as Kurt moved closer.

“Would…would you sing with me?”

Blaine gathered enough courage to squeeze Kurt’s hands gently.

“I’d love to.”

*

Being friends with Kurt wasn’t easy; Blaine could feel the weight of disapproving gazes falling on their shoulders, a prince wasn’t supposed to spend so much time with a squire.

Kurt didn’t bulge, though, he insisted he and Blaine spent as much of their free time together as possible. Sometimes they found some abandoned room and talked and talked or read old books to each other. Other times – Blaine’s favorites – they went for a ride in the woods, racing each other down to the stream, Kurt’s laughter filling the air as the light slipped past the leaves above their heads and painted his skin in shadows.

He looked like a fairy and Blaine found himself helpless in front of the way his heart dilated at the sight, a love so new and so strong blossoming inside of him and growing until all that Blaine could think of while he trained, while he fell asleep, was Kurt.

*

It started with glances stolen over old music sheets in the castle’s library, Kurt’s eyes glinting like gems in the dusty half-light. It grew with shy touches of hands when they were sitting close to each other in the courtyard, looking up at the clouds and imagining to be far away from there, exploring new worlds together, always together.

It grew until Blaine could feel it in his bones, in every breath, in every word that Kurt said. Until it became impossible to keep it all locked inside.

*

The first time Blaine kissed him it was in an abandoned room in the west wing of the castle. It was thundering outside, the faint echo of the music coming from the dining hall could still be heard and Blaine didn’t remember well how much they had drunk. None of it mattered, though, because Kurt was right there, all huge eyes and plush lips, the crown resting on his head glinting softly in the half-light.

“Blaine…”

Warmth spiraled down his spine at the way Kurt had pronounced his name, low and breathless. If Blaine hadn’t already been so madly in love with him that would have been enough to make him fall to his knees.

“Kurt, I…”

And there were those three words, pressing hard to get out, to shine in the darkness of the passage, but before Blaine could let them free Kurt leaned in, pressing their lips together. They tasted of sweet wine and of need and desire, so strong Blaine’s heart dilated impossibly vast inside of him. He kissed Kurt as though he needed it to breathe, hands cupping his face, body pressing him against the wall, every curve and every line fitting perfectly.

When they broke apart he whispered “I love you” against Kurt’s lips like a prayer; Kurt smiled and kissed him again.

*

The first time Blaine touched Kurt they were in the stables late at night. They were sixteen and Blaine couldn’t tear his gaze away from Kurt’s face, cheeks flushed and lips parted, sweet moans tumbling past them.

As he panted against the smooth skin of Kurt’s neck, Kurt’s hand closed around him. Blaine thought he would gladly live forever in a place where there were only the two of them, skin touching and hearts beating.

*

Kurt proved himself incredibly clever when it came to finding places where they could kiss freely, hold hands, like lovers were supposed to do but they couldn’t.

Under willow trees and in silent rooms, Blaine mapped the soft planes of Kurt’s body, memorized them and held the memory like a treasure. He held Kurt close when he was worried for his father’s health and sang in his ear, soft and warm to make him feel safe and loved because no one was ever going to hurt Kurt if Blaine was there. Never.

And Kurt kissed him and touched him as though he was the most beautiful thing on Earth; it made Blane feel stronger. It made him so happy that Blaine felt like floating most of the time.

*

The day Blaine received his knighthood he was eighteen and the things he would always remember were the touch of the king’s sword on his shoulder and the smile on Kurt’s face, his eyes glinting in the morning light- I am so proud of you, love.

In that moment Blaine knew there was a reason why he was a knight; it was to protect Kurt, because he was all the beauty and the rightness that the kingdom and Blaine’s heart needed.

+++

It is a sunny day and patrolling isn’t too much of a hardship. Blaine loves getting the chance to be out in the sun, riding with his fellow knights, the forest whispering around them and the faint ghost of Kurt’s lips and fingers still lingering on his skin.

They have come far from that rainy day when they ran into each other. They hadn’t heard their hearts calling for each other back then, but now Blaine can hear his singing like a bird inside the cage of his chest.

Kurt is not a king yet, but that doesn’t stop the two of them from dreaming the same things at night, in the bed they secretly share – a safe and just kingdom, a place for them to be happy, hands never letting go.