Okay so after a bit of a Julia Stiles movie watching spree, I realised that there seriously needed to be some The Prince and Me au's out there and then this happened!
Enjoy :)
...
It was tough. People always assume that being a royal, you get everything so easy; that you never have to work for anything and that you'll never know real pain. He'd grown up hearing that his entire life, but he'd normally just ignored it because, if he was being entirely honest, it was kind of true. He did have it good and he really didn't know real pain, but really, what fourteen year old did? But now, at the age of 22, it was an entirely different story and he had a few no so appropriate things to say to those people; all along the lines of you don't know a fucking thing.
He really didn't know what he'd been going through his head when he'd made the decision to enrol in a university halfway across the world in the city of New York; he'd mostly just wanted to get away from it all and at least pretend to be normal, even if it was only for a little while. But never had he expected for things to turn out the way they did. Never had he expected to find him...
…
He'd never been a spontaneous person. He had very sensible parents; a lawyer and a receptionist. Like them, he'd always had plans; and he'd always stuck to them. He had a plan to finish school and then work his way through college as he studied to be a doctor. He'd always wanted to be a doctor – he couldn't remember a time in his life where he hadn't – and everything he'd ever done was working towards becoming just that.
Which was why he couldn't believe that he was currently on an aeroplane halfway to Denmark with a ticket – paid in parts by him and his three closest friends – that he'd only bought three hours before they'd taken off. But it was with thoughts of bright blue eyes and a heated kiss in his parents' barn back in Ohio and of wandering hands and whispers of desire in between the stacks in the college library that he sat on that plane, not even worried about the implications of running out mid-semester.
…
He'd never really been very enthusiastic about his royal duties, but the knowledge of his father's illness and his impending obligation to take over the thrown made it even more of a struggle that day as he pulled on his pants and buttoned his jacket. In fact, ever since he'd returned it seemed that each day was more of a struggle than the last, his mind preoccupied with images of a wide smile and black curls that brought the stinging feel of tears to his eyes and made his heart ache.
He loved his dad, more than anyone else in the world, and that was never going to change. But he'd never despised his father's choice of employment more than he did now – and while that was unfair to say, his father had had no more of a choice than he, it didn't change the fact that he felt trapped by it all. He'd always known, ever since he was a kid, that one day he would take over the thrown. However, he'd been envisioning that day as far far away in the future, after he'd had a chance to experience life and be reckless and fall in love and get married and have kids and be settled and ready to take on that responsibility. At the age of 22 though? That was absurd. He hadn't had nearly enough time to do all of that; and while he had fallen in love – desperately, hopelessly in love – that too had been snatched up from him by his duty to his family.
He hadn't even realised he'd begun crying until his inner monologue was interrupted by his father's voice, now weak from his illness, "you alright, kid?"
"What? Oh yeah, of course. Just fine," he hurried, quickly wiping the tears that seemed to have been steadily rolling down his cheeks for some time now.
"Is this, um, is this about that boy? The one from New York?"
His mind froze for a moment. He'd tried so hard not to let onto his dad about how he was feeling, but as he should have expected, his father saw right through him.
"I just miss him, is all," he said quietly, trying to control the quiver in his voice.
"I'm sorry, son."
"Dad, don't be ridiculous. I'm honoured to follow in your footsteps, in the name of this family. Anyway, we have to get going, they'll be waiting for us."
But as much as he tried to push it out of his mind, he just couldn't. He was distracted as they walked down to the mounting area, and as they left the grounds, and even as he waved politely to those in the waiting crowds in the streets. So distracted that, as his horse walked him through the parade, he didn't even notice people saying his name until the whole crowd was practically screaming it.
…
It wasn't exactly as he'd expected it to be, Denmark; but now was not really the time for sightseeing, not as he was running through the busy crowds trying to reach the barriers along the side of the road. There were so many people, far more than he'd been expecting, and it was a little overwhelming. If he couldn't make it to the front of the barrier, how on earth would he be able to find him, in a crowd of millions, when he didn't even know that he was here.
He began to panic as he saw official guards trotting around the corner in the distance. He needed to be at that barrier. He pushed and he shoved and he apologised over and over every time he did, but it didn't even matter when he reached the front and there he was, walking past on his horse, waving graciously at the crowd, the smallest of smiles upon his lips.
"Kurt!" he screamed, the top half of his body leaning over the railing as far as he could. "Kurt! Kurt!"
And that's when he started hearing what the people around him were saying.
Oh my god, it's you!
You're that boy, the one from America!
It's that boy from the papers!
It's Blaine! Blaine Anderson!
Did she say that's Blaine Anderson?!
Blaine Anderson? Is it really him?!
Blaine Anderson!
Blaine Anderson!
Blaine Anderson!
But he couldn't even hear them anymore, because Kurt had stopped to turn around and see what all the ruckus was about and their eyes met and Kurt's previously solemn face was now bearing a huge grin and in that moment Blaine had never been more in love with him. As if completely forgetting the fact that he was currently in the middle of something, Kurt turned his horse and headed straight for him, his smile never leaving his face. When he reached him he didn't say a word, just leant down and offered Blaine a hand; which, without hesitation, Blaine took and hoisted himself up onto the horse. His arms instinctively wrapped around Kurt's waist, his body craving to touch him, as Kurt cantered off in the direction in which they'd come.
There were horses following behind them, guards presumably, but Kurt only rode faster, cutting fast through passages before they stopped at the entrance of what Blaine could only assume was the royal palace. He jumped to the ground, helping Blaine down quickly, before intertwining their hands and running off through a door; ignoring the shouts of 'Your Highness' from behind them.
They ran through door after door, down corridors and through passageways, before they exited through one last door into a courtyard. Blaine didn't even have a moment to comment on how beautiful the courtyard was or how beautiful Kurt was before Kurt had him shoved up against a brick wall. He returned the kiss eagerly, realising in that moment how desperately he had missed him.
"What - are you - doing here?" Kurt gasped between kisses, his hands grasping tightly at Blaine's sides.
"I'm sorry – so so sorry – I had to see you – I love you – I love you, Kurt."
"But what – what about your finals?"
"Doesn't matter – only you do – god I missed you so much."
"I love you too – I love you so much – you have no idea."
"No – I'm pretty sure I do."
…
There you go! Hope you enjoyed this, and if you haven't seen the movie yet, get your butt to dvd store and buy it or download it or something, just watch it!
Please review and let me know what you thought!
Em xoxo
