A/N: This quite frankly was meant to be a oneshot to write because I was having some trouble writing my other story. But... now it's not? I have parts of it already figured out, so I'll likely be updating this one more than my other one.

But anyways, a bit about the story, yes? The beginning seems similar to 'Aladdin' to be honest. That's likely because it's one of my favorite Disney movies. But no, this isn't like a Klaine-Aladdin story. It's quite different. Also, I'm warning you now, I always end up adding angst. Somewhere. I make things difficult for so many characters with my ANGST.

Well anyways, I hope you all enjoy my random idea~


Laughter was the man's only response as he watched his target run off into the crowded shopping market that filled the streets of Durbendy. The 'street rat' shoved the stolen apple into his mouth as he carefully maneuvered around the crowds or people as though he had been trained to do so - and considering his living conditions, who knows, maybe he had been. He carefully tucked the half-loaf of bread into his torn satchel, and turned a corner in attempt to escape from the angered shop keeper.

"Stop that street rat!"

But the man's calls were for nothing, for the thief had already maneuvered himself out of the streets and to the outer walls of Durbendy. How he moved that quickly was a mystery to all he'd ever encountered, and if you asked him, he'd just tell you that 'being born a pauper has its perks'.

Brushing his sweat-soaked hair from his face, the thief took the ripe-red apple from his mouth, taking a large bite from it as he did so. Moaning from the pleasure of the juices hitting his parched throat, he looked at the slightly-forested area in front of him and sighed.

The drought had been going on for two months now. Those who couldn't fend for themselves financially fled, searching for a land where they wouldn't die of thirst; Kurt was one of those. His mother had died nine years ago, when he was only eight years old. His family had always had financial troubles, but they only got worse as time went on. His father began to fall ill three years prior to the present day. Kurt was forced to work hard, long hours for someone who had only been a young teen - and yet, he never complained. He went to work in the marketplace each and every day with a smile on his face, ready to work, only to return home to a frail father that he needed to spend all his spare time caring for.

Despite all of his hard work and effort to keep his father going, he had passed away two years ago. Due to the time he spent grieving for his lost father, he lost his job as well. He was left alone at fifteen no family, no job, no home. He had no friends, growing up in the secluded life he had had left him without any.

He was alone.

"Kwurt?" a small voice called. Snapping out of his reverie, the boy turned his gaze downwards, giving a loving smile when he spotted the little girl who had spoken his name. Crouching down, he slipped the partially-eaten apple back into his bag, placing both hands on her sides.

Her gold, matted hair was pulled back into two loose pigtails, her thumb in her mouth as she smiled at the teen in front of her. She had in a dark pink dress with a ripped shoulder, and a pair of dark blue pants. The clothing was grass stained, and her bare feet were covered in scratches and dirt. Her blue eyes stared straight into Kurt's as he smiled at her sweetly, feeling sorry for what the young girl had to go threw at a simple four years old.

"Where are your brothers?" he asked softly, knowing the young girl had been getting easily spooked ever since her father had lost his job and they had been forced to search for a new home as well.

"Sammy went into town to look for you, Kuwrtsie," she giggled. "He said he needed to... to warn you of sometin'!" Moving the thumb from her mouth, the girl continued. "And Stevie went after him! He said it would be a really fun adventure! But he wouldn't let me go," she pouted. "He said it was too tough for girls to do."

Kurt looked around briefly before grabbing the girl's hand and standing up. Walking into a batch of overgrowth that managed to somehow last the draught, he dropped her hand and looked around briefly again. "Stacy, I need you to stay here for me, okay?" She nodded. "I mean it. Only come out for me, Sam, Stevie, or your parents." She nodded again, rocking on her heels. "Speaking of which, where are they?"

"They went to look for a job again." Looking at her innocent face, all Kurt could do was smile sadly. Poor Stacy and Stevie... it was bad enough that he and Sam had nowhere to go, but those two... they were only four. Their parents were both unemployed and had three mouths to feed, only one of those mouths capable of fending for themselves. Which brought Kurt to his current problem.

Stevie.

According to Stacy (who, despite her age, was quite the reliable source), he'd wandered off after Sam while he searched for Kurt in the village - and without a doubt, he'd be nabbing a little something for him and his siblings to eat. And that right there put Stevie in enough danger, not to mention all those people around who would feel that nabbing a little boy to do slave work during the drought would be completely humane.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" Receiving a nod from the young girl, he sped back in the direction he had just come from, hoping it wouldn't be too late to warn Sam that his brother had snuck out after him.


Kurt had known Sam for much of his life, although the two were never friends. Kurt was always the odd-one-out, always having been more uneducated than the others, and having had much less money. Not to mention, any of his free time as a child was spent on caring for his father.

But Sam's family had always been well off, from what Kurt had known. They owned a prosperous farm just off the edge of Durbendy, about five-hundred acres. At one time, Kurt had worked as a stable boy for them there. It was actually the last job Kurt had had before the drought. He had gotten the job a little after his seventeenth birthday, and lost it when the farm went bankrupt a month into the drought.

Even before the drought, the Evans Farm was slowly losing money. Many of their livestock had grown ill and passed away, leaving them to make a profit solely off of their crops. So when the drought came, it hit them hard. All of their money had been spent on purchasing new livestock, so they had none saved up to pay for taxes or anything of the sorts, leaving them without any money.

When the workers of the crown came to claim custody of the farm, Kurt had been there. Mrs. Evans had been in tears, leaning on her husband for support. Sam had just arrived home from shopping in the market, Stevie on his back, and Stacy pushing the wheelbarrow they used to cart stuff to and from the market.

They had been forced to leave their home in Durbendy, Kurt tagging along with them for a short while. They took refuge in the forest surrounding their homeland, searching for hours on end to find a new shelter for the night. They often ran into other families with the same conditions as them, but they never hung around them.

No one could trust one another.

Over time, Kurt and Sam grew to be quite close. They often went back into Durbendy together, stealing small amounts of food in an attempt to stay alive. They were as close as two friends could be, really. They shared their secrets, and for the first time since his father died, Kurt had somebody to talk to.

But he still had a secret he hid from even Sam.

Kurt liked men. Meaning, in childish terms, he like-liked men, not women. Now, to Kurt, that really wasn't a big deal; it was just who he was. But to everyone else, it was something that could be punishable by death. So, Kurt couldn't tell anyone, he couldn't admit to a boy if he fancied them, or walk down the marketplace holding the person he likes hand.

No, Kurt would have to lie about his life to everyone, including Sam and the rest of the Evans family.

Now maybe if the incident with the Berry's hadn't happened five years ago, he wouldn't have been so scared to tell the Evans. But five years ago, it was discovered the Mr. Berry (thought to be a widowed husband) was actually in relations with his housekeeper, also a man. They were forced to flee Durbendy when their house was cast in flames, but Mr. Berry's thirteen-year-old daughter had been taken from them and into the custody of the crown. She now worked as a chef, working long, hard hours as punishment for her father's actions.

And Kurt was already forced to leave Durbendy; he didn't want to be almost killed as well. The draught was hard enough without having a heavy secret hanging over him. So, he hid it. He would go on single for the rest of his life if he had to; he would not tell anyone his secret, not even Sam.


The marketplace seemed to return to its busy state in the small time frame Kurt was gone. No longer were guards looking around for him, but they had rather returned to their stations at each gap in the marketplace, making sure no one ran off.

Knowing that he could be recognized by any of them at any second, Kurt quickly snatched a scarf from a nearby stand (luckily not getting caught), and tied it around the top of his head, covering the top of his head. Hopefully that would help a bit.

After wandering around for a few minutes, Kurt heard a familiar call.

"THEIF! STOP HIM! CATCH THAT STREET RAT!"

Spinning around, Kurt saw exactly who he was looking for running straight for him. Sam. And Stevie had his arms wrapped around his brother's neck as the blond-haired boy jumped over small obstacles, running as quickly as he could towards the outer areas of Durbendy.

"Sam!" called Kurt, running after the boy when he sped by him. But Sam was too fast, too agile, for him, and it didn't help that he didn't seem to hear his call. So, Kurt ended up tripping in his desperate attempt to catch up with his friend.

Wincing as his head made contact with the hard ground; Kurt scrabbled in an attempt to get back up, only to see a hand in his face. Looking up with confusion, the pauper spotted a smiling face holding an outstretched hand in an offer to help him get up.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Kurt simply nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He was too mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

Short, dark hair was plastered to his head with hair gel, a few strands occasionally breaking away and curling freely. His skin color was a gentle olive shade, and his clothing… well, Kurt must admit, it was quite amazing clothing. There was no doubt that this man came from a wealthy family.

He wore a baggy, white shirt tucked nicely into a pair of long, tan pants. His coat was navy blue with a red trim on it, the sleeves overly loose. It hung down like a long cape, the back of it having a large and fancy letter D sewn on in a rich red coloring.

"Prince Anderson, don't speak to the commoners. Some may be diseased at a time like this." Looking to his left as he lay on the ground, Kurt saw a tan-skinned man with a black Mohawk standing with his hands behind his back, and a sharp glare directed at him. Biting his nip nervously, Kurt took in the other two men behind him, both at medium height, one with slightly-spiky black hair, and one with dark hair parted to the side.

Prince Anderson laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Don't believe such rumors, Puckerman." Kurt took onto the prince's still extended hand now, and pulled himself up, albeit nervously now that he knew he was in company of the prince. Turning around now, the prince faced his guards. "Wilson, Harwood, Puckerman, a moment if you would?" The spiky-haired one – Harwood – opened his mouth to object, but after receiving a sharp glare from his prince, snapped it shut again and led the other two a few yards away, still keeping an eye on Prince Anderson.

"I'm sorry about them…" he said, rubbing the back of his perfectly-gelled head. "They have been slightly… overprotective since the beginning of the draught. They mean you no harm, of that I can promise." A slight smile played on his lips now, causing Kurt to smile back.

"Oh, i-it's no problem at all, P-Prince Anderson…" he stuttered slightly, looking down at his feet. Never before had he seen the prince, and gosh, he was gorgeous. "I-if you don't mind me asking… what is it you are doing out of your castle?"

Blaine laughed slightly at that, still smiling at Kurt as he continued. "Oh, the guards asked me to come out and see if I can up security. Apparently, there have been quite a few thieveries recently." Smirking, he added, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you?"

"N-no!" Kurt squeaked, almost too quickly. "I-I mean, of course not, sir." Biting his lip now, Kurt rocked back on the heels of his bare feet (having outgrown his last pair of shoes around four months back).

"Very well then," he responded, a slight, knowing smirk on his face. "And please, call me Blaine. I may be a prince, but calling me 'Prince Anderson' or 'sir' makes me feel slightly like my father…" he frowned a bit at that, but it was gone so fast, Kurt wasn't even sure he had seen it.

"Well, thank you for assisting me then, Prince Blaine," responded Kurt, smiling slightly. There was something about the prince… something that just caught his attention. He didn't know what it was, but with any luck, he'd never have to find out.

"It was my pleasure…" began the prince; suddenly realizing he had never caught the younger boy's name. "Wait, I never caught y-"

"Prince Anderson!" came the call from the guard trio, causing both boys to look over at them. "Prince Anderson, we must hurry!" The one speaking was Harwood, who in Kurt's opinion seemed to be the one who had the hardest time keeping his mouth clothing.

"I'm coming, Thad! Just hold on one moment, please!" Prince Blaine rolled his eyes slightly, continuing to speak before even turning back to face Kurt. "I'm sorry about them, as I stated, they are slightly over protective. Now, would you mind informing me… of… your name…"

Blaine mumbled the last part slowly, having now turned back to face Kurt – or, where Kurt had been only moments before. He looked around briefly, trying to catch a sign of the honey-colored hair of the boy, but not managing to spot it over the heads of the many people of Durbendy.

"Prince Anderson!"

"Coming, coming!" With that, the prince was forced to turn on his heels and walk gracefully back over to his guards to try and work out the problems of the marketplace.


"Oh… oh God… what… did that really just… oh… oh my…" Kurt now had his back against the walls surrounding the village, breathing deeply while trying to form coherent thoughts, and quite frankly failing. The second the prince had turned his head, Kurt ran for it, running as though he had just stolen a pound of gold.

He ran straight towards the forests, stopping only when he reached the edge of Durbendy. Slowly stepping away from the wall, Kurt gripped onto his chest, taking a few more deep breaths before heading off to the area he had told Stacy to stay at, hoping that Sam and Stevie made it out okay.


A/N: Thar we go. I wrote the first half of that on my IPod, the second half durring a Tornado Warning in my basement. It never even came to my town...

But anyways, thank you to the always wonderful redrosegal for beta-ing for me! I LOVE YOUUU *heart*

~Joshua