A/N: So it looks like the 'ayes' have it... unanimously, really :D I want to get all Chris Colfer and say "calm down perverts!" but I asked for it and honestly, I'm rather excited to add those rated M scenes. They won't be for a bit, but I might as well change the rating now!

Sorry this chapter is pretty short but I didn't want to add filler story that wasn't relevant. I'd rather keep it all important :D

Enjoy!

Early Autumn, 621 A.D.; Lima, Algania

"No!" Kurt shrieked, sprinting down the ground floor halls of the castle. His feet pattered quickly on the stone, carrying him rapidly through the twisting labyrinth of passages. He could hear the same sound coming from behind him, telling him that his pursuer was hot on his tail. Kurt's chest was heaving and he was running out of stamina quickly.

Almost sliding on the stones, he turned directions abruptly and charged through the kitchens and outside, into the gardens beyond it. He had the benefit of being on his home turf and yet he still couldn't seem to lose the boy following his trail. "No fair!" He called without looking behind him. "They tailor these pants too tightly; I can't run!"

"No excuses!" Blaine called as he took the sharp turn behind Kurt, through the kitchens and outside. "If you give up…"

"No!" Kurt dodged into the hedge maze, set on winning this game of tag. There was no hope of Blaine ever finding him in there, soon enough he would give up. He ran through a few twists and turns and sure enough, the sound of the second set of feet died away.

Kurt slowed to a walk, feeling smug with himself. He'd told Blaine that he would win the game; there was no way he could fail. He knew his own home too well. He even knew which turns to take in the hedge maze so that he wouldn't hit a dead end. Kurt had spent a lot of time outside. He'd quickly learned that there were some places in the castle that Sammy wasn't allowed in, and so he had changed his habits to prefer spending time outside than inside. He prided himself on knowing almost every inch of the grounds. For instance, he knew that near the center of the maze was a large fountain complete with benches for sitting. That was where he was headed.

As he had known he would, Kurt reached the center of the maze without hitting any dead ends. He would sit there for a little while and go back to the entrance when he was sure Blaine had given up. He walked over to the fountain and sat on the wide brim, crossing his legs under him as he faced the water.

The bottom was littered with coins of all types – silver and gold, big and little. People came from all over to throw a coin in Fons Fortunae and see if their wish came true. According to myth, Fortuna had bestowed the fountain to humans and whoever threw in a coin for her had their wish come true. Alternatively, if anyone took a coin from Fortune's Fountain, they'd be destined to sit in her disfavor and face bad luck from that point onward.

People told Kurt that those were myths for a reason. They said that there was no such entity as Fortuna, that Fons Fortunae was just a pretty garden decoration. They were a Christian nation, Kurt had been told, and they didn't cower before a myth. Nevertheless, people still came to throw coins in the fountain, and Kurt had never seen anyone take from it.

He was so lost in thought about the fountain that Kurt didn't heard soft footfalls behind him. In fact, he didn't realize that he wasn't alone until a weight tackled him from behind and tipped both of them into the water.

Kurt came up sputtering. "Blaine," he exclaimed, wiping water out of his eyes. When he opened them, he saw that the other boy was laughing. He was also soaking wet, his wild thicket of curls soaked and plastered to his forehead, obscuring his eyes.

"You're it," said Blaine pleasantly, doing a little happy dance from where he sat.

Kurt tried to remain scowling but he couldn't do it. Blaine's smile was just too infectious. It had been four days since he'd seen him at the archery lanes and they had hardly spent any time apart. The king would be assigning the prospective pages to their fiefdoms the next day, and all too quickly Blaine would be leaving him once again. He couldn't waste that time being grumpy with him.

"Fine, fine," he said, giving in and chuckling along with him. "You win this time."

"Where are we?" Blaine asked, finally looking around at where they sat.

"In a fountain," Kurt answered dryly. "You pushed us in, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Well, I know that." When he lifted his hand up from the water, there were several coins shimmering there. "It's so strange though…people just leave money here? Kurt, what are you doing?"

When Blaine's hand had broken the surface of the water and Kurt had seen what he had clutched there, he'd lunged at the boy to bat them out of his hand. He knew it was futile – the damage was done, if it was possible. Blaine had taken a coin from the fountain.

"Put them back, put them back!"

Blaine dropped them quickly. "Why? What's wrong with them?"

"It's bad luck to take coins from Fons Fortunae," Kurt said, his momentary panic fading. It was just a myth, he reminded himself. "Or…so some people say." Blaine looked slightly unsure of himself. "I shouldn't have freaked out…that probably isn't making you feel better."

"No," Blaine said with a small smile.

"You shouldn't worry," Kurt assured him, trying to assure himself as well. "Maybe one day we can throw a coin back in to make up for it."

"What does that do?" Blaine asked, shifting closer.

"Well, if it's all true, it means that your wish will get granted." Kurt smiled as Blaine nodded, his eyes wide as he listened. "This fountain was supposed to have been given to the Romans by Fortuna. That's why it's named Fons Fortunae – Fortune's Fountain."

Blaine was quiet for a moment, his amber eyes looking down at the sparking coins. Kurt wished that he would look up so that he could see those eyes firsthand, rather than in the reflection of the water. "Then I definitely want to come back here," he said finally. "Someday Kurt, we should promise to come back here and make a wish together." He looked up at Kurt then, smiling widely.

"What would we wish for?"

Blaine shrugged. "Not sure." He held up his hand, pinky sticking out. "But whatever it is, it better be good. One day. Promise?"

Kurt returned his smile and linked their pinkies together. "Promise," he answered.

The two boys scurried out of the water a few minutes later, feeling a slight chill set in. They exited the hedge maze in favor of the wider garden and reclined side by side on the grass.

They were silent for a little while, the light breeze quickly drying their hair and clothes. Blaine was the first to break the silence. "Kurt?"

"Hmm?" Kurt was on his stomach, picking flowers from a nearby arrangement and weaving them together to make a crown, as Daphne had once shown him.

"You remember when we met…and you said that next time I came I could meet your mom?"

Kurt froze. "…Yes."

"Well, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I never got to." Blaine turned his head away from the clouds he'd been watching and towards Kurt, who was carefully guarded. "And that you're really brave about what happened. I couldn't be that brave."

"I'm not that brave," Kurt said quietly, fingers resuming their work again. "But thank you. I think you would have loved her – everyone did."

"If she was anything like you, I'm sure I would have too." Blaine said the comment offhand as he looked back up at the clouds, but Kurt looked over at him in surprise. Blaine loved him?

"So…where are you hoping to get assigned?" Kurt asked, changing the subject.

"I'm not sure," Blaine answered slowly. "I can't get assigned back home, so Westerville is out. Maybe I'll get somewhere close by. That way I can visit you!"

"Oh, I hope so!" Kurt said excitedly. "Maybe I can ask Uncle Paul."

"Unless Prince David gets there first," Blaine said with a tad of bitterness. "Then I'll probably get the farthest away possible."

"That's just the way he is," Kurt supplied with a shrug, not sure why he was defending his cousin. "He isn't like that all the time. I think he was just trying to show off for the other children."

"Probably. But I'm sure it won't be too far away! Now that I get to see you again, I don't think I want to spend time away. At least, not as long as last time."

"Me either," Kurt said, turning his head to grin at Blaine. He picked at a couple blades of grass before grinnig at Blaine wickedly. "Hey Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

As quickly as he could manage, Kurt's hand snaked out and he tapped it against Blaine's chest before rolling away onto his feet. "You're it!" He called out as he began to run.

"Hey, no fair!" Blaine said, laughing. He stumbled to his own feet and began to run. "I wasn't ready, this doesn't count!"

"No excuses!" Kurt called from ahead of him, using his own words against him. Smile threatening to take over his face entirely, Blaine picked up his pace and chased after the other boy.

Kurt was standing at the end of the line of nobles. He had to strain his head to see the young men that were getting assigned by the king. He'd been instructed to stay in his proper place, but when King Paul called for "Blaine Anderson of Westerville" to step forward, Kurt couldn't help but move out of line so he could hear what was going on.

He waited with bated breath – he hadn't known that he was this nervous about Blaine's assignment – as his uncle asked Blaine the standard questions. Uncle Paul was always thorough with his assignments. He asked the questions to determine the character of the prospective knight so he'd know where they were best suited to train. Kurt could tell from Blaine's answers that he wouldn't be assigned to any bookkeeping knight; he would be somewhere with action.

After a moment of contemplation, the king deemed that Blaine was best suited for the fief Ashtabula. Kurt's heart sunk. He imagined that there was probably no fief farther away from Lima than Ashtabula was. Kurt knew why his uncle had picked there. It was a border fief, sitting on the country line next to their eastern neighbor. Border fiefs always got the most action in and out of wartime. It was perfect for Blaine.

But it was not perfect for Kurt. No one decided to take one day trips between Lima and Ashtabula; it wasn't a convenient distance to travel unless there was an expressed reason for it. In Kurt's eyes, Blaine was being taken away from him again.

It was just bad luck.

Not two days later, Kurt stood at the drawbridge of the castle. The new pages were leaving with their companies to head for wherever they had been assigned. For Blaine, that meant that he would be going all the way to Ashtabula.

"When will we see each other again?" Kurt asked, trying not to look too downtrodden.

"I don't know." Unlike Kurt, Blaine didn't bother trying to disguise it. He sounded and looked miserable. "Maybe there will be a festival that the Lord of Ashtabula will want to come to? Or maybe the court will take to the road one summer?"

"Maybe," Kurt answered, skeptical. "I don't want you to go, Blaine." An icky feeling was working its way through his chest, making it feel tight and knotted up.

Blaine looked conflicted. "I want to go and train," he said slowly. "But…not more than I want to keep seeing you." He smiled ruefully, which Kurt attempted to reciprocate. "But, hey! Look on the bright side."

"All the sides look dark to me," Kurt said bitterly, crossing his arms.

"Even if I don't get to come back soon, we know that it won't be forever. I have to come back to be knighted, when I'm eighteen."

"But that's so far away," Kurt complained, looking up into Blaine's amber eyes.

"It's a long time," Blaine agreed. "But you'll know exactly when to expect me. We'll be all grown up, too. We'll be knights."

"What if we don't have anything to talk about when we're all grown up?"

"We will," Blaine promised, reaching out to take Kurt's hand. "I know it. I'll always have something to say to you."

Kurt observed the other boy for a few moments, his bright blue eyes trying not to blink. Suddenly, he moved quickly to throw his arms around Blaine. A moment later, Kurt felt Blaine's arms return the hug. "Well, we do have a promise we need to keep," Kurt said, his face pressed against Blaine's shoulder. "At Fons Fortunae."

"We will," said Blaine confidently. "Kurt? Will you…well, do you think you'll be here when I get back?"

"Right here," Kurt said, drawing away and pointing at the drawbridge under their feet. "I would say that I wouldn't move until you get back, but I have to eat and stuff…" They both chuckled.

"Master Anderson?" A member of Blaine's company had approached them. "We should leave soon if we're going to get very far today."

"Alright, I'm coming," Blaine said with a nod. "We'll be back together before you know it, Kurt. Just don't forget about me, alright?"

"I won't," Kurt promised. He stepped backward to make room for Blaine to hop on his pony. He didn't say anything else – he couldn't. He could feel that evil tightness in his chest moving up to his eyes and he didn't want to start doing anything embarrassing here in front of everyone.

Instead, he raised his hand in farewell, a gesture that Blaine returned. Kurt watched as Blaine rode away, eyes never leaving the retreating figure. He remained standing there on the bridge long after Blaine had disappeared from his sight. Seven years, he told himself. He had to wait seven years until he saw Blaine again. And, Kurt thought as one burning tear escaped and made its way down his alabaster cheek, he already missed him.

Double Fun Fact (WOOOOOO!): **Fortuna was a Roman goddess of luck and fortune. In spite of this, she remained prominent even in Christianized Europe. Fons Fortunae, Latin for Fortune's Fountain, is something I made up though. I just took the myth of the wishing well, which has been around for thousands of years, and adapted it a little bit. Myth also says that if someone looks into a wishing well during a midsummer's day, they'll see the face of their spouse reflected there *AHEM*

**Ashtabula is a real city in Ohio, like Lima. I actually did some research and picked this place for a symbolic reason. This city was a very important point on the Underground Railroad, which as used to carry African-American slaves north to Canada before the Civil War. That's all I know for a fact, but it's nice to think that Ashtabula was a more tolerant town concerning people's freedom. I figured if that was true, it would be fitting to send our little Medieval Warbler somewhere that tolerated minorities ;)