Warnings: Violence. And no sexy times. I think that should have its own warning.
"I think I can make it on my own, Kurt," harrumphed Blaine trying to put more weight on his knee.
"That's a lovely sentiment, Your Grace," Kurt purred, pulling Blaine closer to his side as they made their way down the empty hallway. "But I'd like to take advantage of you this evening, including sharing a dance or three. If you abuse your knee, that won't happen … and I'll be sorely disappointed. You don't want to disappoint your prince, do you?"
Growling, Blaine rolled his eyes. "No, we certainly can't have that. He'd never let me hear the end of it."
The sound of pounding boots drawing nearer had Kurt maneuvering Blaine behind him as he dropped his hand to rest on the pommel of his sword. His head squire, looking flushed, raced up and dropped a quick half-bow to Kurt.
"Your Highness. Sir Porter sends word the Dukes Anderson and Smythe have escaped custody. There were men lying in wait," the young man sputtered between panting breaths.
Kurt shook his head in disbelief, carefully looking down the hallway both in the direction they'd just come from and the way the squire had taken to reach them. "How could they have known what my father planned?"
"I don't know, Sir. Sir Porter wanted me to reach you so that you would know of the danger and surround yourself with a proper guard. He's giving pursuit and sent Squire Michael to warn your father."
Pulling his sword from his scabbard, Kurt motioned the squire forward. "Help Duke Anderson walk back to the reception. I'll cover you both." Seeing the objection rise in his squire, Kurt raised his hand, palm held out. "I've a decade more experience than you, Joshua."
As Blaine slid his arm around the shoulders of the lanky youth, the squire looked down and gave him a half-smile. "Congratulations on your promotion, Your Grace. I grew up on a small farm south of the Smythe Manor. I'm sure I speak for many of your new subjects when I say I look forward to … this change in leadership."
They resumed walking, Kurt slowing their pace so that he could check the alcoves and other passageways. "Thank you, Squire Joshua. Perhaps after Lady Lopez and His Majesty have spoken with me regarding my new duties, we might meet to discuss your observations. I've only visited the Smythe Manor on a few occasions, usually for some festivity they were hosting. I'd appreciate your insights."
The scuffling of boots on stone behind them drew their attention as a large man dressed entirely in black stepped out of the shadows, cross bow pointed at the prince. Fear snaked through the pit of Blaine's stomach. Without a word, Joshua maneuvered Blaine behind him, carefully pulling a dirk from his boot and placing it Blaine's hand.
Kurt's eyes never left those of their assailants, holding his sword at the ready. "Blaine, the statue of King Aidan hides a passage that will take you to safety. Pull the rope on the left as you enter."
"Kurt," Blaine ground out.
"It appears I have business to attend to," Kurt commented dryly, taking two steps to his left bringing two other attackers into his view. "I'll be with you forthwith."
"Aww," growled one of the men still hidden in shadows, "the prince wants to protect his pretty wounded birdie. It's too bad he'll never fly for you again, Your Highness."
At the loud clanging of steel meeting steel, Blaine tore himself away from the wall and stumbled down the hallway toward the statue of Kurt's great grandfather. The small hidden doorway was easy enough to find, and just as Blaine stepped through, a hand grabbed his shirt and he was thrown against the base of the statue.
One of the assailants straddled his legs, bringing the tip of his sword against Blaine's neck. His hood fell forward, keeping his face hidden in shadow. "I don't think so, Lord Anderson. You're expected elsewhere … for the time being."
Blaine could hear the violent sounds of the fighting behind him as he was waved to standing. A man's dying shriek drew the attention of his captor just long enough for Blaine to grip the handle of the borrowed dirk and drive it home.
It was more difficult than he thought it would be – driving the knife into the man's sternum. And then there was the blood. Swallowing hard, Blaine yanked the dirk from the dying man and shoved him aside, diving for the passage. With a glance towards Kurt, Blaine felt for the rope Kurt had assured him would be there and wrapped his fingers around it.
Finding Blaine's eyes from across the hallway, Kurt parried a sword blow and quickly kicked his attacker away from him. "Pull it," he shouted before meeting the next blow.
The sound of the stone door slamming shut filled Kurt with relief as he fought for his, and Joshua's, lives.
It was pitch black.
Keeping a hand on the rock wall, Blaine held the dirk out in front of him and carefully made his way through the narrow tunnel. Kurt had said it would take him to safety, though Blaine had no idea where in the castle he'd end up.
It was one sliding step after the other as he tried to keep himself calm. His mind spun with questions – Was Kurt okay? Had the king been warned? What exactly had his father been thinking? Who had wanted him and for what purpose? And then the thought of how the new princess might be reacting to the sudden interruption to her wedding reception.
Blaine barked out a semi-hysterical laugh.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and rested against the wall for a moment, uneasy at the skittering sounds he imagined were mice and rats making their own way through the tunnel. Lovely.
Ignoring the subtle throbbing in his knee, Blaine started walking again, keeping his eyes closed as that seemed to make the dark less oppressive. "Kurt will be okay," he murmured to the darkness. "He knows what he's doing. He's a Knight. He trains regularly. He'll be okay, Blaine. Let's just get you out of here."
Suddenly the floor dropped out from below Blaine and he fell forward, slamming both knees into the stone floor as his hands skidded out until his chin smashed down and he saw actual stars. Whimpering in pain, and somewhat stunned, Blaine lay on the cold stone for untold minutes as he waited for the pain to subside.
Slowly he rolled onto his back, staring up into the nothingness. "At least there wasn't anyone around to see that amazing moment of grace, Blaine," he muttered. Feeling something bounce across his leg, Blaine hauled himself up to a sitting position. "Well, except for you Norbert. Wherever the hell you are."
Concerned that the rats might be sizing him up, Blaine grunted and forced himself to stand up and continue walking. Now, thanks to his fall, not only were both knees throbbing, but his hands and chin and head as well. Keeping a vision of Kurt's heated bathing pool in his mind, Blaine put one foot in front of the other and focused on finding the end of this endless tunnel to nowhere.
End Note: Merry Holidays and Happy New Year to all.