Kurt is jumpy the first couple of days after leaving Clarington, keeping the horses close to them at night and insisting that they sleep in shifts, but he relaxes as nothing happens and the days pass uneventfully - too many days for Blaine's comfort. Each day brings him closer to the journey's end and yet, never close enough to complete his task, for better or worse. Every day, the gnawing pit of anxiety grows. Sue's presence looms greater as they pick their way slowly through winding roads, with towering canyons to either side, carved by a roaring river. They pass more and more abandoned villages, where locals had fled after experiencing her wrath. The few people they run into shudder at her name.
Blaine doesn't mention his nervousness to Kurt. It would make it too real and he's reluctant to reveal that he has no idea what he's going to do when he meets Sue. He has had no better ideas come to mind despite his constant worries. Their kingdom has been a peaceful one and Blaine has never had to go to war. He wishes that he possesses his brother's cool composure and quick decisiveness. Strategic planning is not one of Blaine's strongest skills.
He spends time polishing and sharpening his sword, while ruminating in front of the evening fire, forcing himself to imagine slicing the blade through Sue's belly, watching her die in front of him. "She deserves it," he tries to tell himself but his heart squirms. He slides the blade back into the scabbard and stares morosely into the flickering flames.
Kurt, for his part, watches him carefully during these periods of contemplation but never presses Blaine on what's wrong. They trace their path on the map, making joint decisions on directions to go, but despite his earlier expression of misgivings, now Kurt seems completely confident in Blaine's plans. It's that confidence that makes it impossible for Blaine to spill his insecurities, even when he lies next to Kurt in the milky darkness. During the day, Kurt asks him endless questions about the daily functions of the court, eager to learn all about life as royalty, and Blaine regales him with stories about misbehaving dignitaries and visiting distance kingdoms. But at night, as the fire dies and they curl close for warmth beneath the blankets, it's then that Blaine tells Kurt about his jealousy of Cooper growing up and the lingering wish of his parents undivided and unconditional affection - words that he has never dared express, not even to Wesbrook. Kurt in turn talks about his fears of his father dying and memories of Finn, words spilling out in raw emotion.
Blaine loves the nights the best.
He still wakes up most mornings draped across Kurt, his body unconsciously seeking Kurt's solid warmth, despite his valiant efforts every night to keep his distance. Kurt thankfully never seems to mind or express any discomfort – Blaine swears that once there was a moment as he drifted towards consciousness, where he felt Kurt stroking across his back but by the time he had fully awakened, Kurt had stopped and removed his hand. Blaine wouldn't feel guilty about his clinginess if it wasn't for the dreams. His dreams have morphed from the nightmares of Cooper's torture to feverish dreams of Kurt with sun-sparkled skin and pale chest, splashing in the cool water and beckoning him closer. Dreams of Blaine leaning over Kurt spread out over the blankets, tracing his fingers across Kurt's fine jaw, down his throat and feeling him swallow behind his touch. Dreams of Kurt slotting their fingers together and bringing their hands to his perfect mouth and pressing kisses on each knuckle. He wakes before his dreams become anything more than sensual hints that leave him aching with something deeper than just mere want.
His mind refuses to give name to the way that his chest seizes when Kurt laughs freely at his jokes or the way his hands tremble when Kurt's brush his when they prepare the evening meal together. He can't permit himself to daydream of a rosy future where he makes Kurt laugh all the time, when in all likelihood, he is leading them both to either eternal entrapment or death because of his ineptitude. So he only grants himself a few moments as the tantalizing dreams fade away to admire the sweep of Kurt's hair across his brow and the faint outline of his sleep-slacked mouth in the starry darkness, before closing his eyes and directing his thoughts in other directions.
"What do you miss the most about home?" Kurt asks one night, rising up on his arm to look down at Blaine on the blankets.
You. He wants to answer. I'm already missing you because I can't have what I want more than anything and I have never been more at home than with you.
"Cook's pot roast," he lies, "the potatoes are delicious."
Blaine clutches his cloak tighter around his body, trying to wrap the folds closer. He's so cold that it's hard to focus on anything surrounding them. The weather had become unseasonably colder the last couple of days, and now thick snowflakes twist angrily in the howling winds. Kurt had pulled out thick cloaks from his bags – Blaine marvels again at Kurt's tight packing skills as more than one necessity had appeared from its pockets over the course of their trip – when the storm began, but the wind still seeps through and his hands are ice where they clutch Birdy's reins. Fearing injury to the animals, he and Kurt had dismounted to guide their animals against the wind, although the wind velocity appears to be increasing, causing Blaine to stumble. It's been hours and it doesn't feel like they've made any progress – for all that he knows, they've been walking around in circles. He can barely make out the trees surrounding them, and he glances back often to make sure that he hasn't lost Kurt and Pav in the storm.
"See anything?" He yells at Kurt through the swirling snow.
" I can't see the road any more!" He hollers back. "We should stop."
"We'll freeze without shelter."
"We're freezing anyway. There's a clump of trees up there, next to those rocks - we can wait out the storm there."
He's barely slept the last couple nights, dreaming again of Cooper who screams in agony and causes Blaine to wake up in a cold sweat. The lack of sleep has been draining him, clouding his mind. He leads Blackbird under the thicket of trees where the wind reduces somewhat to a whistling roar. It's no warmer and Blaine has difficulty releasing Birdy's reins to tie her to the tree, his leather riding gloves doing little from protecting him from the penetrating cold.
"You're so cold!" Kurt tuts and tucks Blaine's hands between his, blowing on them and rubbing briskly.
"I di-di-didn't exp-pect a b-b-bliz-zard in Ju-July." His teeth chatter hard as he burrows more into Kurt's heat.
"The mountains are always a little unpredictable." Kurt agrees, hugging Blaine closer. They stand quietly for a few minutes until Blaine's chattering eases. Blaine tucks his chin into Kurt's neck and he'd be happy to never leave this position, breathing in Kurt's scent, surrounded by Kurt's strong arms and firm chest. His eyes droop as exhaustion overtakes him. Kurt notices and rubs his hands briskly down Blaine's arms. "Come on, let's get out the blankets and your canvas and see if we can wait out the storm."
They set up a modified camp as quickly as possible. Their horses huddle together, stamping their feet, as Blaine lashes the canvas up above their heads. Even under the canopy protection, they tremble.
"The horses seem scared." Blaine remarks, and Kurt looks up from where he is pulling out their pile of blankets from his packs. Kurt runs his hands over Pavarotti's long neck, murmuring lightly to the horse. "You nervous, girl?" She nickers in response. "There's something nearby."
Blaine starts. "Here?"
"Not right here, no, but close. The wind is malevolent."
"It's Sue."
"Yes. I think it is." Kurt confirms, as he throws a blanket over the two of them. They curl up close to defend from the encompassing cold. Blaine sits against a tree, staring out into the premature darkness. They don't speak, their somber mood reflecting the approaching reality.
He drifts in consciousness, the snow churning in front of his eyes. In the distance, he sees a flicker of light, faintly hued a sickly green. He strains his eyes, trying to focus. There. He nudges Kurt gently. "There. Do you see?"
"Yes."
"This isn't a normal storm, is it."
He's not surprised by Kurt's affirmation. "No, it's not."
Blaine tips his head on Kurt's shoulder. This is it. He thinks and all he feels is a deep exhaustion, that knot of fear in his stomach strangely absent. He just wants it to be over. "I don't think it's going to get better. The storm. All of it. Kurt-"
Kurt tightens his arm around Blaine. "I know."
"You don't have to go any further. You don't owe me anything."
"I'm coming with you."
"I don't want you to risk your life for me."
Kurt places his finger on Blaine's lips to stop further protests. "I'm coming with you." He repeats.
Blaine nods numbly, too tired to argue and secretly relieved. It's selfish, putting Kurt in danger's way for his own comfort but he needs Kurt, needs his presence and strength. "You've been such a good friend to me, Kurt. Thank you."
Kurt's stiffens slightly beside him but his gaze is warm when Blaine looks up at him. "Any time."
He's getting warmer, cocooned in Kurt's arms and surrounding blankets. He blinks his eyes to try to prevent their droop. "We shouldn't fall asleep. 'sn't safe, we'll freeze. Hafta go storm the castle..." He mumbles.
"You need rest, Blaine. I'll take watch."
"But…"
"Sleep, honey."
Blaine jerks awake, lifting his head off the pillowed blankets. The wind blusters around him, shrill but unchanged, and he can't figure out what brought him out of his deep sleep. He is groggy and disoriented and uncertain with how long he has slept, but his body feels unrested. The weather provides no clues as it is still gloomy and cold, with that hint of moss green color tinging the air that keeps catching in the corner of his eyes, confirming the unnatural weather phenomenon. The only change is that he's no longer slumped against Kurt, and a quick look around the small shelter confirms his absence. Pavarotti is also gone; Blackbird stands alone under the canopy.
Blaine struggles to his feet, discarding the blankets to look around. The snow under his feet has been trampled to packed snow, but otherwise, beyond their little sanctuary, the storm has continued, snow piling in large heaps.
"Kurt. Kurt!" Silence greets him. His voice becomes louder, more desperate. "Kurt!"
He peers out from under the canvas. Any footprints have been buried under the inches of accumulating snow and there's no evidence of Kurt. "Kurt!" He calls out again. He turns desperately around the small shelter, but there aren't any hidden crevices. Blackbird snuffs gently against his head. He leans against her neck, forcing sudden tears back. "Where did he go, Birdy? He left you and me behind."
He can't think, can't process, and at the same time, his mind swirls with questions and panic. He doesn't know what to do. Why did Kurt leave? Especially after promising that he would be with Kurt until the end. Did Sue take Kurt? Why only kidnap Kurt and not him, too?
No, with Pav's absence, it means that Kurt purposefully left him. Left him alone when he needs Kurt so badly. He doesn't know what to do. Should he try to find Kurt? How can he find Kurt in this blizzard? Where would Kurt go?
He stares out into the bleak landscape, searching for some sign of Kurt out there in the darkness, but there is none. His eyes fixate on that flickering light in the distance. Sue is there. He is supposed to face her and rescue Cooper today and he thought he could do it with Kurt at his side. Without him, his courage peters out and he can't help the tears that drip down his cheeks.
The cold seeps back into his bones, mingling with the paralyzing chill of helplessness, and he sinks down into the pooled blankets in despair. He feels so very very alone and lost and more than anything, he just wants to go home.
What is he supposed to do?
Blaine doesn't know how long he sits there, the panic and cold freezing his insides, choking on the tears that won't stop running down his cheeks. Time creeps past and Kurt doesn't return.
The tears dry out and he finally stirs from his cocoon of despair. He has no choice, not really. Just because Kurt has abandoned him, he can't use that as an excuse to discard his quest. Blaine gathers up the blankets, throwing them over his horse - his one steady, faithful companion - while wrapping another across his shoulders. He's numb to the cold now, but it'll be worse out there. "Come on, Birdy, we have to find him."
"Find who?" Kurt ducks down under the canvas, Pavarotti trailing behind, appearing like a hallucination. Hallucinations didn't stamp their feet to remove snow, did they? "You didn't sleep long."
"Kurt." He breathes, trembling. "You... You. I woke up and you were gone."
"I wanted to take a closer look at that light we saw. I'd hoped to be back before you woke. You were sleeping so soundly that I didn't want to wake you."
Blaine's overwhelmed by the whiplash of emotions and he can't do more than just stare at Kurt, trying to convince himself that he is real.
Kurt seems oblivious to Blaine's internal breakdown. "You were right, though. There's a castle, less than a half-league from here. I didn't dare get closer, but we should be able to slip around to the back." He pauses in front of Blaine, reaching his fingers out as if to caress Blaine's tear-stained cheek, withdrawing them hastily just before they touched. Not oblivious, then. "Blaine. What's wrong?"
He's embarrassed to admit his emotional spiral. "You were gone. And I didn't know what to do. I thought-" He can't finish.
Kurt grabs his hand and squeezes it, grounding Blaine in his tangible presence. "I'm never saying goodbye to you. I gave you my promise and I mean it."
Blaine nods, not trusting his ability to speak around that lump of emotion still lodged in his chest, and squeezes back.
"Oh, I managed to find some thicker gloves in the bottom of the bags, so no more cold icicle hands, Mister." Kurt shakes his finger as he hands over the gloves.
Blaine shakes his head fondly. "The treasures that that bag produces, I swear, Kurt."
"I'm prepared for everything," Kurt protests good naturedly. "What would you possible do without me?"
"Obviously transform into a frozen weeping mess." He smiles wanely and Kurt's soft look warms him up more than the gloves.
They feed the horses before packing up, Kurt arguing that they should rest a little longer, Blaine pushing to just leave. He's too wound up from all of the stress of the day to rest any further. He wants to get Cooper and get out of there as soon as possible.
Once they drop the canvas and move from their little clump of trees, the weather is still ferocious. Kurt leads them confidently forward, pushing through the mounds of snow, drawing closer to the threatening light. They wind their way down to the valley floor, where the thick forest thins, the castle suddenly looming tall and menacing over them. It's cold and uninviting, the yellow-green glow emanating from the tower spire as a warning.
Blaine steps forward and it's as if he's pushed through a curtain. The abrupt silence is more unnerving than the howling winds. The icy cold suddenly vanishes and the ground under his feet and surrounding the castle is bare of snow, as if the storm is giving wide berth and for the first time in days, Blaine can see sky above.
"If we leave the horses behind here," Kurt gestures, "we can climb the trees closest to the wall there and make our way into the castle."
"No." Blaine shakes his head, still staring at the castle, his cloak heavy and suffocating in the sudden humidity. "No, we go to the front."
"What?"
"We go to the front door and ask for Sue."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." He looks over at Kurt. "This is our only chance. Talking to her directly, negotiating for Cooper's release. We have to try."
Kurt looks at him for a long moment and nods. "Okay. It was your idea to storm the castle anyway."
Blaine laughs weakly. "I'm better at diplomacy than storming castles. At least I hope so."
They leave the horses with their cloaks in the corner of the clearing. Blaine rubs Birdy's nose one more time for good luck (he refuses to think how this might be goodbye) before he straps on his sword and scabbard, and straightens his shirt. He glances one more time over at Kurt, who appears as pale and nervous as he feels, but gives Blaine a firm nod.
Dead leaves and branches crunch under their feet as they walk towards the large gates. The wind and snow may have stopped and the temperatures warmed up, but the air is perfumed with the stench of death.
Blaine straightens his back and walks as confidently as all of those years of training have taught him. He thinks of his brother and forces down his nerves. He can do this. He has to.
A/N: Two chapters, because I forgot to upload a couple of days ago. Thanks for reading and commenting!