A/N: Okay, so this chapter kinda stops abruptly, but that's because I had to stop it somewhere, and if it wasn't here, then… yeah, you get the picture. Thank you so much for all the favs and alerts and stuff, I really appreciate it, guys! And now; ENJOY AN EXCITING CHAPTER! :D

And indeed he would. The lessons started that same afternoon, even though Blaine had tried to make Val wait. The twelve year old had no patience about this. He wanted to fight. And he wanted to fight now. Blaine tried to reason him, but then Merv had said it might as well start today as any other day, and he'd had to give in.

Val wasn't the hardest to train. He was tall and slim, fast and strong. Well, stronger than he looked at least. Which wasn't much. He looked like he'd break if you poked him in the side. And that was the reason why Blaine had been very careful and concerned the first hour of their training. Until Val had hit Blaine in the back with a strength he thought was impossible for such a small child. After four full hours of fighting, Blaine stood bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to remember how to breathe.

"I have no idea…. How you keep moving… But I'm dead tired…" He panted. Val simply smiled at him and gently put his hand on Blaine's shoulder. Then he pushed and Blaine was lying on the ground yet again.

"You're so old," Val laughed and ran home. Blaine grumbled from the ground but soon had to sit up. If I stay here much longer, I'll fall asleep. That kid has too much energy. He got up and walked back to the village. He'd taken Val a little away to a grass-area, where no one normally went. It gave them the privacy they needed. As Blaine thought about Val's fighting skills, he slowly reached the village. He was just a few blocks away from his (Viola had made him say his instead of their) home when something caught his eye.

Blaine saw the beautiful boy balance a lot of bottles. He also saw how said boy tripped slightly and he couldn't help himself from running the few steps over to help. Blaine grabbed a few of the bottles and bent down to get the ones that had landed on the ground. Luckily they weren't broken. He handed the boy his bottles back, but kept his eyes on the ground. He didn't need to see the furious look on the boy's face to know that he didn't want any help. He nodded as if confirming that the bottles were safe and walked away, biting his bottom lip. He really wanted to talk to the boy, but he had no idea what to say. And his last attempt hadn't been anything near successful.

Blaine completely missed the way the brunette opened his mouth and took a step closer. He simply walked away with slumping shoulders. His mood had been ruined yet again. But it was his own fault, he should've known it would be hard to get to know a mute boy with a scary boss. If he was his boss. Karofsky looked like he was more than that - but then again, what did he know? Blaine was only a stranger passing through. A curious stranger.

When he reached home Val was explaining all the things they had been going through in training with great energy. He showed his dad the movements they'd practiced with a proud smile on his lips. Blaine leaned against the doorframe and felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. The little teen had worked hard. Blaine locked eyes with Merv, who nodded at him as a grin stretched across his face. The broad man was happy for his son and he listened carefully to every word his son spoke.

"Oh Blaine, before I forget. Someone brought you this," Viola said and handed him a piece of paper. On the note was a neatly scribbled, "Thank you. ~K" and Blaine felt his stomach do a flip-flop. K? K must be the beautiful boy, right? Unless he'd helped someone else that day. He thought back. He did help the elderly lady carry her old furniture out of the house, but he knew for a fact that her name was Pauline. It's him. It has to be. He sent me a note just to say thank you? Blaine could've slapped himself. Of course he sent you a note, idiot. He's mute!

Viola looked at Blaine with an amused look on her face. She hadn't read the note, of course, but if someone sent notes to the boy, there'd had to be some kind of romance going on. Why ells would someone send a note in this day and age? The only ones who sent notes to each other were lovers. And judging on Blaine's happy expression, there was something going on. This was just what the young boy needed to forget his past love, she thought. Maybe it was that boy who gave me the note? I didn't know Blaine liked that type. Well, I don't really know what type he likes. Maybe I should talk to him.

Blaine didn't notice Viola's silent gaze at all, he just kept re-reading the note. Should he write him back? Or should he try to talk to him again? Maybe he'll actually acknowledge my existence this time, he though with a chuckle.

But Blaine didn't see the boy the next day. Or the one after that. He even went into the nasty little inn to look for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead his thoughts, daydreams and dreams at night were revolved around said boy. He really wanted to see him. To talk to him. Even if he got no responds out of him. He dreamt of talking to the boy. To get to know him. To know his name; and the things he liked to do. But when he still hadn't seen him the third day, he began to wonder if maybe the other teen had left town, or maybe he'd noticed Blaine's longing looks (even though he'd kept them to a minimum and tried to hide them well) and decided to avoid him. Or maybe that Karofsky guy had done something to him. He gritted his teeth at this thought. Strangely he didn't have any trouble imagining the big man hurting the slender boy.

On the third night without seeing the boy, Blaine went early to bed. He knew he'd only sit and pretend to be interested in the conversations until he could find a way to excuse himself anyway. So he said goodnight to Vi, Merv and Val, and went to bed at the same time as Rose. The little girl seemed happy at this, but when Blaine left her by her door, her face dropped a bit. She didn't really think…? Blaine shook the thought off. He so didn't need to think like that about Rose right now.

He fell asleep quickly, but just like the last couple of days he dreams of the strange boy.

Images of holding hands, sleeping together, kissing; sitting under trees and eating together. And just like in all his other dreams the person at the end of the hand and the lips were the beautiful boy. He wished so badly to know his name. But the boy didn't seem to mind that he could only call him 'love' or 'sweetheart'. Even to himself in his own dreams he sounded tacky, but he couldn't seem to find the will to care. Because he was together with this boy. And this boy would never hurt him or betray him.

As these thoughts went through his mind, the images changed. The boy wasn't standing by his side anymore; he was tied to a tree near him.

In front of the brunette stood Aldigree with an evil smirk on his face. In his hands, he held a sword. It was Blaine's own. He'd left it at the castle that night when he had run.

"No. No, please don't." Blaine voice sounded weak and was barely audible. He tried moving closer, but an invisible force held him to the ground.

Aldigree just laughed at him. "Why not, Blaine? Why shouldn't I do it? You left me, remember? You left me to die by the hands of our so called friends back at home."

"No. No, I would never do that!" Blaine defended. "You sold me out!"

"Are you sure about that, Blaine?" Aldigree's voice was hard as stone. "Didn't you ever stop to think that I may have been the one that was sold out? Didn't you ever think the others lied? Didn't you ever stop to think about anyone but yourself?" As his old lover spoke of his biggest and unspoken fears, Blaine fell to his knees.

"No," he cried. "No, I would never leave you like that, if you hadn't… If you didn't…" He struggled to find the words. But it was too late. Aldigree help up the sword to the nameless boy's neck and-

Blaine woke from his dream as a scream reached his ears. This time it wasn't his own. He was covered in sweat from his nightmare, but he forced his eyes open and looked around. He couldn't hear anything unusual. But, he thought, if there's anyone out there… He rose from the bed and took the lamp by his bedside. He lit the candle and made his way down the stairs. He reached the kitchen and poked his head outside the door. He couldn't hear or see anything.

Just as he was about to close the door again a soft sound reached his ears and made him turn around. There was nothing but bushes in front of him. Unless… He walked out of the house and towards the bushes. He pushed a couple of branches aside and had to hold back a gasp. Inside the bushed sat the boy he'd been dreaming of for the past two days and nights. The boy looked hurt. His ears had little cuts all over them, his left hand was badly bandaged and his bottom lip was split and swelling. He cringed together when Blaine held out the lamp to get a better look.

Blaine opened his mouth to address the boy. Ask him what had happened. Ask him if he was alright. But he closed it again. He didn't know the boy's name. The boy seemed to recognize him and then quickly covered himself. Only when he did this Blaine noticed what state his clothes were in. They were ribbed and ruined and covered in dirt. Blaine felt his eyes widen. Had anyone…? But then he shook his head. The boy still had his ears. If someone had tried to abuse him, they hadn't succeeded.

Blaine placed the lamp in the ground and inched closer to the boy; slowly, so he didn't frighten him. The boy pushed himself further back, but Blaine just sighed and reached out to him. He was tired; it was the middle of the night. And he was not in the mood for games. He wanted to be gentle to this boy, but he had to get him inside first.

"Okay," he said calmly. "I'll lift you up," the boy winced even more at this statement, but Blaine ignored it. "And then I'll get you inside. Then we'll… fix this." He reached out towards him and when the boy didn't move any further Blaine put his arms around his back and under his legs.

"Hold on to me," he breathed, but the other teen didn't move an inch.

"Please," Blaine said; his voice soft. "I know I'm asking a lot as a complete stranger, but please hold on to me." This seemed to work, because the boy lifted his arms and grabbed Blaine's shoulder and neck. "Could you, maybe, get the lamp?" The curly haired teen asked. He doubted he'd be able to pick it up when he stood. The boy stretched out and took the lamp in one hand; the other still at Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine may not be tall or broad like many other men, but he was stronger than most. He stood up slowly and tugged the boy in his arms closer to his chest. The brunette gasped a bit as Blaine started walking to the house, and he felt the hand on his shoulder tighten it's grip. They got inside safely, but they Blaine stopped dead in his tracks. Where should he put the boy? He needed to get cleaned up for a start. Blaine looked down at the teen in his arms. He was shivering. And biting his already broken lip.

As I said, abruptly, no? I'm so sorry! But I'll be sure to get the next chapter done soon, so you won't have to wait for long. Oh, and: FINALLY! We've got some Klaine into the picture :D Aren't you happy? I know I am! Thanks for reading! MuchLove.