Thank you billions to Masks and Teapots and especially to ExotikaHollow1379 for saving my life! :D Thank you! You're incredible!
Right, the story will be smooth from now on…
Please review! I can't tell you how much they mean! And they make my typing faster :P Thank you
SPOILER: There's a handsome prince on the horizon…
Hope you enjoy! PVG24601xxx
Chapter Five-In which Kurt's life is threatened by beauty products…
As the mirror yet again informed Queen Rachel that Kurt was still alive and well, she almost smashed it. "How? How does he keep escaping?" she seethed, face red with anger. "That brat must die! He must! There must be a way!"
"No offence, O Queen, but you're really not very good at this whole murder thing…"
Giving a hiss of rage, the Queen stormed over to her window and looked out on her kingdom, foot tapping impatiently. "What would Barbra Streisand do?" she wondered aloud.
She had to try again. And now-now, it was personal.
Magic…
Queen Rachel smiled an evil smile…
Not a week later, Kurt happily mopped the floors, singing especially well today, dancing like a nymph as he did. Pavarotti sang sweetly on his shoulder. It was raining hard-but Kurt didn't mind. Rain made the flowers grow.
"Who is that girl I see?
Staring straight back at me?
Why is my reflection someone I don't know?
Somehow I cannot hide
Who I am, though I've tried
When will my reflection show who I am inside?"
Putting the mop into the wooden pail of water, he leaned thoughtfully on the handle, gazing dreamily into the distance.
"When will my reflection show who I am inside?…" the countertenor finished breathily, letting out a small sigh. "Do you think he'll come today, Pavarotti?" He didn't need to explain who he was talking about. Nowadays, he talked of little else.
Pavarotti tweeted back.
"No, you're right, I have to be patient. But I know he'll come. One day," Kurt twirled the mop around, blissfully imagining his knight in shining armour holding him close in his strong arms…
Miles away, in the highest room of the tallest tower, Queen Rachel raised her arms, and closed her eyes. She focused her mind, emptying it of all else, and visualising the target. The boy had such perfect skin, enviably so…now. Squeezing her eyes even tighter, she concentrated. Making big, windmill movements with her purple-robed arms, she muttered a strange enchantment, tongue twisting eerily over the unearthly words…
"Oh!" Kurt squeaked in surprise as he looked at the clock. "Oh my goodness, it's three o'clock already! My goodness, time flies when you're having fun, hey, Pavarotti?"
The bird cheeped back enthusiastically, nodding his small yellow head.
"Time for my afternoon skin routine," Kurt sang, making his way upstairs to the bathroom, his tweeting companion fluttering devotedly behind him. Even with a mad, insane, psychotic monarch after him, there was no reason to let himself go. Moisturising was of the utmost importance. Humming, he found his favourite pumpkin-shaped glass bottle of Cinderella's Fabulous Glowing Enchanted Moisturiser, hidden behind Sam's blonde hair dye (Kurt knew it). Placing it beside the sink, Kurt turned away and began to scrape his fringe back, using a headband.
With an almighty shout of dark magical words, Queen Rachel clapped her hands above her head-and sparks flew from the impact, shooting high into the sky and exploding in a shower of scarlet glittering lights…
Beside the sink-the thick, pink cream in the bottle, balanced precariously by the taps…turned the same blood red…
"And in years to come we'll reminisce
How we came to love
And grew and grew love
Since first we knew love through true love's kiss!"
As Kurt sang, back turned-Pavarotti gave a great tweet of shock and fear as he noticed the change. He knew what had happened: poison! Someone was trying to poison his sweet human! He recognised it-this was the deadliest poison in the land. Just a mere touch was enough to kill you! Anxiously, he fluttered his wings, wondering what to do. Humans didn't understand normal talking-and he couldn't make sense of their strange noises either. As he panicked, he found himself wishing that humans had a proper voice…oh God, the colour was fading! The baby pink was returning! The moisturiser looked normal! It was too late…
But he had to save his gentle human. Somehow!
As Kurt turned back around-he frowned. For some reason, Pavarotti was doing a sort of strange dance, hopping about, wings spread, tweeting urgently, like he was trying to say something.
"Hey, what's wrong, honey?" He was a little amused at the bird's weird antics. Pavarotti gestured sharply with his head to the moisturiser, almost screaming. "No! No no no!" he squealed at the top of his lungs in his own cheeping bird language. "No, Kurt, thou must shun this cursed concoction! 'Tis a trap! A trap! The work of witches! Take heed, gentle sir, heed my warning! Let not thyself near, I beg!"
"What's with all this tweeting?" Kurt asked him, concerned, taking a step toward him.
"No! Away, away! Come you not near, compassionate child! For 'tis certain death awaits thou!"
After a moment-Kurt laughed fondly. "Crazy bird…" Shaking his head, he reached for the bottle…
Pavarotti gave a last, mighty screech-and knew what he had to do. Zooming as fast as he possibly could towards the terrible pink cream, he landed on the rim of the glass. Using his sharp beak, he ripped out a few of his feathers. Ignoring the pain, hastily, and in the nick of time, he dropped them into the liquid.
Upon touching the moisturiser-the fluffy yellow feathers hissed, smoked-then disintegrated. Right before their eyes.
All that was left was a few specks of black ash.
Kurt gave a huge gasp. "Oh my goodness! What…? What happened?"
Pavarotti breathed a sigh of relief, wiping his forehead with his wing.
Kurt was frightened, studying the bottle with confusion. "It's not supposed to do that…Oh my goodness! Queen Rachel!" The boy's eyes were wide with fear. "You saved my life, Pavarotti!"
Gratefully, he kissed the little bird on it's beak. "Thank you!"
"A pleasure, noble cuz," he tweeted. "But one hopes he does never have the cause to do it again,"
"Wait!" Kurt gasped again. "Was this…poisoned?"
Pavarotti sighed again. He'd have to draw him a freaking picture…
"Poison?" came a voice from the hall. The seven Glee clubbers had returned from work. They came running into the bathroom, each with a worried expression, even Santana.
"What happened?" asked Finn urgently.
Kurt told them the whole story. By the end of it-it was hard to tell who looked more scared, them-or Kurt himself. In the sheer mess and terror of it all, he broke down in tears.
"Thank Beyonce you're safe," said Mercedes, hugging him hard.
"Thank Kermit Pavarotti was here," Rory sounded shaken.
"You're truly not safe anywhere…" Finn mused. Kurt looked terrified, tears dripping down his cheeks.
"Queen Rachel in the bathroom with moisturising cream…" Artie muttered. Everyone shuddered, as if it had gotten cold.
"We'll put protective enchantments around the house," Mike got up. "Come on, Santana," He and the Hispanic left, going to find their wands. Santana patted the countertenor comfortingly on the arm on her way out.
"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience," Kurt felt awful.
"Hey-that's what friends are for, right? We love you, Kurt," Mercedes told him, giving him a kiss on his hair. He hugged Mercedes back, trying to put a lot of unsaid things into it. She seemed to understand. "Everything's going to be okay," she told him.
But, unknown to Kurt-she shot Finn a worried glace over his head. Her face read plainly.
But Finn was not going to give in. "Nothing's gonna harm you," he promised, firmly. "Not while I'm around,"
Rachel slumped at her desk, banging her head on the table top. "Why-doesn't-he-stay-dead!" she raged, crashing her head with each word. "I wipe out the whole of Vocal Adrenaline in an afternoon-but one boy! One lousy little soprano! Why-won't-he-play-nice?"
Schue watched warily from the wall. He wondered if he should just go back to lying…
"If a job's worth doing, I should do it myself!" the mad Queen declared. "In person! And make damn sure the little brat doesn't escape!" Standing up, she strode over to her cauldron, stirring it furiously.
Then-she saw it.
Left stood alone on a little wooden table. Perfect and shiny. Looking absolutely delicious.
A pure, red apple…
That wicked smile played around her lips. Voice far quieter-dangerously so-so deadly that a spider on the ceiling scuttled away, frightened-she began to speak. Velvety smooth, she took up the apple, twisting it in her hands. She positively beamed with glee...
"I will go myself to this house…and make sure Kurt Hummel never sings another note!"