Kurt turned to ensure that his prince was following him, and found Blaine to be standing in the doorway to the cottage, looking around with an expression of bemused interest on his handsome, open face. He ran a hand through his dark curls and seemed to get his fingers tangled, tugging on his hair, and it occurred to Kurt that in the past few days this man had travelled from the land beyond the woods to have an arranged marriage, had his bride stolen, gone deeper into the Woods than anyone of sense would and now been abducted.

It might have been because Kurt hadn't had much interaction with other adults in while, but despite the fact that for all intents and purposes Blaine was his prisoner, he felt a sort of protectiveness. This, then, was the feared and wicked Shadow Prince – a sweet-natured man with golden eyes.

'Are you alright?' he asked him, and Blaine blinked and then bestowed upon him a wide, honest smile.

'You're absolutely not what I expected. Look at this place! It's beautiful.' He gestured around to the stone and wood walls surrounding them, to Kurt's collections of books and art, fabric and gems. 'It's... exciting, and terrifying. I have no idea why I'm trusting you, or why I'm not fighting you and trying to get away.'

Kurt snorted and started climbing the stairs to his attic room, feeling Blaine move to follow him.

'It's not complicated, Blaine. You've spent your whole life without anyone ever surprising you, just one of a thousand people who always do exactly what they ought to do. This might just be a delayed rebellion on your part.'

'Letting myself be kept prisoner? I fail to see how that makes me wicked.'

Kurt turned, just enough so he knew Blaine could see his mouth, and rested his hand on the doorknob to his room. 'Well, my prince, if you're looking for someone to teach you wickedness, you've come to the right man.'

And why would he go and say something like that? He stepped into the cold, bright light in the roof-top room, lit by light from the huge windows he'd cast to send glittering, prism-rainbow light. His bed was a sprawling sort of nest in the corner, kept neat and pretty with his favourite colours and fabrics, and beside it was his altar and his work-bench, the equipment which allowed him to channel the power in him, and the floor was painted with dozens of sigils and patterns. The ceiling was draped with soft fabrics and small paper birds Avery had cut out and attached there with strands of silk so that they drifted in the breeze.

The room was designed to feel outdoors, with fresh air and the scent of the woods, a concession to the fact that Kurt's sorcery would doubtless prefer he sleep under a tree outside rather than in the comfort of his own home. He walked to the altar, grabbing a spell and checking everything he'd left there was still in place and Avery hadn't been playing with it, and turned back to find Blaine standing by one of the windows, eyes shut, breathing in the scent of the freesias Avery had collected for Kurt and placed there in a jam jar.

'I don't see much wickedness, Lord Kurtis.'

'Kurt. Just Kurt, for the love of Chaos. And don't speak too soon.' He closed in on Blaine, leaning into his body space and feeling the other man tense even as he tied the leather thong around his neck, letting the spell tied to it rest in the dip at the centre of Blaine's collarbone.

Blaine's fingers raised to stroke it, his eyes wide and wary as the pad of his thumb ran across the smooth black stone with its druidic engravement. 'What is this?'

Kurt tensed. 'I don't like direct questions, Blaine. You need to remember that I am not a creature to be fucked with – I do not appreciate being commanded.' He and Blaine stared at each other for a moment, until the magick forced its way up Kurt's throat and he snapped, 'it's a spell. It binds you to me.'

'In what way? Is this the first spell you've cast on me?'

Bastard. Kurt – never exactly known for his patience – slammed his arm into Blaine's chest, focing him back against the wall with his neck exposed, and growled. 'Stop it, little Shadow-boy.'

'Make me. There's a reason people fear my name as much as yours.' Those beautiful, soft gold eyes suddenly seemed cold and calculating, and Kurt shouldn't have found that even more attractive. 'Answer me.'

The magick was already fighting him, trying to get him to speak truth, but he fought it just so that Blaine wouldn't get the pleasure of dominating him. 'I can promise you that you do not want me to ever feel the need to prove I am bigger, and badder, than anything that cares to piss me off. I am not a good man, pet. If you threaten me, I will make you suffer for it.'

Blaine's smile was slow and bared even, white teeth. 'Will you answer me?'

Kurt roared, the noise of the answers – of the truths – when they were not released, and managed. 'Yes. It binds you to me with my power, makes you an extension of me – I cannot control you, but you cannot leave lest I permit it. You will feel shadows and echoes of my pain and pleasure, to remind you of the spell – you will die if you try to deny it.' His eyes flashed with anger; the truth Blaine had forced from him was overly detailed for having been kept in too long. 'And I have cast spells to bind you, to levitate and silence you, and the one you now have around your neck, but nothing else.'

'That's a lie. You did something to me the very moment I saw you – what?'

This surprised Kurt so much, he actually began to relax, the discomfort of the magick fading with the new question. 'Nothing. Why? What did you feel?'

A pale flush crept up the skin of the prince's neck, and Kurt watched it with interest, before stepping back. 'You will stay in this room, and you will not touch any of my equipment.'

'This... this is your room.'

'Yes, and the only other room in the house, downstairs, is where my daughter sleeps. Despite the lovely first impression you've made, Blaine, I'm not allowing someone they call the Shadow Prince share a room with my daughter.'

'I thought you said nothing could hurt her?'

Kurt rolled his eyes. 'You have a difficult relationship with your family, I gather. You should then have an understanding of how much damage someone can do simply from trying to hurt you, even if they do not seem to succeed.'

Blaine sighed, then began unfastening his quiver and sword, and removing blades from various places around his person. Kurt sat down in the armchair in the corner and watched, considering the definite possibility that he was underestimating this man in some way.

'Right. Unarmed, cursed, and a prisoner. Would you also like to shave my head or tattoo your name on my body?'

Kurt gave a bark of laughter, and saw the corners of Blaine's lips quirk upwards, as though he couldn't help it. 'I'd never get rid of your hair, ringlet like that are a gift. And I'm undecided about the tattoo – I'll get back to you.'

Blaine crossed the room and sat by Kurt's feet, rolling his shoulder to stretch the muscle, their disagreement forgotten. 'Are you planning on telling me what's happening with Rachael?'

'Yes. Are you planning on telling me why you were so hell-bent on marrying a woman you don't love?'

Blaine's half-smile faded, and Kurt felt ridiculously bereft at its loss. 'I've fought in wars – I'm the expendable second son, and so I was shipped off to lead men and women to death. My family are questionable, and even as I fought for the kingdom where I was born, I can't feel sentiment for a place where anyone different or unique is punished. I wanted something that was all my own, something gentle and kind and I wanted someone who would give a damn whether I lived or died. Does that answer your question?'

Kurt felt like there was a bruise behind his ribs, a small, stretching pain that Blaine was pressing on. 'It does. He gives her that.'

The expression on Blaine's face was so broken Kurt didn't think, just slid down off of the chair to join him on the floor, where he pressed his hand to the other man's back, trying to communicate comfort when his only experience of doing so was with Avery.

'They're so happy together, it's absolutely sickening.' He sighed. 'I am sorry for this. It's just for a few days, and as you've probably already discovered, I'm not exactly good at playing well with others. I don't mean to force you to tell me anything.'

'It's fair. You can't help but tell me the truth, so I don't see the problem with being honest with you.' Kurt tensed, and Blaine smiled at him – he wasn't sure when the prince had become so close that Kurt can feel the warmth of him, the scent of pine and leather. 'I'm not an idiot, Kurt. Is it something to do with being a witch? The truth?'

'Yes, it is, and if you ever tell anyone, I'll gut you,' Kurt said pleasantly, stroking a circle absently on Blaine's back and relaxing. 'I'm not the sort of person who gets to judge you, so I'll stop. After all, I had Avery mostly because I was lonely, and even then... loving her crept up on me. Her mother died in childbirth, and I was in mourning – I had to take Avery away, and hide her, and look after her, but I didn't register anything. Then, one night, she had a fever and wouldn't stop crying, and when the morning came and it broke, it hit me like a blow to the chest. Love hurts like hell, and makes you weak, and keeps you strong. I could never think poorly of someone who goes looking for it.'

'You don't have to answer but... do you miss her?'

'Avery's mother?'

'I wasn't in love with her, Blaine. I've never loved anyone but Avery, and Fynnian.' He realised that his hand was still moving, gentling the other man, and that Blaine was turned towards him, looking at him with intense golden eyes which had a strange effect on him. 'I miss her. After I ran away from my home, she was the first person I'd ever met who liked me the way that I am. I never lied to her, and I started to like it.'

'I thought you couldn't lie?' Blaine's smile was so bright it was nearly blinding, and Kurt couldn't remember the last time someone had teased him.

'Not directly. And since Bryttany died, I've tried to remember to always be who I am. So... I'm sorry I've been a bit of a bastard.'

'I live in court, where everyone's sole purpose in life is to follow me around like love-struck puppies. You're... refreshing.'

This made him chuckle, and he rose, grateful and reluctant all at once to leave the warmth of Blaine's closeness and strange, bright eyes. 'Four days here, and then if I receive notice, you'll be free to leave. Let's both pray that it isn't longer.'

'Why?'

'If the first snow falls, you'll be trapped here for the winter.' Kurt rolled his neck, suddenly very tired, and beginning to think about the mound of spells he needed to cast in the kitchen downstairs, to afford some last supplies for the winter. 'I worry about leaving Avery on her own for too long.'

He walked to the door, and turned to see Blaine hadn't gotten up from the floor, but was looking at Kurt with a strange, surprised expression as he toyed with the charm at his neck.

'Well? Are you coming? She's going to want you to teach her swordplay – just remind her she's not allowed to kill anyone until she's thirteen, even if they're asking for it, and you'll be fine.'

And when he left, he found himself hoping that he would be followed.

Exams are over! I'm going to be posting with quite a bit more regularity – you should expect a little fluff in the next, and sorry for the weight of conversation in this one, but I've been trying to get back in their heads after our time apart. Reviews are love! xx