A/N: This is an original "fairytale". Enjoy!

Once upon a time, there was a small village thriving with people that lived under the rule of a king and his family in the middle of a kingdom far, far away. For the most part, it was a normal town, yet they had a secret. If you followed a path leading out from the main hall, past the large elm tree and into the woods, you'd reach a clearing containing a perfectly circular pond that was said to be enchanted. Indeed it was, considering that from the time the sun would rise to the time it set, it would turn gold; a shining, aureate liquid gently lapping just a few feet within the quaint wooden house nearby.

It was fabled that perhaps the magical pond was related to the disappearance of the prince. Many years ago, the king and his wife tearfully announced that his son was nowhere to be found, and implored everyone within the kingdom to search for him. Since so much time had passed without even a whisper of the boy, everyone presumed him dead. Even the royal family seemed to have given up, and they announced that the younger son, a wicked boy who reveled in bloodbath. No one investigated the pond, however, which began to turn gold around the time of the prince's disappearance. Because of this relation, no one went near it in fear that something would happen to them. That was also a reason why no one went up to the house sitting next to the pond; they were too afraid to find out who or what lived inside.

Occasionally, the healer would travel past the home on the way to the woods to gather herbs, and he'd see a young man sitting at the edge of the pond, staring at the molten, precious metal. He thought nothing of it, although he didn't recognize the boy, and went on his way, not informing anyone of the stranger.

This boy's name was Kurt Hummel, and he, in fact, lived in the little abode with his father, Burt. Burt often traveled to other parts of the kingdom with his old horse, Tire, to trade the vegetables he grew in his little garden with other villages. He was wary of the nearby village, for they had exiled his father for trying to encourage the creation of fictitious literature, which was silently condemned in the society. Thus, Burt and Kurt moved into the little home and lived by themselves; Burt cut Kurt off from all outside communication. This seclusion was painful for Kurt, as he yearned to explore the world and meet new people, so he buried himself into the hundreds of stories his grandfather created, the ones Burt hid under the rug in the corner of the kitchen. He traveled to so many different places, from the woods near his home to the stars above. Typically, however, they were set in the woods, where children would get lost. Sometimes they had happy endings, but most of the time they had sad endings. Kurt didn't mind it, though: he liked to make up his own alternate endings. He especially loved reading about the boys—for some reason, he liked boys better than girls. This hobby was almost as good as sitting beside the pond.

Kurt remembered the first time he saw the pond. Ever since he could remember, it turned that strange deep caramel—to him, it almost seemed natural for ponds to be that auric color—and he would go outside and watch it churn against the deep emerald grass. Kurt would take a story outside with him, reading the scroll while he listened to it gently ripple and ferment next to him. Sometimes he'd simply stare at it, searching for his reflection, a sign of life, anything within the viscous waters. Burt advised him to never, ever touch it after he noticed his son's obsession. Kurt was not exactly sure why his father was so adamant about this, but he obeyed nonetheless. It was bad enough that he was disobeying him by reading the stories.

One blindingly sunny day, after Burt had been gone for a few days, Kurt decided to have a picnic outside. He cooked himself some soup over the fire in the fireplace, grabbing a blanket he made and bringing it outside to set up while he waited for his food to finish. While he set the blanket down, however, something strange caught his eye.

There was something in the pond!

Kurt rushed to its side, desperately scanning the entire perimeter of the body of water. Yes, there was a different motion to it, and—aha! A shadow flitting in front of him! He moved his own body, making sure it wasn't his own; it was not, as danced almost like a flame. He examined it further, his nose almost touching the odd substance. It appeared to be an outline of—what? It had legs, arms, a head—it was a human body!

He jumped back, astonished by his discovery. He fell on his bottom, feeling a strange rush of emotion explode within him. Yes, there was a body in there, but what if—what if—it was somehow alive? It was a magical pond, Kurt was sure of that, so perhaps it didn't work the same way that water did. He began to wonder if it was possible for him to retrieve the body.

This thought pestered Kurt so much that he forgot all about his soup and began to search through his mind, trying to find a solution. By the time he came up with one, one that seemed so absurd, the sun had already left the sky, painting it a deep indigo with bright white specks twinkling around a bright full moon. Part of the plan was to hold a nightlong vigil beside the water, so he snuggled up under the blanket with the cool grass cushioning his back.

He slept fitfully, waking up every so often to watch the water for any developments. Nothing happened throughout the night. He knew that by daybreak, he'd have to perform the rest of the plan swiftly, for he believed that Burt would be returning later in the day. Kurt wasn't entirely sure why, but this event seemed to be a huge turning point in his life. Something big had come, something that may be the answer to the anomaly that was the pond.

Dawn reached her fluorescent fingers up into the sky, clashing against the dissipating navy. Kurt studied the pond intensely, keeping his eyes glued to its waters. It was hard to see from the lack of lighting, but he watched as a golden glaze languidly began to cover the surface. It began to illuminate the remaining water, revealing—

It was a body—the body of a young man, his eyes shut, his body curled up into a floating ball. Before Kurt even realized what he was doing, he quickly stripped down to his underwear and jumped into the water, instinct taking over the fact that he had no idea how to swim.

He felt his lungs begin to burn as he felt his fingers finally brush against the solid object his deduced was the boy: he fearfully opened his eyes, praying that the gold would not blind him. Thankfully, the gold had only reached the diameter of the pond. Kurt grabbed a handful of the rich, soggy material the boy was wearing and kicked his legs, struggling to swim up to the closing gap.

Kurt wished that he was stronger and not so scrawny, for it was very difficult to carry a whole other body with him while he felt his own body becoming leaden with prostration. However, he felt a peculiar tingling in his fingers, which were touching the boy's waxy skin. This urged him to continue on, and he slowly felt his efforts begin to pay off: the surface was nearing, his chest was about to explode—

With an abnormally substantial amount of strength, Kurt hoisted the boy out of the water. He felt something cut into his foot as he dragged himself out, crying out after he fell into the welcoming land. His entire body shuddered as he coughed, gasping for air. Then he remembered why he jumped into the water in the first place.

"Where—where am I?" a voice called out quietly from behind him. Kurt turned around on his knees.

The boy was lying down, his arms at his sides and his legs spread slightly. He was a little shorter than Kurt, but appeared to be about the same age as him. His eyes were closed, his rosy lips open as he slowly breathed in and out. He was wearing gorgeous clothes which were drying at a rapid, unnatural pace, clothes that were—

"Fit for a king," Kurt whispered. Could it be…?

Kurt crawled over to the boy, leaning over and placing a hand over the boy's: it was quickly heating up as opposed to how frigid and dead it felt when he first touched his skin. Suddenly, the boy's eyes fluttered open, finally resting on Kurt's eyes, which widened in fear.

They were gold—the exact gold of the pond. They, however, were very warm and inviting, unlike the water, which seemed so untouchable.

"Hello, there," the boy said softly. "You saved me."

"Wha-what happened to you?" was all Kurt could muster. The boy groaned, screwing up his eyes as he tried to remember what happened.

"Well, I was walking through the woods last I can remember, I don't know how long ago it was, when a man met me by a strawberry bush. He invited me to have some lunch with him, since a boy like me should be very tired after traveling the entire day—how he knew that, I'd no clue. Anyway, I allowed him to lead me to where I thought his house was, but he actually led me to this pond. That house wasn't there though." The boy sat up with great effort, pointing to Kurt's house; Kurt quickly placed his hand on his back to support him. The boy gave him such an ardent look that Kurt felt his heart turn to jelly. "He then told me, with this mad look in his eyes, that this would be his greatest story yet, and threw me into this pond."

"Hold on a second," Kurt interrupted, trying to piece the story together. "'Greatest story yet…oh no! I know exactly who that was!" he cried with dismay. "It was my grandfather!" Kurt could hardly believe it. It had to be him!

"Then how can I trust you?" The boy's eyes narrowed: they still were breathtaking, even when they raged with an angry flame.

"I'm not my grandfather. I hardly remember him; he died many years ago. Please, though, I implore you to go on. How did the pond turn gold?"

The boy seemed to forgive him. "I remember seeing someone before I felt myself losing air. He threw something over the water, which made it turn funny. I felt my body fill with air, but…I couldn't breathe or do anything. It was like I was under a deep sleep, but..not. The man, his face—it was somewhat like yours." He gave Kurt a questioning look.

"Maybe…maybe it was my father. Why would he do that?"

"Because I thought you might need someone," a deep voice sounded from behind the two of them. Burt appeared, Tire trotting behind him. Kurt dropped his hand from the stranger's cheek; he hadn't even realized that his hand climbed all the way up the man's back and landed on his face. "I had a feeling you were destined to do great things, Kurt. You have saved Prince Blaine, and I couldn't be more proud."

There were so many questions that Kurt wanted to ask, so many that were bursting from his mouth, but all he could muster was, "Who are you?"

"Maybe I'm not a merchant. Maybe I am. That doesn't matter anymore. Kurt, you are destined for bigger things than being an exiled Hummel." Burt clasped his hand on his son's shoulder. "I know your secret, even though you may not know it right now. Before you leave, I want you to know that I'm fine with it."

"Leave?" Blaine asked. Prince Blaine, Kurt thought, a real prince. Wow.

"Yes. Someone needs to escort you back to the castle, right?" Burt smiled, his eyes a bit teary.

"Oh, Dad! I'll come back as soon as I can, but, wow! This is exciting!" Kurt flung his arms around his dad's neck.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Burt muttered, and then raised his voice. "Well, Kurt, I'll pack you up. Why don't you chat with your royal highness," he bowed in Blaine's direction, "and I'll be out in minute." Burt left, leaving the two boys to themselves.

"I wonder he meant by my 'secret'," Kurt pursed his lips. The words struck a certain chord deep within him; it rung out even louder as he looked back into Blaine's beautiful face, which was soft. His eyes, his eyes, his eyes; they had the strangest expression, an emotion behind them that Kurt had never seen.

"I think…I think I may know," he said quietly, blushing slightly.

"What do you think it is, Prince Blaine?" Kurt said, addressing the boy properly.

"First, don't call me that, just Blaine is fine," he started a bit shakily. "Next, don't—just—"

Blaine reached up an pressed his lips to Kurt's, staying there for a few seconds, and then quickly broke away, unable to meet Kurt's gaze.

Kurt pressed his fingers to his lips, trying to compute what had just occurred. They still tingled after the alien touch—a good tingle. He stared at Blaine, feeling things he'd never felt before.

Aren't boys supposed to feel this way about girls, a small, nervous voice sounded in the back of his mind.

"Do—do that again." Kurt found the words tumbling out of his mouth, and before he knew it, the boy's lips were on his again, moist and sweet and just pure ecstasy. Kurt sank into it, cupping Blaine's face with his hands, knowing what his father meant about the secret.

In that moment, he understood what his grandfather wrote in one story, the only story involving a boy and a girl falling in love and living together forever: "He looked at her, and she looked at him, and they both knew, in that small moment, that the locking of their eyes locked their lives together in love." Somehow, despite his madness that was now evident to Kurt, his grandfather still understood what love was. Perhaps that was why he wrote so many stories, to siphon the delirium out through pen and parchment. Obviously, it didn't work, but Kurt appreciated the effort.

They kissed again, and Kurt realized that he wouldn't care what other people thought, since in the kingdom boys were supposed to be with girls and that was that. He knew, based on what Blaine was doing to him, that Blaine felt the same. As long as they had each other, they would be okay.

Kurt tore away from Blaine, staring into his stunning eyes that were full of love.

"Were your eyes always that color?" he asked.

"What, aren't they green?" Blaine answered with slight concern.

"They're—they're gold," Kurt giggled. He wasn't sure why he found it funny. "Just like the water of the pond sank under your eyelids and stained your eyes."

"Hm. That's awful, especially considering that it will always remind me of what ruined my life," Blaine said sadly.

"Don't think of it that way," Kurt soothed him, "that's how you got me, right? Every time I'll look in your eyes, I'll think of how we first met. I think they're beautiful, to be honest."

Blaine was rendered speechless by this, and could only respond by kissing him enthusiastically.

Kurt and Blaine then ventured off to the castle, where Blaine had a tearful reunion with his parents. He explained, with the help of Kurt, what happened to him, and also explained the unorthodox condition of his relationship with Kurt. They were so overjoyed to have their son back that they accepted it immediately, and announced that Blaine was next in line to the throne, along with his partner, Prince Kurt. No one in the kingdom dared to defy the uncustomary type of relationship, and grew to accept it greatly over time.

Eventually Kings Kurt and Blaine ruled together, having a lovely adopted family and a wonderful, harmonious kingdom. Burt moved to the castle, with his powers still a mystery, but everyone lived happily ever after.

~FIN~

A/N: Sorry that it's late, I just had a really busy day yesterday. Hope you liked this one!