After almost three full days on the road, Kurt was about ready to scream in frustration. The winding road that led from Aldern to Ardlington was slow and troublesome at the best of times, made only worse by the almost laughably loud convoy that had insisted on joining him on the journey.
After the initial shock had worn off, Kurt had been all set to ride out on his own to face down the bandits squirreled away in Ardlington who were using people, his people, as a protective shield. It had taken the combined efforts of Sebastian and Blaine to convince him that, as Crown Prince, disappearing on his own the middle of the night armed with nothing but his righteous fury might possibly not be the best course of action.
What followed had consisted of almost a week of hurried negotiations via increasingly harried messengers, while Kurt paced and growled at anyone who came near him. He had almost broken down in relief when the news arrived that the bandits had agreed to put their mass slaughter plans temporarily on hold. In the spirit of mutual respect and desire to work together, Kurt had been informed by a terrified junior advisor. The poor man had been completely ill-equipped to deal with the bout of hysterical, incredulous laughter the news had elicited from Kurt. Mutual respect indeed.
The location for negotiations had finally been agreed upon - a stretch of abandoned grassland about ten miles outside Ardlington - and it was only then that the subject of who should attend the meet was broached.
Kurt had still wanted to ride out alone, accompanied by Sebastian and Blaine if they really insisted on coming. They were seasoned riders, and the three of them could cross the long distance quickly and without fuss. That simply would not do for the Council though, oh no. This was a matter of grave national importance, and required at least half of the council members to attend. And so discussions had begun as to which council members should attend and why, and at just about the point where Kurt was seriously abandoning the will to live, the point had been raised that with so many esteemed figures riding out, including the Crown Prince and Political Consort, the number of royal guards escorting them should be doubled - tripled if they could spare the men. Obviously.
Which was how Kurt found himself, well over a week since the disastrous news had first arrived in Aldern, trudging hoof by miserable hoof as part of the world's slowest convoy. A journey that could have been made in under a day if rider and horse went without sleep had somehow been spread out to almost three. Seventy-two hours of Kurt having no idea if the bandits had kept to their word, or if they would arrive at the meeting with no hostages left alive to negotiate for. The very thought made him sick.
The sound of off-beat hooves drew him out of his miserable thoughts, and he raised his gaze from his horse's mane to see Blaine trotting up to draw level with him. "How are you holding up, Sir?" Blaine asked gently, his astute gaze flicking over every inch of Kurt's wearied form. Kurt tried to smile at his submissive, to reassure Blaine that he was faring better than he looked, but he knew the gesture didn't come even close to reaching his eyes.
Blaine's brow furrowed in concern, and he nudged his horse closer so that he could reach over to squeeze Kurt's nearest hand, which was clenched so tight around his reins that the soft gesture sent pins and needles tingling all up his arm. "It's going to be alright, Sir, I know it."
Kurt gave a soft huff, and slowly relaxed his grip on his reins. He flexed his fingers, wincing as feeling slowly returned to them, then reached across to cup Blaine's face, stroking across his cheekbone with his thumb. "I wish I had your optimism," he admitted reluctantly.
Blaine nuzzled into the gesture, turning his cheek so that he could press soft kisses to Kurt's palm. "It's okay, Sir," he said. "You can share mine."
They reached the agreed upon meeting place as the sun was reaching the apex of its journey across the sky, giving the group just enough time to make camp before the opposing party arrived. The guards worked hard to erect the large receiving tent in time - resplendent in cerulean and gold and visible even from the walls of Ardlington. Kurt allowed himself a brief sigh of relief when the preparations were completed before his scouts called sight of an arriving party. He stood at the threshold of the tent, his breath tight in his chest as he desperately tried to steel himself for what was to come next. This was the first time he had led negotiations that carried such high stakes. He hoped he didn't let his people down.
Sebastian sauntered up to stand next to Kurt, his posture deceptively relaxed as he shoved his hands in the folds of his tunic and gave a low whistle. "You match." He said, flicking his eyes from Kurt's outfit to the tent behind them. Kurt looked down and straightened the hem of his blue tunic, the color bright against the gold of his hose.
"Aldernian colors. It's supposed to be show of strength," Kurt replied dully. He understood the council's reasoning, but still wasn't sure whether the intricate politicking they were accustomed to was necessarily be the best course of action against mercenary bandits such as the ones they were about to face.
"It's a good thing blue and gold suits you. Knowing you, you'd probably have tried to change the royal colours if they didn't match your complexion." Kurt could hear the gentle tease in Sebastian's voice, trying to draw him out of his slump, but he didn't have it in him to appreciate the gesture.
"How are you and Blaine so calm about all of this?" Kurt replied bitterly, suddenly irrationally annoyed at the idea that the two men might not be treating the situation as seriously as he was.
"Because we know you, Kurt." Kurt jerked his head up in surprise, not expecting such a simple, honest answer from his consort. He twisted to look up at Sebastian, and the soft sincerity in his gaze almost brought tears to his eyes. Sebastian gave him a small smile, and held out his hand in invitation. "Come on, let's go get our people back."
Inside the receiving tent, with Sebastian standing just behind his right shoulder and Blaine behind his left, Kurt waited for word of an arriving party.
And waited.
And waited.
The sun was three quarters of the way across the sky and Kurt's nerves were all but exhausted by the time they finally heard the urgent shout from their scouts, informing them of the bandits' arrival. Kurt hurriedly straightened in his seat, brushing invisible lint off his hose as he took a couple of deep breaths and prepared himself for what was to come next. His priority had to be the people held hostage within Ardlington, but their freedom simply could not come at the expense of all those still seeking asylum from Korus. It was going to be a delicate series of negotiations, and Kurt desperately hoped that those arriving at the table were amenable to discussion.
The flaps of the tent swung violently open, and Kurt's heart sank as he realized how unlikely that was.
Two large men swaggered inside; their considerable bulk formed of layer upon layer of hardened muscle. They crowded into the tent, making its insides seem claustrophobic and small as they crossed without invitation over to where Kurt was sitting rigid, trying not to appear intimidated by the two men in front of him. Men who clearly made a living from continued and deadly use of the multitude of razor sharp daggers hanging down by their sides. The royal guards positioned just inside the tent entrance seemed almost laughable in comparison, with their shining armour and beautifully ornamented swords.
The two bandits stopped just in front of Kurt, and the one on the left sketched a mocking bow. "Your Royal Highness," he said, smirking around a mass of fractured teeth. The man on the right didn't even make a pretense at formality, starting directly at Kurt as if challenging him to comment.
Kurt straightened in his chair and forced himself to break the gaze of the man on the right; engaging in some sort of hyper-masculine staring competition would achieve nothing.
"The nation of Aldern extends its thanks for agreeing to this round of negotiations." Kurt began, determined to at least make an attempt at civility. He gestured at the servant in the corner, who hurried forward with two stools. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."
The man on the left grinned maliciously, stepping over the small stool and sitting so hard that the wood creaked in protest. The man on the right, who was clearly the more senior of the pair, flicked his eyes dismissively toward the stool before fixing them back on Kurt again. "So says you."
Kurt felt Sebastian stiffen behind him at the obvious slight, but forced his body language to remain cordial as he beckoned once more at the servant in the corner. "We have food and wine, let us discuss the matter at hand like civilized folk."
The servant started forward with a tray of goblets, but the leader flung out his hand to halt his progress. The servant froze, red liquid splashing over the side of one of the goblets as his hands shook in fear, his eyes darting anxiously between his Crown Prince and the bandit who could crush his windpipe with just one of those big hands of his. Kurt grimaced but gave the poor man a small nod, allowing him to retreat to the relative safety of the tent wall.
"We do not have much to say, only this." The leader began. "We are men of action, not words. You think you can cow us into submission with this petty show of dominance? You are mistaken. We agreed to this meeting so that you would see just how mistaken you are. We have shown restraint up until now, but that ends today." The leader paused and nodded toward his cohort. The other man grinned and reached into the large burlap sack he had hanging down from his belt. He drew out something misshapen and flung it at Kurt's feet. The item landed on the hard ground with the soft thump, and Kurt stared down in horror at the fleshy head in front of him, eyes swollen shut and mouth open in a silent scream of pain. He heard a small, aborted gasp from behind him, and a rustle as Sebastian took a protective step closer to his submissive. Kurt knew he should do something, say something, but his entire focus was stuck on the mass of flesh at his feet.
"Now you see that our threats are not empty," the leader said. Kurt barely heard him above the ringing in his ears. A head. In front of him was a human head that had once been attached to a body. The skin so was bloated and disfigured that Kurt couldn't even tell whether it was a man or woman, but it had belonged to a person, with hopes and dreams and people they cared about. And these, these barbarians had snatched it all away just to prove a point. To him, the Crown Prince of Aldern.
"You will meet our demands," the leader continued. "You will return any cowards who have abandoned our great city of Korus. You will-"
But Kurt had had enough, all rational thought had been overwhelmed, suffocated and snuffed out by the rage that was coursing through his veins. He whipped his hand out and clenched it in front of him, watching as the leader gasped and stuttered, falling silent as his hands came up to claw at his neck. The monster inside of Kurt roared in satisfaction and he twisted his clenched hand to the side, constricting the bandit's windpipe still further.
The other bandit jumped up, sending his stool flying as both hands went for the knives at his side. Without missing a beat Kurt flung his other hand out toward the man, flexing his fingers and instantly locking all his limbs. "You stay there," he said, coldly, faintly aware of how unlike his normal self he sounded.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the two members of his royal guard tensing by the doorway, unsure of whether to intervene. Kurt ignored them as he turned his attention back to the choking leader, who was leaving red streaks along his neck as he clawed at the invisible hand around his throat. "Tell me again," Kurt said, rising from his throne and taking a deliberate step over the disfigured head at his feet toward the bandit. "What exactly it was that you wanted me to do?"
He took another step toward the bandit, stopping mere inches in front of him. He made a point of slowly tipping his head first to the left and then to the right, appraising the man in front of him. From what felt like very far away he heard the swish of the tent flap opening, and watched with a strange sense of detachment as three council members hurried into the tent, one of them squawking in surprise at the scene they were confronted with. "Your Royal Highness!"
"Welcome, esteemed council members." Kurt replied, his voice dangerously casual. His eyes didn't leave the bandit in front of him. "This piece of scum was just enlightening us on what we might expect if we don't bow to his clan's ridiculous demands. I thought it was only fair that I let them know what they might expect in retaliation."
"Your….Your Royal Highness," one of the council members stuttered again, taking an abortive step toward Kurt before clearly thinking better of it. "These men are engaging in the act of parley. Our laws dictate that you must allow them all the necessary protections-"
"They sacrificed those rights when they brought the head of one of my subjects to the negotiation table," Kurt interrupted. He twisted his hand in emphasis and watched as the man wheezed.
"Kurt, think about what you're doing." Kurt jumped at the voice from behind him. He had almost forgotten that Sebastian and Blaine were in the tent with him. He twisted to look behind him and saw that both men had come together in front of the throne, looking agitated.
"I know exactly what I'm doing, Sebastian," Kurt replied coldly. He was going to kill both of them, extinguish the life from their bodies. Slowly, painfully. And when he was done he would send their heads back to their cohorts. See how they liked it.
"Korus will see their deaths as an act of war," Sebastian tried again, taking a small step toward Kurt. Whatever he saw in Kurt's eyes stopped him from coming any closer, but he held his hands out in front of him placatingly.
"Let them see it as such." Kurt replied even as the small, rational part of him he was trying so hard to ignore railed against the foolhardiness of such a statement. He violently squashed it down. Korus wouldn't be able to claim an act of war without admitting that the bandits were under their instruction first.
"You don't mean that," Sebastian said, taking another step toward Kurt.
"I think you'll find that I do," Kurt bit back with enough venom to stop him in his tracks once more.
Sebastian took a deep breath, and Kurt could see the anguish twisting his features. For a moment he felt guilty, so guilty at the idea of causing Sebastian such hurt, followed swiftly by heart-stuttering anger that Sebastian wasn't supporting him in his fury.
"Wouldn't it be better to leave them alive, to send a message back to their camp?" Sebastian tried a different approach. Kurt considered the suggestion. A tiny shred of his rational mind sprang to eager life. Two dead emissaries achieved nothing other than justice for his murdered subject. But two live emissaries, sent back with word of the repercussions they faced for their actions, along with first-hand experience of the reach of his power to back it up…
His grip on his magic wavered as his attention briefly fell away from the bandits and focused on the viability of Sebastian's suggestion, his death grip on the leader's windpipe relaxing ever so slightly.
The leader drew in a great, shuddering breath, and the noise snapped Kurt's attention back to the bandit. He scowled, cross with himself for allowing him even a small morsel of respite, and clenched his hand again. The breath of air the bandit had hurriedly taken was expelled in a great whoosh, his face turning purple as Kurt's magic tightened around his throat once more with a vengeance.
"I only need one of them alive to send a message," he replied, eyes locked with the man as he watched the light slowly fade from his eyes.
"Kurt, please don't do this."
The sound of Blaine's voice uttering his name, his actual name, was such a surprise that Kurt's head whipped away from the bandit without thought. He watched as Blaine slowly stepped forward to stand next to Sebastian, and then just as slowly sunk to his knees. His body hit the plush rug with a soft whump, and as he locked eyes with Kurt time seemed to stand still.
Blaine's expression was so achingly familiar that Kurt was practically catapulted back to the castle, back to all the times Blaine had looked up at him with that exact same look, before handing himself over completely to his Dominant.
It was a look of trust, of expectation and acceptance and it pierced Kurt's chest more effectively than any blade. Kurt couldn't drag his eyes away as Blaine paused for just a moment longer. "Please Kurt, Sir," he whispered, before dropping his gaze to the tent floor, his entire torso following as he prostrated himself at his master's feet.
Kurt's eyes were fixated on the back of Blaine's neck as his submissive held the pose of absolute obeisance. He had the slightly hysterical thought that Blaine was offering himself in place of the bandit, and bile rose in his throat at the idea of his sweet, perfect Blaine offering himself in place of the scum he currently held in his power.
A rustle of movement, and Kurt dragged his gaze away from Blaine to watch as Sebastian took the smallest of steps forward, placing himself just slightly between Blaine and Kurt. The two men locked eyes, and this time Kurt wasn't met with an expression of trust, but a challenge. Sebastian was assessing him, the Crown Prince with the power to level this entire camp if he so chose. Kurt wondered what Sebastian was reading in his face, and whether or not he would be found wanting.
After what felt like an age, Sebastian blinked once, with finality, and purposefully dropped his gaze to the floor. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion as Kurt watched Sebastian sink to his knees next to Blaine. With slow, pointed movements he clasped his hands behind his back arching his neck in the perfect show of subservience.
"This isn't you, Kurt."
Oh God, what on earth was he doing? His fingers flexed impotently one last time before he wrenched his hand back, clasping it almost protectively to his chest as he released his magical grip on the man in front of him. The bandit collapsed to the floor as he suddenly regained the use of his windpipe, taking in deep, shuddering breaths that seemed to shake his whole body.
Kurt closed his eyes and willed his heart to slow its pounding. He could practically hear the exhale of relief wash round the tent, and he forced his eyes open to stare down at the man still coughing and wheezing on his hands and knees in front of him.
"Return to Ardlington." Kurt surprised even himself with how steady his voice sounded. "Tell your King, your Master, whoever is actually in charge, that I will be arriving at sunset to arrange for the release of my people."
"The men at Ardlington are under orders to start slaughtering prisoners if they see any military within a mile of the walls," the other bandit replied, his voice impressively resilient all things considered. Kurt had almost forgotten that he was there. He turned toward the man and gave him a grin that was almost feral in its ferociousness.
"Do I really look like somebody who needs a military escort?"
Kurt dismissed the servants and the rest of the council members as soon as the bandits left. After a moment's thought he also dismissed the guards waiting anxiously by the door. He was grateful that one of them stepped forward to retrieve the head before he had to say anything.
"I'll see that it gets a proper burial, Your Royal Highness," the guard said quietly, not quite managing to meet Kurt's eye as he wrapped the head in a length of the decorative linen that adorned the inside of the tent. Kurt nodded silently, not trusting his voice.
He waited until the tent flap had fallen behind the retreating forms of the guards and it was just him, Sebastian and Blaine left before he allowed his shoulders to sag. He slumped down into his chair and waved his hand limply until a goblet of wine picked itself up and floated over to him. He look a long swig of the cool liquid and tried not to let the panic bubbling inside of him rise up and overwhelm him.
"You did well, Sir." Blaine's words of support were like sandpaper against his skin. He gave a derisive laugh and took another long drink.
"Blaine is right, Kurt," Sebastian said.
"I just about managed to not commit murder. Go me," Kurt replied, voice dull.
"I mean, given the circumstances I'd consider that a pretty big achievement." Sebastian's voice was carefully light as he sank to sit cross-legged by Kurt's feet. He gave Kurt's knee an almost condescending pat and the gesture was just so very Sebastian that Kurt couldn't help but feel comforted. He gave a small huff of acknowledgement as Blaine slipped down on his other side and rested his head against Kurt's leg, and Kurt's hand slipped down practically of its own volition to start carding through Blaine's curls.
"So, what's the plan, Your Royal Highness?" Sebastian asked.
"I hadn't actually gotten that far," Kurt admitted with a rueful grin down at Sebastian. "I was hoping you two could help me."
Sebastian grinned. "You're lucky masterplan is my middle name."
Blaine made an inaudible mumble against Kurt leg. "What was that Blaine?" Kurt asked curiously.
Blaine looked across at Sebastian with a smile that was far too honest to be truly genuine. "I thought your middle name was Eugene?"
"Oh, you are in so much trouble my sweet, sweet submissive," Sebastian replied with a wicked grin as Kurt couldn't help but laugh, the bright noise chasing away the last of the dark thoughts in his brain. With a new focus and a new determination, the three of them settled down to plan.
Kurt reached the gated wall of Ardlington just as the sun was setting behind the mountains to the west, the dying beams of light glinting off the gold embroidery of his finest tunic like flashes of starlight.
"Who goes there?" a disembodied voice shouted from the top rampart. Kurt took a moment to make sure his voice would not quaver before replying.
"The Crown Prince of Aldern. I'm expected."
Short and to the point. Don't give them anything more than you need to. Sebastian's coaching voice whispered in his ear as he took another steadying breath. A moment's pause and then the huge wooden doors in front of him creaked open. Behind them stood an older man of about forty. His posture spoke of a hardened veteran, as did the cool calculating stare fixed upon Kurt as he nudged his horse forward through the open gate.
His clothes though, Kurt couldn't help but notice as he rode closer, spoke of wealth and means far greater than would be expected of even the head of a bandit clan. Kurt's expert eye picked out stitches and patterns that could only have come from the master seamstresses of Korus, and any doubts that Kurt might have had about who these bandits were in the pay of were put to rest once and for all. His fingers clenched tightly around his reins; the supple leather creaking in protest.
When he was no more than a foot away from the man he pulled up his horse, and for long seconds the two men appraised one another without speaking. Finally the older man gave a curt nod. "You are alone?" he asked by way of greeting.
"As discussed with your delightful envoy." Kurt's reply was equally short, although he couldn't help the derision slipping into his voice.
Another long pause, another short nod. "You may leave your horse with my men."
Kurt slid gracefully from the saddle and handed the reins of his horse to the young boy who hurried up to him. His heart strained slightly at the sight of the wide eyed child who couldn't have been more than twelve. So young and already tied to such a life of hardship. Magic pulsed at his fingertips as he made himself turn his back on the boy and follow the clan leader along the dusty street. Right now he had to focus on his people.
The clan leader led him through archway after archway, deeper and deeper into the depths of the city. Kurt had no doubt that this was supposed to be a form of intimidation, to make the young prince feel vulnerable and alone. Magic crackled in his veins and he couldn't help grinning to himself. He wished they would give him an excuse to show them just how naive that assumption was.
Eventually Kurt was directed into a darkened room which must have been a guest house before the city was sacked. The leader took a seat on a stool on one side of a wide, wooden table and indicated for Kurt to join him. Kurt sat on the proffered seat, trying to ignore the thin film of grease that seemed to be covering every surface of the room.
Another young boy appeared seemingly out of nowhere with goblets of liquid, placing them on the table between them with shaking hands. The bandit raised his glass in toast and Kurt forced himself to do the same, pretending to take a long swig at the same time as the other man but merely letting the cool liquid brush against his lips.
"I am Vren, Warrior and Leader of the Nightbleeder Clan," the other man said. Kurt nodded in acknowledgement.
"And I am Kurt Hummel, Crown Prince and Magical Guardian of the realm of Aldern." He forced his words to come out slow and commanding, trying to channel the calm presence he had always admired his father.
"Well, Kurt," Vren began, smirking slightly as he used Kurt's name rather than any of his formal titles. "Let us discuss our demands."
It took everything Kurt had to keep his expression neutral. He slowly reached forward to pick up his goblet and pretended to take another long sip as he composed himself. The audacity of this man to take and terrify his people, and then sit there smirking and talking about demands, like he thought Kurt would simply buckle at the first sign of power. Stick to the plan Kurt, stick to the plan. Sebastian's voice echoed in his brain. He forced himself to put the goblet back down on the table with a gentle click, rather than slam it down with the full force of his rage like he so wanted to, and nod at the bandit in front of him.
"I'm listening," he replied in a voice that was far too calm.
Yet again the clan leader underestimated the young prince in front of him. Far from heeding the silent warning of Kurt's tone, he merely grinned that awful grin of his and leaned forward, placing both arms on the greasy tabletop in front of him as he crowded into Kurt's personal space.
"One," he said, holding up a thick finger for emphasis, "you will revoke your pledge of asylum to those coward traitors of Korus who think they can run away from their Kingdom. Two-" another finger joined the first, "-you will return any coward traitors of Korus who have already arrived in Aldern back to their rightful home. Three-" another finger extended. His nails really were disgustingly grubby, "-you will make a public statement renouncing the actions of the coward traitors of Korus. And four-" Vren paused for a moment to throw a smirk at the men behind him, waiting for their titters of laughter before leaning even further across the table toward Kurt, "-we want a thousand gold pieces. Tonight."
Kurt waited for the snickers of laughter to die down around the room, and then he waited a beat longer for good measure. Slowly, oh so slowly, he leaned forward, forearms sliding across the table. He stretched so that he was so close to Vren's face that he could feel the man's stale breath across his cheek. Making sure he was looking the bandit directly in the eye, he replied with deathly calm. "I accept none of those demands."
Sebastian hugged the wall and held his breath as he counted the footsteps stomping along the street that connected to the small alleyway he was hiding in. Four sets of boots, all falling ever so slightly out of time. A patrol team, but not one that was expecting any real disturbances. Sebastian loosed a small breath of air and waited until the footsteps started to fade before peeking his head out of the alleyway.
Four men, just as he had expected, all dressed in dark riding leathers. Sebastian looked down at his own form and grinned in satisfaction. He was dressed almost identically, thanks to Kurt's expert eye. He watched as they turned the corner, waiting another three heartbeats before rolling his shoulders and shaking his arms out. He stepped out of the shadows confidently, and followed the men with an easy swagger.
He made sure to telegraph his arrival as he rounded the corner, whistling an aimless tune and shoving his hands into his pockets - the very picture of unconcerned.
"Evening boys," he said, trying not to flinch as six pairs of calculating eyes turned in his direction. He allowed his eyes to dart behind the guards toward the rows of cells, just for a moment to confirm that he was in the right place, before focusing his attention back on the men guarding the hostages.
He sauntered toward the men and took a seat on an upturned crate, looking for all the world like he had every right to be there. "Looks like talks between the boss and that upstart prince are still going," he said casually, forcing himself not to trip over the insult to Kurt, as much as it pained him to say. "I didn't know boss liked to play with his food."
He grinned as the joke elicited a muffled laugh from the other men, and allowed himself to relax as the guards picked up the thread of conversation and ran with it. He let the conversation run for a decent while, even though every inch of his being was screaming at him to hurry up, move it along. He ran the risk of exposing everything if he seemed too eager.
So he waited until there was a sufficient lull in the conversation before digging in his pocket and bringing out a battered pack of cards. He started to shuffle the pack with practiced ease as he nodded over his shoulder. "I found a tavern a couple of streets along. It's a shame that all that good ale will go to waste once we've moved on - it's not like any of this lot will still be alive to enjoy it." Sebastian forced himself to leer at the hostages, trying not to cringe as the prisoners closest to him visibly flinched at his words.
There was a murmur of agreement from the men around him, a few disgusting laughs that turned Sebastian's stomach even as he forced his expression to remain neutral. "You know, one might say it's our civic duty to drink it, it's so wasteful otherwise." Another rustle of agreement, this one louder and punctuated by a couple of muted hear-hears.
Sebastian grinned and shuffled his pack of cards once more with a flourish. "Anybody for a tankard and a game of poker?"
Kurt took a moment to fully enjoy Vren's stunned face. Pushing off the edge of the table he stood up, the scrape of his stool reverberating around the silent room. He held his hand out in front of him and made the candles around the guesthouse flicker and gut, almost burning out completely as the room was plunged into darkness. "I'm sure your messengers informed you of my skills," Kurt said, channeling all his rage and frustration at the situation into a terrifying calmness. He flexed his fingers and the candles roared to life again, lighting up the entire room as every glass item around him shattered into a thousand pieces. He grinned menacingly as the bandit leader flinched backward.
Smoke and mirrors, the parlour tricks of his powers, and yet so effective every time.
"I accept none of those demands, because I don't need to," Kurt said, twisting his hand and sending all the furniture in the room flying toward the outer walls, leaving just him and Vren and not nearly enough space between them. He took a step forward, and a not-so-small part of him growled in satisfaction as Vren skidded his stool backward in response. "Now let me tell you what is actually going to happen. You're going to take this sorry rabble of yours back to Korus, and tell your master that if he doesn't start keeping his bandits in line then Aldern will consider their next attack an act of war." Kurt held up his hand as Vren opened his mouth to argue. "Please, don't insult my intelligence by trying to claim that you're not in the pay of the King of Korus. If you or any other bandit clan attack my people again, my revenge will be swift and deadly. Do you understand?"
There was a long beat of silence as Vren looked Kurt up and down with wide eyes, his entire body rigid. Then he gave a short bark of laughter and clapped his hands together slowly, mockingly. He leaned forward, his body slipping back into a casual, confident pose that only looked a tiny bit forced. "An impressive show, I'll give you that," he said. "But tell me, prince, will you still be such a cocky shit when we start killing off hostages by the dozen?"
Kurt let his smile grow wider, "I wonder, bandit," he said, leaning forward to stage-whisper conspiratorially, "how you'll be able to do that, when you can't find them."
Blaine hid in the alleyway where Sebastian had stood not fifteen minutes earlier. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears as the adrenaline threatened to take over. He closed his eyes and willed his breathing to slow and stabilize, just like when he was with his Masters. After he had calmed his heartbeat he took a few moments to listen for any footfall, stepping out of the alleyway once he was confident there was nobody else around.
He cast his eyes around, searching for the marker he and Sebastian had agreed upon. A couple of steps ahead a bright flash of blue peeked out from behind some crates. With a sigh of relief Blaine hurried forward and thrust his hand down the back of the stack, praying he wasn't about to be rewarded with a vicious bite from a rat or half-feral cat in the process. His fingers wrapped around cool metal and he drew out the heavy ring of keys slowly to avoid them making a sound, wrapping them in his tunic as soon as they were clear of the crates.
Despite the urgency of his task, Blaine allowed himself to chuckle silently at the absurdity of his current situation. He wondered how the council would react if they knew that their Political Consort was not only a master at fixing a poker deck, but could also pick pockets while he was at it.
He hurried down the street to the rows of cells at its far end. As he approached, the men and women closest to the bars flinched away, their eyes wary. Blaine slowed down and held up his hands placatingly. "It's okay, it's okay, i'm with the Crown Prince," he said in a hurried whisper, reaching into the folds of his tunics to bring out the keys. He started testing each of the keys in the lock of the first cell, cursing silently each time one of the them refused to budge. He knew it was only a matter of time before Sebastian conned the guards out of their last copper and they returned to their posts.
Finally one of the keys twisted with an audible clack. The whole world seemed to freeze as Blaine waited with bated breath to see if anybody would react to the noise. There was a pregnant pause that seemed to last forever before a great cheer erupted from the tavern a few streets along. Blaine loosed the breath he had been holding, and dragged the heavy gate open. "Hurry, hurry," he whispered at the men and women streaming out of the cell, some of them still eyeing Blaine as if this were some sort of a trap. "Head for the gate on the western wall. Follow the path for two miles and you'll find members of the royal guard waiting for you. Hurry now."
One man stopped as he passed Blaine, his eyes dark and hollow. He didn't say anything, but reached up to squeeze Blaine's shoulder. Blaine's heart stuttered in sympathy for what these people had endured, and reached up to cover the man's hand with his own, squeezing it once in response. The man nodded, then turned back to his people, chiding them along the street as fast as they could go.
Blaine wished he could go with them, make sure they escaped the walled city without issue, but there were still many more cells to unlock and time was getting tighter. He took an unsteady breath and turned back to the cells. He could do this, he had to.
Kurt thanked every god, deity and helpful sprite he could think of for the impeccable timing of the young man who burst into the room before Vren even had a chance to look confused at Kurt's words.
"Boss, boss, the prisoners, they're all gone!" the man gasped, his eyes wide with panic.
Vren's face morphed from confused to furious as he rounded on the other man. "What do you mean, they're gone?" he asked, his tone deadly as he reached down to the knife hanging at his side.
The other man held his hands up in protest, taking a step backward and opening his mouth to speak. No words came out of his mouth though, as Vren advanced on him with menacing fury.
"Go and round up all the imbeciles who abandoned their posts," Vren commanded one of the other bandits in the room, his cold eyes not leaving the messenger in front of him. "It's time this clan remembered the punishment for disobeying me."
The messenger started stammering, but Kurt cut in before the man could dig himself too much of a hole.
"I wouldn't blame your men, it's not their fault the prisoners are gone."
Vren gave a harsh laugh, "They abandoned their posts, I don't see who else's fault it might be." He brought his knife up to trace the curve of the messengers jaw.
"But they were at their posts the entire time. Weren't you?" Kurt cast a meaningful glance at the messenger over Vren's turned back.
Kurt sent another prayer of thanks skywards as the messenger, who was clearly not a complete idiot, only looked confused for half an instant before his eyes widened in realization. He started nodding violently, inching away from Vren's knife as he did so.
"Yes boss, we were there the whole time. The whole time, I swear it. We were standing watch like you ordered and then there was a...a…"
"A loud boom?" Kurt supplied helpfully.
"Yes boss! A loud boom, the loudest I've ever heard. And then.. then there was smoke! So much smoke we couldn't see nothing!" the messenger said eagerly, getting into the swing of things far quicker than Kurt might have expected. Kurt grinned as he remembered how skeptical he had been of this plan when it had originally been suggested, before Sebastian had convinced him that these bandits would have no loyalty to Korus, or even to the job, and would do anything to save their own necks and any cut of the money they might still get. Turns out his Political Consort had been right, as usual.
"Don't worry too much about that. That was just me tearing a hole in the fabric of the universe. Oh, didn't you know I could do that?" Kurt asked innocently as both Vren and the messenger turned to stare at him in horror. Thank you Blaine for that little piece of superstition.
"I knew you wouldn't give me my people back, so I plucked them from the surface of the world myself. They're safe now, back in Aldern recovering from this nightmare you put them through." Kurt surveyed his nails as he spoke, the very picture of unconcerned. "Unfortunately I'm afraid the same can't be said for you if I decide to exact the same treatment on your little band of misfits. There are some truly horrifying places you might end up, it honestly doesn't bear thinking about."
He flicked his eyes up to fix Vren with the look that Sebastian had joked made even him rethink his actions. The clan leader was still staring at him with a mix of confusion, terror and disbelief written across his features. Kurt gave a small sigh and sent a pulse of his magic down into the ground, causing mini tremors to ripple through the floor of the guesthouse. Kurt sent a larger tremor coursing right underneath Vren's feet, smiling maliciously as the clan leader stumbled and almost fell. He could practically see the moment the bandit decided that this job wasn't worth it any more. He took a large step back, away from the Crown Prince. "Leave. Leave now."
"You will pass on my message to the King?" Kurt asked innocently.
"Oh don't you worry. Every town from here to Korus is going to hear about the Crown Prince of Aldern and his dark magic," Vren said with a sneer, already signalling to his men to start moving out of the city.
Kurt gave a wide grin, white teeth flashing as he fixed Vren with a stare that would have made lesser men crumble. "See that you do."
Kurt rode out of the city slowly, without haste. He made sure to ride through as many winding streets as possible as he made his way to the Eastern gate, so that he could see for himself the bandits packing up and moving out. He made sure to stare down anyone who met his eye - unsurprisingly very few did.
He was halfway back to camp, Ardlington just a flicker of torches in the distance, when the events of the day suddenly caught up with him. He dismounted hurriedly and crouched on the side of the road, head in his hands as he took great, gulping breaths of air. There had been so much to lose, so much. He didn't even know if Blaine, Sebastian and the prisoners had made it back to camp or not. This had been his first real test of leadership. He hadn't realized that it would be so hard.
He didn't know how long he crouched there, breathing slowly and trying not to let everything overwhelm him. Some time later the silence of the night was broken by two sets of hoofbeats getting steadily louder. Kurt's head whipped up, his body instantly on high alert and his magic crackling in his veins. He wasn't about to rescue his people just to go and get himself captured in their place.
"Kurt? Kurt is that you?" Sebastian's voice floated through the night air and Kurt practically whimpered in relief. He lifted a hand to wave weakly at the two riders, not quite trusting his voice.
Blaine was the first to dismount, still a good twenty paces away. He practically ran over to Kurt, trusting his mount not to stray too far away from Sebastian's. When he reached Kurt he sank down next to him, slipping an arm around his waist and resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. It was such a simple, intimate gesture that Kurt couldn't help the sob that broke free of this throat. His arms came up to encircle Blaine's shoulders, dragging his submissive closer as he breathed in his scent.
He felt rather than saw Sebastian join him on his other side, a comforting hand rubbing little circles along his spine. "We were worried about you," Sebastian said, voice honest and open.
"Did it work? Did everyone get back okay?" Kurt replied, needing to know.
"You did great Kurt. They're all back at camp. There are a few cases of exhaustion and some scrapes and bruises, but nothing the healers can't handle." Sebastian's voice had taken on a soothing tone, lilting in just the right way to put Kurt at ease. In any other circumstance he probably would have snapped at Sebastian to stop working him like that. As it was he was just so incredibly grateful to have the two of them there, holding him together on either side.
The realization stunned Kurt more than it possibly should have done, that after everything that had happened, everything they had endured over the past week, his overwhelming emotion at that exact moment was gratitude. Gratitude for the two amazing men who had come into his life and turned it upside down and made everything so much better than he ever imagined it could be. He thought back to their first meeting earlier that year, with Blaine's captivating eyes and Sebastian's equally captivating swagger. It was like another lifetime ago. They had been practical strangers, and now he couldn't imagine life without them. It had been a rocky road to get to this point, no doubt about that, but as Kurt sat on that dusty path in the middle of nowhere, with Blaine on his left and Sebastian on his right, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it had all been worth it.
The three of them stayed like that, their own little knot of support and comfort, until the new day's sun started to peek out from behind the horizon. Blaine was sleeping softly on Kurt's shoulder and Kurt was dozing himself when Sebastian shifted and stretched.
"Time to go home?" he asked, reaching behind Kurt's back to stroke his hand through Blaine's hair. The submissive smiled in his sleep and burrowed deeper into Kurt's shoulder. Kurt almost felt bad for waking him up, but Sebastian was right. He tore his gaze from the top of Blaine's head to turn and smile up at Sebastian.
"Time to go home."