Glee 1. Prologue

Once upon a time in a land far, far away there lived a kindly king who was helpful and loved by all his people. The pride and joy of the king's life were his wonderful wife and their baby son, Prince Kurt. The joy on the king's face at the birth of his beautiful baby boy was permanently lived and shared throughout the kingdom as the people erupted in cheers when the child was held for them all to see on the day of his birth. The young prince was the joy of the kingdom and villagers were always scrambling to get a good look at their new heir to the throne whenever ever the king and queen ventured out amongst their people. And that was how the glorious royal family lived, happily for the first eight years of Prince Kurt's young life. And then, tragedy struck.

A carriage a ride. That was all it was. A very simple carriage ride. King Burt had remained at home to rule over their kindly kingdom while Queen Elizabeth had taken their son and traveled to a distant kingdom in hopes of forming an alliance. Her idea, arrange a marriage between Prince Kurt and the princess of the kingdom. The young prince had spoken not a word during the meeting. He had barely cast a glance at the princess, who was but a year younger than he in number. However, the two of them were both on the same level when it came to lessons.

After a treaty had been made and an agreement for Prince Kurt to have the princess' hand in marriage come the day that she turned eighteen years of age, Queen Elizabeth and her son climbed aboard their carriage once more and began the long journey home. Silence settled over them with Kurt staring out the window, his cheek resting in his hand.

"So, what do you think of Prince Rachel? Pretty little thing, isn't she?" his mother finally said, breaking the silence. Kurt merely hummed in response, not bothering to turn his head from the window. The clip-clopping of the horses' hooves were the only thing that broke the silence for a few moments before the queen went on. "Kurt? My dear child, whatever is the matter?" It was at these words that Kurt forced his eyes away from the window and turned them on his mother. She looked at him with a mixture of worry and fear and her eyes.

"I'm sorry mom. That princess is…high maintenance," he said, for lack of a better word. He was determined to call her selfish and stuck up but Kurt was too polite to use such descriptions in front of his mother. She looked at him with slight worry. Kurt sighed and opened his mouth to explain further still when he was cut off but a sudden scraping sound.

The horses were scraping their hooves to a stop and the carriage trundled dangerously on the path, swerving first one way, than the other. Elizabeth screamed and wrapped her arms protectively around her son. The small boy looked out the window in fear. There was a man in a cloak standing just ahead of them. He looked positively terrifying.

Kurt, desperate to appear brave merely ran a hand through the bangs of his thick brunette hair, the crown atop his head slightly askew. The man came closer as the horses brought about their stop. Kurt stared in horror as he threw two balls of light and the guards holding the reins slumped off the top of the carriage and fell to the ground, unmoving. Fear gripped the young prince and he hugged his torso. What was going on?

In the next instant, the man had thrown up the door to the carriage and yanked the queen out by the wrist. She screamed and Kurt froze in fear as he watched this man pull a gleaming silver blade from his side belt. His scruffy face glared down at the pearly white neck of Elizabeth's throat. Kurt wanted desperately to cry out. He wanted to keep the man from hurting his mother but he found that he had no voice. He looked on in horror as the man brought up the blade and drew it swiftly and uncaringly across his mother's throat. Elizabeth choked on the blood that poured from the fresh cut, drips of red protruding from her mouth mere seconds later as she coughed. Within mere more seconds, her body had collapsed limp to the ground. Queen Elizabeth Hummel was dead.

The moment the man turned his rugged face on Kurt, was the moment the young prince found himself able to move once more. Being a child, he was able to lunge through the man's flailing arms, ducking out of the carriage and running full force into the woods. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the man running after him. He didn't once glance over his shoulder.

Tree branches and brush scraped at his arms and legs, tearing rips in his clothing. His crown perched still askew atop his head threatened to fall as he pressed on and when he stumbled over a tree branch on the ground that did it. The crown slid from his head and dropped into the dirt and brush. Kurt never realized it had fallen. Or if he did, he merely didn't care. His mind was set on getting away from the man who was probably still chasing after him. The man that had killed his mother and the man that Kurt was quite sure wanted to kill him too. A fear in his chest gripped him and tightened whole-heartedly as he thought about his father. Would the man go after him too?

Thoughts were cut short as Kurt's foot lodged itself beneath a large rock sending him flying through the air and tumbling down a hillside he hadn't even noticed was there. He landed in a thump, his head colliding with a log. The young prince had a brief flash of the night sky shining in breaks through the trees before he fell unconscious and lost his known way of the world around him.

Some distance away, back at the castle, King Burt sat in his throne room as he was approached with a messenger. A page who had been traveling the road when the royal carriage had been attacked. He felt it was his duty to deliver the news to the king. When Burt heard of the death of his wife and the disappearance of his on, he broke down. Tears fell freely from the king's eyes and he slid from his chair. The page expressed his condolences and deep sorrow for the king. He also said that since the young prince had run, there was still the chance that Kurt was still alive.

With this knowledge, Burt called for his advisor and had a royal word with him. Horns blew in the kingdom moments later as the man stepped out on the balcony. The villagers had all gathered below, wondering what the sudden emergency call had been. Burt stood behind his advisor, looking solemn and half-hearted. Few of the villagers noticed this as he could barely be seen on the balcony at all. The advisor cleared his throat, aware of the dark clouds above their heads and the rain that threatened to fall.

"Noble people of the Hummel kingdom, it is with great regret that I must inform you of the passing of the queen." Mutters broke out in the crowd, accompanying by unmistakable sobbing. The advisor did not feel it was his place to elaborate on the death of the queen. He cleared his throat a second time, trying to gain the attention of the crowd back. There was further proclamation to be said. The king had asked for this specifically. The villagers looked back up at him with fear and regret. "Also, Prince Kurt Elizabeth Hummel has disappeared. His highness King Burt Hummel, has offered the reward of being knighted to anyone in the village who may be able to find him and bring him home safely. That is all." And thus began the long search for the young prince, a search that would progress for some years yet.


	2. Chapter 1

Ten long years had passed since the death of the queen and disappearance of the prince and there was still no sign of Prince Kurt. No one, try as they might could find any trace of clue to the missing prince. Many in the village had long since given their beloved prince up for dead. They moved on and tried to forget the tragedy. The king himself took another wife and Queen Carole was very much a gracious woman. She was no less kind than the king or the former queen. She had been a noble of the court, with a son of her own. Her husband having passed on himself when the boy was just a baby. Her son, Finn, was the same age as Prince Kurt would have been, had he been there, eighteen.

To this very day though, the king had not given up hope that his son was out there somewhere, maybe suffering, maybe not. Word had been received. Word of a threat. Word that the king had kept to himself. Some weeks after the death of his first wife and the disappearance of his only son, a sorcerer, one who looked very like the scruffy man responsible for the attack had shown up at the palace. He had a row with the king after Burt refused to give him what he asked and then, he had left upon threatening the life of the prince. It was this face precisely that told the king his son was indeed, still alive. And because of that day, though he lived in fear of the sorcerer's wraith, he never gave up hope that one day, Kurt would return home.

Even as Burt sat at the table surrounded by his knights, he still weighed on his mind the presence of his son. Where was the boy? The boy would be eighteen now. The prince was set to have married that princess in that kingdom he and his mother had been visiting in one year's time and he was missing. Instead, the king had agreed to arrange the marriage between his stepson and the princess, the latter of which had taken quite an attraction to Finn. However, unbeknownst to them all, Finn had a girlfriend, a peasant girl by the name of Quinn Fabray. Though she was higher class, the kind of peasant who ranked just below a noble. She was like a noble without the title.

"Settle down, settle down!" Burt said, banging his fist lightly on the table to call order to the group of knights. There was an eighteen-year-old lad sitting on his left, newly knighted and quickly becoming a boy in which the king was quite fond of. This boy, by name of Sir Blaine Anderson waited patiently for the rowdiness of the older knights to die down and all attention to be given to the king. When they finally did, he gracefully stood from his seat, clasping his hands behind him, his sword nestled comfortably against his hip. He looked at Burt, who nodded. "You may have your say Sir Anderson," the king said.

Clearing his throat, Blaine was glad he was wearing gloves. No one would be able to tell that his hands were sweating. He tried to keep his reserve and remain as calm as he could. "Fellow knights, your highness," he started, bowing his head to the king. "I was striding through the forest the other day when I came across a knight from another kingdom. He was mercifully lost, weak, and seemed somewhat disoriented. The base of his helmet was indented as though he had been cracked pretty badly in the back of the head. He said he could remember nothing of where he had come from but that something had subconsciously told him he needed to find our kingdom."

Silence befell the knights surrounding the table and Burt himself looked quite intrigued. Blaine began pacing around the table, hands still clasped behind his back. "I took it upon myself to care for him and see if I could not bring him back up to speed," he went on, looking over all of their heads. "The odd thing about this knight, who seems to be no older than myself, is that he refuses to take off the helmet." He frowned and muttering broke out between the others. "He said something about not wanting to show off helmet hair." The others fell silent and burst into laughter. The king looked unpleased and affronted. He was about to call order when Blaine did so himself. "It's not funny!" he roared. That shut the others up.

Just then, Finn entered the room and bowed apologetically. "Uh, sorry for the interruption, but the young knight has stated that he is meant to be here," the boy said, bringing a hand to the back of his head and rubbing his hair. He looked at Blaine. "And he's not wearing a helmet." That stunned young Sir Anderson and he gazed on in wonder. Finn seemed to be waiting for a response and all Blaine could manage was a nod of his head, precisely given at the same time that the king gave his own.

Finn retreated from the room, which was once more deftly silent and a moment later, a tall skinny boy in knight's armor entered the room, holding a dented helmet under one arm. His skin was the palest of white, a natural blush upon his cheeks. His hair was neatly done in a side comb-over. His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue-green mixed with gray. All Sir Anderson could do was stand there and gawk. He was the most beautiful boy the young knight had ever set eyes upon.

Swiftly and gracefully, the mysterious newcomer crossed the room and dropped to a one-knee bow in front of the king, helmet still tucked under his arm. "Your highness," he spoke and the voice was like music, rather high in octave for a male. But the sound of it took Sir Anderson's breath away. Until this very moment, he hadn't heard the mysterious knight speak properly. No one noticed this. They were more preoccupied with the look on the king's face, the look that screamed recognition.

"Kurt…" Burt whispered into the silence. The muttering started up again. Could this boy really be the king's missing son? Could this boy be young Prince Kurt? Kurt had disappeared ten years ago when he was eight. Was it possible at the age of eighteen, the king had still recognized his missing son? The young knight looked up at Burt, very confused.

"I beg your pardon your highness?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Burt had no doubt in his mind that this was his son but when the knight did not acknowledge his own name, he felt his heart stop. That must have been why Kurt had never tried to find his way home. Something must have happened that had wiped his memory clean of anything that had to do with his real family, his real home, his real life. Burt did not approve. He was scared. He didn't want his son serving him like a knight in shining armor. He wanted Kurt to sit proud on the throne, his crown atop his head like the prince he was. But that was apparently easier said than done.

Burt didn't know what to say. Kurt didn't know who he was and he was so certain that this knight was his son. Finn was back in the doorway and Burt looked to his stepson with pleading eyes full of tears. Despite his cluelessness Finn seemed to catch on to the thoughts that were spilling through Burt's head. Sir Anderson regarded the king with one perfectly raised triangular eyebrow. He clapped a hand gently on the knight, who was still kneeling and apparently waiting for permission to rise. He could feel the muscle of the knight's shoulder beneath his hand and he couldn't stop the tingles that went up his spine. Oh how he wished he could feel the bare skin of that shoulder.

The king couldn't find words and cleared his throat, merely nodding his head to the knight he was quite sure was really his missing son. The knight rose. Burt had to regain his composure and try to press on as though he hadn't had that sudden realization. "What is your name sir knight?" he asked, trying with all his will power to not cry with relief and joy. If this boy did not remember he was his son, than he could not press those kinds of relations on him.

"Christopher Colfer your highness. Although I am aware that is not my birth name," the young knight replied. He clasped his hands in front of him and looked down at the floor for a moment before rising to allow his eyes to meet with the king's. "I don't remember any of my life before the age of eight. My adoptive parents said they found me wandering a wood in a disoriented state. They said my head was bleeding." This information seemed quite plausibly compliant with the disappearance of Prince Kurt. Not to mention, Christopher, as the knight had named himself could not remember any of his life before he was eight years old, the exact age the prince had been when he had disappeared.

"Sir Christopher Colfer?" Burt asked with a slightly raised brow. The young knight nodded.

"Yes your highness," he replied. "I come from the kingdom of Prince Murphy. The kingdom of Angeles." Burt looked at Blaine, confused and Christopher did not miss the exchange. "I was disoriented when Sir Anderson found me your highness. I could not remember that of which I came. I'd been cracked in the head and though my memories are still quite jumbled, I remember those details and yet, I seem to be experiencing memories of your fair kingdom, though I do not remember ever setting foot here. But it was for those reasons, I straggled to find your kingdom." Well, this explained a lot.

Hope lit like a wild fire in the king's eyes. A crack to the knight's head had jumbled his memories and given him back some of what he must have lost at the age of eight. But Kurt was not a knight. Well, Burt would never had made him one. He was a prince. Now, if there was only some way to filter back the rest of his memories. He wondered than if maybe Princess Rachel would jog anything. Sure, the young princess was now betrothed to Finn, and had only been seven at the time she had met Kurt, but she was one of the last people to see him before the attack. It was worth a shot.

"Sir Anderson," the king stated. Blaine bowed his head in reply. "See to it that the servants settle Sir Colfer in. Put him in the prince's room." Blaine's eyes went wide, as did the knight's.

"Prince Kurt's room, sir? Your highness, you've never let another living soul step into that room," Blaine replied in an astonished tone of voice. The king sighed and glanced at the young knight who was appearing as though he was puzzled as to why he should deserve such an honor as to be the first person allowed into a room that hadn't been touched in ten years. Oh yes, Christopher knew the stories. He had heard about the disappearance of the young prince. But it had never crossed his mind that he might just be that prince.

"Yes. Do it. It's for a good reason. I'm going to tell the guard to send for Princess Rachel at once. I need her services." This was something that no one could place why or how or what. Indeed, a few of the knights thought the king might have gone mad. But Burt knew what he was doing. Blaine knew better than to argue. He nodded his head and bowed politely to the king.

"Yes your highness." Without another word, he subconsciously took hold of Christopher's hand and lead him out of the room.


	3. Chapter 2

Blaine did not become aware of the fact that he was holding the mysterious knight's hand until they had walked several paces down the corridor outside the meeting room of the Hummel Kingdom knights. He flushed lightly and dropped the boy's hand. Almost as soon as he'd let go, Christopher took it up again. Blaine looked at him, quite a mixture of confusion and amuse on his face. Christopher merely graced him with a delicate closed mouth smile. Blaine felt his heart flutter. What was with this mysterious boy? And why was he meant to put him in the prince's room?

"Your king is very kind," Christopher spoke after a few moments of silence. Instinctively, Blaine gave his hand a small squeeze and the mysterious knight turned his head to look at him curiously. "He must be loved by all his people." That brought a smile to Blaine's face.

"Indeed he is. But he is full of sorrow, despite his outwardly happy persona," he replied, taking an easy left and pulling Christopher along with him. The young knight frowned and lifted his free hand to fix a strand of hair that had flopped into his face from his perfect hairdo. "You are very feminine for a knight," Blaine said, changing the subject. He knew that Christopher was probably well aware of the king's sorrow and did not feel as though he had to elaborate. Another delicate closed mouth smile graced Christopher's face and Blaine felt his heart flutter yet again. What was with this boy?

Christopher seemed to think out his words carefully as they turned yet another corner. Blaine did not say anything. He let the other take his time. "I am not attracted to females," were the first words out of Christopher's mouth. Blaine felt his heart skip a beat. Had he heard right? This young knight was gay, such as himself. Did that mean he might just have a chance? Oh dear. Why was he even thinking about this? He scolded himself in his head. "And I do prefer looking fashionable. Of course, that is not really a very easy task when one is a knight," Christopher went on. Sir Anderson had to agree. When you were a knight you had to look like everyone else. "Though I will say that I have the shiniest armor of all." That caused Blaine to laugh and he came to a stop in front of a set of double doors.

"That you do Sir Colfer." Christopher smiled lightly at him and dropping the other's hand, raised his to place on Blaine's shoulder. A shiver went up the other knight's spine as he felt the warm grasp connect to his body. He wanted nothing more at that very moment than to kiss Christopher.

"Please, I was under the impression that we were friends," Christopher said. Blaine's breath caught in his throat. Those words meant something to him. He had hardly known this knight and already he was calling him his friend. He wondered if Christopher could ever want him the way he wanted Christopher. But than he realized that he had not told Christopher that like him, he was not attracted to the female population. He opened his mouth and closed it again, realizing it was rude to talk when someone else clearly wasn't finished speaking. "Call me Christopher," if you will, he said.

Oddly enough a weird thought went right through Blaine's mind as he regained his senses and placed a hand on the doorknob of one of the two doors they were standing in front of. _I'd much rather call you Kurt_. He had no idea why that had flickered through his mind. He didn't know what the missing prince looked like and had know way of knowing whether there was a real possibility that Christopher was really the prince despite the fact that his history seemed to comply with that of Kurt's. Instead, he gave a light nod of his head.

A moment of silence passed between them as Blaine turned the knob of the door and pushed it open. "Well, here you are Christopher. This is Prince Kurt's room. Or it was. Apologies if it resembles the room of an eight year old. No one has set foot in here since he disappeared so it has remained almost as if it has been frozen in time," he said. Christopher stepped into the room. It had a high ceiling and a very large four-poster canopy. Every toy an eight-year-old boy could want was stored neatly in the vast room. Another set of double doors lead to a closet. A third lead to a bathroom. This room was larger than a two-bedroom apartment. Despite Kurt having been a boy, there were unmistakably toys and things that would have belonged to a little girl. Signs that he was not exactly a straight kid.

Blaine turned from the doorway, intending to leave Christopher to settle in and head to the west tower, at which he was scheduled for guard duty shortly. But Christopher's delicate voice stopped. "Wherever are you going Blaine?" he asked. The sweet nature of the question was enough to fill Blaine's stomach with butterflies. He slowly turned back to face him. Christopher was standing a few paces inside the room, hands clasped neatly behind his back, watching him with a look that seemed so much like a look of longing. Unless the knight was misinterpreting the expression. He didn't know Christopher well enough to read him yet.

The eighteen-year-old stepped closer to the doorway and sighed gently. How he wanted badly to kiss this other. Christopher was so incredibly beautiful. But would he welcome it? He tried to appear put together and smiled lightly. "I have to go to the west tower. I'm due for guard duty." Christopher looked as though he had been punched in the stomach and Blaine felt badly for him. He didn't want to leave Christopher anymore than Christopher appeared to want him to.

Just than, a page showed up and bowed. "Many apologies for the interruption Sir Anderson," he said to Blaine. He nodded his head to Christopher, not knowing the other's name. "But his highness has asked me to tell you that you are relieved of duties for the week in order to make sure our guest is adapting well." Christopher looked as though Christmas had come early and Blaine had to try his hardest not to give the page the same expression. Instead, he nodded his thanks. The page bowed again and hurried off down the hall.

"Well," Christopher said as the page disappeared. He took several steps forward so that he was within arms reach of Blaine. "I guess that solves that issue." Another delicate closed mouth smile graced his face and he held out his hand, which Blaine noted he'd removed the glove from. His heart felt as though it were about to stop as he lifted his own hand to place in the other's. Oh how their hands seemed to fit ever so perfectly together. Again, Blaine was glad he was wearing his gloves. The last thing he wanted was for Christopher to feel the sweat that was once more covering his palms. The other knight gently pulled Blaine into the room and into his embrace. Blaine kicked the door of the room shut, not hard enough to slam it but enough to close it firmly.

Not a word was spoken for several seconds. Christopher moved backwards, stepping ever closer to the prince's bed, which had been untouched for ten years. He pulled Blaine along with him, all the while keeping that delicate closed mouth smile on his face. The look was making the young knight melt over and over again. He couldn't help it. He hardly knew Christopher but he was already falling in love with this beautiful boy. If it so happened that it turned out he was Prince Kurt, there would probably be some controversy and Blaine knew that he would have to take the dilemma to the king. He didn't want Burt to find rage in the fact that his youngest knight was in love with his son. But at the moment, it was not proven that Christopher was really Kurt and so Blaine allowed those thoughts to soar right out of his head as Christopher pulled him along.

There was a gentle bumping motion as all too soon and not soon enough, the back of Christopher's knees hit the bed. Without missing a beat the young knight allowed himself to fall back on the mattress pulling Blaine with him so that the other was straddling him, looking down at the beautiful creature beneath him. Christopher reached up his free hand and ran it down Blaine's cheek. Blaine shivered at the touch.

"You are too gorgeous to be just a knight," Christopher said. Blaine was taken aback by the comment but was pleased at the same time. He turned his head so that his lips could place gentle kisses in the caress of the other's hand. The smile on Christopher's face only lit more at the feel of Blaine's lips on his hand. He traced a finger over them, wanting to feel them on his own.

"I could say the same thing about you," Blaine replied aware of how breathless he sounded. A flush covered the already naturally rosy cheeks of the boy beneath him. He wanted to feel skin on skin suddenly and inwardly cursed the many layers of a knight's attire. It didn't help that with both of them being knight's it was double the layers to get to the skin. He wondered if the rest of Christopher's body was just as milky white and pale as his beautiful face. Blaine couldn't take it any longer. He dropped his face lower, bringing them within kissing distance. "I want to kiss you," he whispered in his breathless voice.

Christopher smiled yet again. His smile could really light up a whole room. The young knight melted all over again and found himself falling deeper in love with this mysterious boy. "Than kiss me," Christopher whispered back. That was the only green light Blaine needed before he closed the distance and sealed his lips to Christopher's.

Stars went off in Blaine's head as his lips moved with the other's. His eyes shut almost immediately. One of his hands graced up Christopher's side and came to rest on his pale cheek. The other wrapped itself firmly around the boy's slender waist, pulling his body closer, an awkward sort of feeling what with all the armor between the two of them. Christopher allowed the hand that he had rested on Blaine's cheek to creep up into the knight's gelled hair. His other hand rested on Blaine's back, pressing gently against it to increase the closeness of their bodies. He moaned into the kiss. The simple sound sent Blaine's entire body on fire and he licked out his tongue, begging entrance into the other's mouth. Christopher obliged and Blaine allowed his tongue to explore and taste the wonderfulness that was the inside of the other's mouth.

Just as Blaine's body was crying out to take things further, there was as sudden knock on the door. The two of them jumped and Blaine scrambled to his feet, just in time to see the king entering the room. The knight bowed hastily and Christopher sat up, tongue sliding ever so delicately across his swollen lips. Blaine wondered how the hell the other had the guts to do something like that in front of the king. But Burt seemed not to notice. He gave Blaine a nod of the head, which the knight took to mean he was allowed to rise.

"As I am sure you know by now Sir Colfer, this was my son's room," Burt said. Christopher gave a nod of his head. "I want you to make yourself at home. I want you to be comfortable. You will not sleep in the knight's quarters. I won't hear of it." Burt gave his head a sharp shake and that was when Blaine realized that Burt did indeed believe that Christopher was really his missing son. He was going to make an attempt to treat him as such without appearing that he was.

"Wouldn't that be seen as unfair to the other knights, your highness?" Christopher asked. Blaine wanted to kiss him again. He was very unselfish. The king smiled rather shortly and took a few steps forward.

"Perhaps, but you are not one of my knights and I will treat you as any other guest in this castle, only more so. As such," he paused and looked at Blaine. "Sir Anderson, you are to stay with him at all times, including sleeping hours. You've been promoted to his personal guard." That threw Blaine for a loop and he opened his mouth to say something but the king smiled and went on. "Good day to you both." Without another word, he turned and left the room, shutting the doors behind him.

"What exactly do you suppose that was about?" Christopher asked, stunned into silence for a few moments.

Blaine turned and looked at him. "Correct me if I'm wrong but I do believe he thinks you're really his missing son."


End file.
