#soaaf

I'm going to leave this up because the fic is here, and there's a lot of fic related stuff, and when/if I do come back to soaaf, I'll announce it here.

I love all of you, and I'm sorry that I have not yet been able to see this fic through to the end. It's just... not coming to me, and I have a lot of mixed feelings about how I have handled different issues and characters within the fic when I read over it. So it's entirely possible that in a few months I'll be back and able to present you with a streamlined, working fic that is more than just a spattering of indulgent porn that somehow worked itself into a plot. We'll see.

Lizzy - The eldest. She looks a lot like Blaine; short of stature, built a bit stockier than most of her siblings, with short & dark curly hair as  well as skin that tans rather beautifully. She does have Kurt’s eyes, though. She’s a bit of a firecracker, rather bossy, and has a tendency to make snap decisions based on whims, rather than logic. She’s very much the ‘listen to your heart’ sort of girl. She and Kysh have always been closest of the siblings, although when they were younger they both spent a lot of time with Jeff and Nick’s twins, and the elder three’s favorite game was ‘ditch the stick in the mud’- the stick in the mud being Kysh. She’s a penchant for drama and a love for surprising people.

Kysh - Not actually all that much of a stick in the mud. To little Lizzy, Rowan, and Thea the term ‘stick in the mud’ could apply to pretty much anyone who was sane. Kysh is two years younger than Lizzy and the sensible, subdued sort. He’s not very romantic (at all- really) or dramatic. He’s got Kurt’s build, but Blaine’s hair and eyes. He also has Kurt’s complexion, ie: while Lizzy goes all lovely and glow-y when she’s been out in the sun, Kysh either burns spectacularly or sprouts a multitude of freckles. He’s not very quick to anger, but has a sharp wit and a lingering bitterness about being called a stick in the mud. He’s also a natural leader and extremely compassionate, and likes history and traditions. Squires for Sebastian.

Nessa - Also built more like Kurt, and looks probably the most like him of any of the kiddies; tall, slender, light brown hair (although it is curly in that loose, stretched out curls sort of way), a pale complexion and Kurt’s eyes. She’s an elegant sort of beauty who, like Kysh, does not have any particular interest in matters of the heart. She’s promised to Tau and while she enjoys his company she thinks of him more as a brother than a lover. By the time she’s sixteen she’ll be an adept sorceress, although one of average power (except when someone’s angered her; in that case she gets rather scary, but it probably has more to do with the way her magic makes her look at those times then the actual amount of power expended- Like an illusion sort of thing). More interested in scholarly pursuits than Lizzy and Kysh. (Lizzy enjoys a good fight, and one day wants to be remembered as a warrior queen, while Kysh aspires to knighthood to protect the less powerful and help those in need.)

Eli - Is, in fact, a stick in the mud. Very scholarly. Not my favorite of Kurt and Blaine’s children. Also looks more like Kurt, and is the only of their children to not have curly hair (although it is dark). He’s not unkind, but he doesn’t make much effort to understand other people’s points of view and can be easily exasperated. He also has a penchant for believing that he is more clever than most everyone else, not unlike Kysh, and while he is intelligent, he’s not so smart as he’d like to think (unlike Kysh). Eventually marries the heir to the throne of Fabré.

Liam - A miniature Blaine in looks. Big curly hair, big hazel eyes, and basically all of the adorableness. Likes playing in mud and is absolutely best friends with Maven, Jeff and Nick’s youngest. He’s a little bit insane, and probably has the most in common with Lizzy (of all the children), but lacks her hot temper. Eventually he’ll follow in Kysh’s footsteps (along with Maven) and train to become a knight.

-

Annddd I dunno if you care about the other children, but I have them in my brain, so I’ll spit ‘em out anyway.

Rowan - One of Jeff and Nick’s twins. He’s tall, broad shouldered and rather ruggedly handsome. Is the only of Jeff and Nick’s children to have Nick’s dark hair and keeps it a bit long and shaggy. Also has a crooked nose from a break that was healed badly by a friend studying healing while at the university.. He and his twin sister, Thea, were both very good friends with Lizzy as children. They spent a great amount of time getting up to mischief and doing all sorts of things they weren’t supposed to, while Kysh stood by and worried about getting into trouble. Along with Thea is one of the most powerful magic users to be born in the last century, at least. Enjoys learning and tends to regard warrior types as buffoons, even if he knows there are plenty of them that aren’t. He and Thea both went off to study magic at the age of ten, breezed through (while simultaneously raising hell), and achieved a ‘master’ status two years earlier than most, at 16. After that they both left for the Tribelands to train magic users there and do good, ect. He’s the progressive type that regards many traditions are archaic and thinks chivalry is a stupid, impossible ideal. He’s also very flirty. Has a soft spot a mile wide for children and animals.

Thea - Tall, broad shouldered, with short light blond hair. Probably had a bit of a crush on Lizzy when they were children, but it was never serious and she quickly grew out of it. She and Rowan share many traits; mischievous, clever, flirty. She has more of a reverence for traditions that he does, though, and tends to be more tolerant of those less intelligent than herself than he is. She also doesn’t share his views on warrior-types. As talented and powerful in magic as her brother. They have never been truly apart in all of their lives. Loves animals but is less inclined toward children, for the most part. is a general badass.

Maven - Super blond, super crazy. Basically all of Jeff and Nick’s kiddies like to get into trouble. Best friends with Liam. Has a serious sweet tooth. Like Liam he is essentially a tiny ball of adorableness, weirdness, and sunshine. Will eventually train for knighthood with Liam (much to Rowan’s exasperation).

Tau - Asta’s green eyes and a coloring closer to that of his father. Basically my baby child, I love this kid (I love pretty much all of them, though, really. They are all my favorites). Raised by Asta on the Plain, where he faced a lot of hardships because of his parentage. He has a complicated relationship with the idea of his father- a respect for a man he knows was a great warrior and a good person, and a lingering resentment for the father whom he never knew,  and whose parentage he has always been mocked for.  But his relationship with his mother is very close and very open. He’s a skilled warrior, a passionate person, a lays great value in the idea of honor, and conducting himself in an honorable way. His best friend is a sorcerer girl his own age called Osha, a Tribelands native.

…. I should stop now. Otherwise I’ll end up going into, like, a billion others and I really shouldn’t. Basically these are the main ones. Osha’s fairly important as well, but she’s not as fleshed out as the rest of them.

“You’re pregnant!” Jeff says excitedly, rushing forward and putting his hands all over Kurt’s belly, like he’s trying to feel the tiny child through the layers of fabric and his flesh. “Oh, this is marvelous.”

“This is inconvenient,” Wes corrects him, giving Kurt and Blaine a disapproving look, as if it’s entirely their fault (which, okay, yes, it is, a bit).

“Who knew you had it in you, little cousin?” Cooper crows, slapping Blaine on the back.

Kurt is not looking forward to the rest of the trip. His face feels flushed, and he bats Jeff’s hands away from his abdomen so that he can sit down on one of the cushy chairs in their sitting room. “We didn’t mean to.” He tells the room at large.

“It was rather an accident,” Blaine agrees, casting Kurt a look that is meant to comfort. “But a happy one. We just wanted you all to know. We found out for sure last night. The trip will be a little shorter than we had planned; we’ll stay for Tau’s blessing, and a few days after, to be polite and settle a few more matters, and then we will be back to Dalton.” Kurt loves that Blaine can sound so steady, so sure, although he knows that his husband is just as frightened as he is.

“We should put you on bed rest, Kurt,” David says, and the elder members of their company, consisting of Cooper, Shue, and Marti’s Hill, all rumble with agreement.

Kurt makes a very undignified sound. “I am little more than a month and a half along- I should perhaps not be running any races - but I do not think it is necessary that I lie in bed all day! I am to lunch with the Lady Asta today, and perhaps go for a walk. I will not overexert myself- but if I were to simply stay in all day, it would raise suspicions. Which is the exact opposite of what we wish to do.”

Wes looks as if he wants to argue, but Blaine shoots him a challenging glare, heavy with the kind of royal influence he so seldom uses.

After that, they talk of other things, although Jeff stays pressed close to Kurt on the love seat, eyes hovering on his face whenever he thinks he can get away with it.

When most of the group departs, and Jeff hovers, Kurt says; “Stay for a bit- I wanted to ask you about that tunic you wore last night.”

It’s not a very good excuse- Jeff has terrible taste and Kurt dislikes most of his clothes- but the other carrier looks relieved, and nudges Nick out the door after Blaine and the rest of the men.

“Well?” Kurt asks, once they are alone, quirking one eyebrow at the blond.

Jeff twists his hands together, almost shyly- which is not like him at all. “Aren’t you scared?” He asks, “Not just about- the obvious-“ he gestures vaguely with one hand, casting his eyes around the foreign décor of the room. “But about- everything?”

Kurt’s heart twists, and he nods. “Yes- yes, of course, how could I not?” He asks, “I’m terrified.”

One moment Jeff is across the room, the next, he is embracing Kurt in a tight hug. “I am too- that’s why Nick and I haven’t- well, that and I don’t know if I’m ready for babies- I want to adventure still, to travel and hunt bandits. But mostly it’s- that.”

He understands the fear- of course he does. He’s sure most women experience it too- there’s so much that can go wrong, even with a healer around. “Well, I guess I’m the test run then,” he tells Jeff with a smile, patting his back comfortingly, “If all goes well with me, you and Nick should consider trying. If you want to, that is.”

“I do,” Jeff says, beaming, “Very much. Maybe in another year or so, but I think I do want children. And I’m sure Nick does as well- although he’d never say as much and risk pressuring me.”

“He’s of the good sort, your Nick is,” Kurt laughs, when they part.

“He really is,” Jeff agrees, and they say their goodbyes, Jeff hurrying to catch up with the rest of the group, while Kurt changes for his lunch with Asta.

He wears a thin cotton shirt, rather than the decorative tunics that he favors, conscious of the healer’s warning about over-heating. He decides that, for once, it is okay to dress for comfort rather than fashion. He still makes sure that his hair is arranged perfectly and that he looks pleasant, of course, but there is none of his usual flare to the outfit.

When a servant comes to escort him to Asta’s chambers for the meal, he is attended not only by Michael and Noah, but also by Sir David (the elder) and Cooper.

“This is really a bit excessive,” he mutters to them, but offers no further complaints. He understands, even if he does not like it. He isn’t only worrying about himself any longer.

The princess consort is waiting for him at a small table, situated on a balcony that overlooks the grounds of the palace. She is wearing a dress made of sheer white fabric that ripples in the dry wind, and her dark hair is twisted up atop her head. There are not so many things that make Kurt feel plain anymore but Asta of the Tribe Lands makes him feel like an ungainly poor boy from the Lower City all over again. She, in a way, reminds him of the great marble statues of the gods; beautiful, elegant, and good, but terrifying in a way. Kurt thinks he would not enjoy being on her bad side.

“Kurt,” she says, turning her head from the view below them, “You look well rested. Sit- we can talk, and I’ll call for some tea. You must take some of this herbal bled from Rashtuk back to Dalton with you- it was a gods’ send to me those first few months with Tau. Soothes the stomach” When he casts a careful glance at the two servant girls present; one hovering in the archway leading to the main chambers, the other tending an amused Tau with a toy just inside, she nods at each in turn; “Marley and Sunshine. Do not worry, they will not tell a soul.”

She says it with such confidence, such complete faith, that he believes it. He sits in the seat across from her, smiling. “I could have used some of that on the boat here,” he admits, “Every time I caught a whiff of something the baby didn’t agree with, well- it was not pleasant.”

She nods, as Sunshine comes over and pours tea for each of them, smiling as if recalling her own pregnancy. “It gets better. Although later all other sorts of strange things will happen with your body. You’ll want to eat things you never could have imagined, and your ankles will swell. I wanted Kysh constantly.”

Kurt tilts his head curiously, “What do you mean?”

Asta laughs, covering her mouth with on hand, eyes mischievous, “Oh, I’d forgotten- you Daltonians are so… I do not know the word for it. Innocent? I wanted him. For my pleasure.”

“Oh!” Kurt says, his face flushing darkly and his eyes dropping, “I- oh. Yes. I understand.” He takes a large swallow of the tea to avoid having to look at her again.

It’s strange, the ease with which she broaches the subject. Even Rachel had approached it with some sort of scandal in her tone. Asta speaks of sex as if it is second nature to her. “I hear it is different for everyone, but there were times when I could hardly think because of it. Surely you and Blaine are no strangers to the feeling.”

“Well, I- no, we’re not,” Kurt admits, sure that his face is bright red, “It’s just not something we often speak of in Dalton.”

“Kysh has mentioned. I cannot imagine why.”

“It’s just not… proper, I suppose,” Kurt attempts to explain, sipping from her tea. “That’s the way it has always been.”

She nods, but still looks perplexed by the notion, and changes the subject, “It is tiring, but… worth it.” She flashes an affectionate smile towards Tau, tended by the girl, Marley. The girl picks up the little boy and brings him to his mother’s waiting arms. It looks… nice. She looks at him with such love that Kurt’s heart aches, and his hands settle over his abdomen. He cannot feel anything yet, no swell or bump, but he knows that it is there. He knows that soon his and Blaine’s child will start to grow. “Children are such a blessing- in the Tribe Lands, not so many survive. It is a harsh place, and we do not have so many gifted healers as there are here in the north.” Kurt thinks to point out that this is not north at all- this is south, but then recalls how very far south the Tribe Lands lie, deep in the Great Plain. This is very far north indeed, for her. “I love my people and my land, but there are many things we can learn from the northerners. I had a hard birth with Tau, and if it weren’t for the healers here I do not believe that I would have survived. Because of them, the complications were minor- I needn’t have feared for anything. I am sure that you and your child will both be fine. There is very little the day’s healers cannot fix.”

She is right. Kurt knows that. He knows that he also has access to some of the best healers in the realm- that his chances are good. But he is still nervous. He cannot help it. He thinks that it is a normal fear.

The rest of their luncheon passes pleasantly; afterwards Asta feeds Tau from her breast- which gives Kurt a pang of jealousy. He will never be able to do the same for his child, will have to find a nursemaid to feed his child at first, until he is able to feed he or she from a bottle. There seems to be such closeness between the Asta and Tau in that moment. “I am sorry- does this bother you?” She asks when she catches his stare, “I did not think.”

“No, no-“ Kurt says, hurriedly, “No, it does not bother me. I was just thinking. He is a beautiful child.”

She smiles, cupping Tau’s head with one hand and nodding, “That he is.”

Kurt spends the afternoon playing with Tau, laughing at the jubilant little boy with bright green eyes and easy, two-toothed smile. Blaine and Kysh join them before supper- which is to be a quieter affair than the previous night’s- and Blaine is quick to join Kurt on the floor, allowing Tau to bite his index finger and drool all over his chest. “You look beautiful today,” Blaine tells him sweetly, kissing his mouth.

“You think that you are so charming,” Kurt laughs, “What did you lads get up to all day?”

“I kicked Kysh’s arse at archery- he is quite the sore loser,” Blaine brags, tilting his head back at Kysh, who is pouring himself a glass of water. “Isn’t that right?”

“I liked you better when we were boys,” Kysh shot back dryly, “When you let me beat you because you thought me pretty.”

That startles a laugh out of Kurt, who looks to Blaine for an explanation. His husband’s face is slowly growing redder with each passing moment. “You are a bumrag.” He mumbles.

Kysh raises his glass in a toast and downs it in one gulp.

“Blaine! You never told me that!” Kurt says.

“It hardly matters- I was a boy and it was a passing fancy,” Blaine replies, still very embarrassed, “You know how it is. I’m sure you had infatuations.”

It’s Kurt’s turn to flush, and shrug. “Not really. Before you- I never thought about it much. I hadn’t ever met anyone who I…”

Blaine blinks at him, cheeks still flushed prettily, eyes wide. “Gods, you’re young, aren’t you?” He asks, “I always forget that- you never seem… I love you, very much.” He says, and leans over a happily gurgling Tau to kiss Kurt again. Asta chuckles behind Kurt, and Kysh lets out a low whistle.

“I’m not so young- I just never met anyone I could want, before I wanted you.” He explains with a sigh, when their mouths part.

“You northerners,” Asta mumbles, “are so very strange.”

Kurt laughs, and nuzzles Blaine’s cheek affectionately, uncaring of their audience until Tau’s plump fist taps his arm insistently, and the little one begins to make sounds of protest at being ignored. “Yes, yes,” Kurt says to him, pulling away from Blaine and lifting Tau into his lap, “You are the most important thing in the room, obviously, little prince.”

Tau squeals in happiness when Kurt blows a raspberry against his belly, in the way he used to do to Roland when he was little like this. Blaine is looking at him fondly, and Kurt smiles back, tickling Tau underneath the chin.

“You will be excellent parents,” Kysh says, picking Tau up from where he sits between Kurt and Blaine, bouncing him up in the air.

And Kurt thinks that he is probably right. The huge, excited grin on Blaine’s face tells him that his husband feels the same.

Dinner is a small, intimate affair; the Daltonian party Kysh, Asta, and a few of their trusted friends.

They speak of politics for a bit, but eventually tell stories from their homelands. Asta's are the most interesting, Kurt thinks, but Wes has some good ones too.

Afterwards, he and Blaine walk back to their chambers with their companions circled so tightly around them that Kurt keeps bumping into Noah's back and Cooper keeps stepping on the backs of his heels.

"It won't be like this when we get home, will it?" Kurt asks Blaine once they are in their room with the door double-locked - because he thinks he might actually die if he has to spend his entire pregnancy surrounded by guards.

Blaine strips off his tunic, curls ruffled; "I don't know. I hope not?"

"I'll run away," Kurt threatens playfully, slipping out of his day clothes and settling onto the bed to watch Blaine unlace his trousers.

"Only if you bring me with you," Blaine says, finally divesting himself of the cloth and crawling across the cushions toward Kurt, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "We can run off together, build a cottage in the mountains. Raise goats."

Kurt laughs at the thought of Blaine chasing down a goat. It's absurd. "I do not think you would be cut out for the life of a goatherd, my love," He tells him, nudging Blaine's nose with his own.

Blaine makes a face of mock affront and snuggles into Kurt's chest. "You have no faith in me."

"I have faith in your ability to be a terribly heroic and charming prince, and one day a wonderful king," Kurt assures him, stroking a hand through Blaine's curls, "And most importantly a loving father." He laughs a little when Blaine begins to trace patterns over his abdomen. "But, no, I most certainly do not have faith in your ability to tend goats."

"I'm going to be the best father I possibly can," Blaine whispers to him, still tracing light patterns over Kurt's tummy, "Really, truly. I'm going to love our children so much that they'll probably hate me for it, but I'm going to be there for them and love them, always. I'll read them stories and sing them songs and tell them I love them ten times every day, and twice that many times on holidays."

Kurt kisses the top of Blaine's head, smiling and feeling giddy. "I know. And I'll do the same." He thinks of Blaine setting on the floor of a nursery with a inky-haired baby in his arms and his heart throbs in his chest. Blaine will be such a soft father, he thinks. He'll let their babies get away with absolutely anything, so Kurt will probably have to be more firm, but he doesn't mind. They'll be so, so very  happy.

In the morning, they breakfast with the emperor, per his request. Kysh and Asta do not join them- only Kurt and Blaine and the old man, at a small, round table in a colorful room with high ceilings painted like the night sky. At the foot of his chair, two large cats lay. Kurt has never before seen their like; golden yellow coats with coal black spots, round ears, long, powerful looking tails. When one yawns, Kurt sees a mouthful of long white teeth. He might be more fearful if they didn't seem so completely uninterested in he and Blaine. The emperor feeds them strips of raw meat from a golden plate with his fingers.

"Cheetahs," he says, when he catches Kurt staring at them. "They are a cat from the Plain with the most incredible speed. My mother kept a lioness, but it always frightened me as a boy. I was convinced it would eat me if I came too close to her. Kysh, I think, will bring lions back into the palace one day. But I have raised three of these lovelies since I came to the throne and I would not have any other animal as a companion. They are more loyal than any dog and more beautiful than any lion. The kings of old always kept cheetahs- my great-great-great-grandfather kept twenty of them at one time, and would travel with them everywhere."

"They are beautiful," Kurt admits, "I cannot imagine having such a companion."

"It has not been customary in Dalton to keep royal animals since my mother's grandfather. But my father's family still sometimes keeps mountain wolves," Blaine says, "I think my cousin Cooper plans to do away with the tradition- he has no fondness for them."

Wolves. Kurt doesn't blame Cooper- he's never had a cat or a dog before. He likes the birds of the aviary in the courtyard near he and Blaine's chambers at home, and they are pet enough for him.

"What a shame- I have never seen a wolf, the climate here is far too hot for such creatures, but I imagine that they are quite a sight," the old man sips from his golden cup, and smiles wryly. "I could arrange for you to take some animals back with you as additions to your menagerie. I understand that Dalton's is quite impressive, but lacking in some of our more common animals. You should have Kysh take you through ours."

"You are too kind, Your Excellency," Blaine answers politely, "We would love to see your animals, but I'm afraid my mother would scold me if I were to return home with a ship full of foreign creatures. I was always bringing mice and stray cats in when I was a child and she'd think I had returned to bad habits."

The emperor has a strange, deep laugh; "Very well- mothers often know best."

"That they do- and the queen is a most formidable one," Kurt tells him very seriously, because Amelia is most definitely formidable. Not in the way Asta is- Asta is all hard angles and silent strength. Amelia has a cleverness about her that isn't obvious at first, and a will of iron that only Blaine's father can soften.

They eat in silence; flatbread dipped in sweet jams and a spicy sort of rice pudding. Blaine tears his bread into small, neat little squares, and scrapes excess jam off on the edge of the bowl so as not to make a mess. Kurt has always been a polite eater, but he's never seen someone as careful with their food as Blaine is.

Afterwards, the emperor encourages Kurt to pet one of his great cats. Its pelt is a rough, strange texture, and it butts its head up against his hand like a giant house cat.

"Truly, they're marvelous," Kurt tells their host, before they leave him, "I've never seen anything of their like before."

Kysh does take them on a tour through the Imperial Menagerie in the afternoon, along with the rest of the Daltonian party. Kurt has seen lions before, Dalton has a pair, but some of the other animals are beyond foreign to him. There are giraffes, yellow and brown with necks like the trunks of trees, and a snake as long Blaine parents ' private formal dining table. There are also even more birds than the Daltonian Aviary contains; peafowls with tails like huge fans, tucans with huge beaks, and macaws in so many colors that Kurt's eyes hurt.

"Tigers," Kysh says, when they reach a deep, pit-like enclosure, dug into the ground and furnished with several shady trees and large climbing rocks. Kurt leans over the railing and feel his breath catch at the site of the huge cats- far larger than the emperor's cheetah's and more colorful than the lions. Bright orange with inky black stripes. "They were gifts from some Vakati nobleman."

"I've never seen their like!" Crows Nick, clearly amazed, leaning far over the railing to look eagerly. "They're positively beautiful!"

"They're positively savage," Sebastian drawls, giving the animals down in the enclosure a distrustful look. "When I lived in Vakat, tigers were the stories mothers told their children to keep them in their beds at night."

"I'll admit, they are not known for having gentle dispositions," Kysh replies, "But they are fascinating animals."

They move on (Jeff has to forcibly drag his husband away from the tigers), see more strange animals and some that are familiar. The last enclosure they come to is a pit, like all of the large carnivores have.

It is not a particularly well decorated pen, a few trees for shade and several piles of dirt. Kurt cannot see the animals contained; only the lumps of them hidden in the shade of one of the trees.

  Kurt’s rest that night is uneasy. He drifts in and out of consciousness, wakes several times to Blaine’s hand on his belly, fingers splayed out over it as if to protect the life they think may be inside while he sleeps. He isn’t sure what keeps him for a pleasant sleep- anxiousness and fear, most likely. There are a lot of things that can go wrong on a trip like this, and now Kurt may have an extra life to fret over.

Still, he pretends to be asleep so that Mike does not notice his unease and start to worry, and does not open his eyes for the day until Blaine presses a kiss to his cheek and murmurs; “Wake up and have some breakfast, my love.”

They all change clothes in a tent set up by servant aboard the boat. Kurt is a bit unsteady on his feet, but it is not terrible, and the fresh, indigo tunic he changes into makes him feel refreshed and put-together, even if his nerves are buzzing under his skin.

They arrive at the City of the Sun by mid-morning, and Kurt can tell why it is called that. Taller than every other structure of the city, a needle-like tower of yellow stone rises, topped in a mass of gold that catches and reflects the sun's beams, gorgeous and strange, almost hard to look at for the beauty and the light shining off of it.

"It's the Temple of the Sun," Blaine explains, "Kysh's great grandfather had it built, to be the greatest structure ever built.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kurt says, and turns his face into Blaine’s neck to whisper quietly: “I like ours better.”

Blaine snickers, presses his forehead to Kurt’s, “It’s a very different style. But so do I.”

There is a distinct difference in the style, the feel of them. Dalton’s temples, for the most part, may not be visible from outside of the city, but they have an ancient, sacred feel to them- no one is even sure quite when they were built or who built them- they pre-date recorded history and have always stood, proud, sturdy, and beautiful, with their statues and the stories people tell of them and they gods they represent, as Dalton and its people changed and grew around them, as the city was built around them. This great golden needle might be beautiful and magnificent, but it has none of the age or mystery of Dalton’s ancient marble temples.

People have lined up along the riverbank, watching eagerly as they slide past them. Kurt waves to them, gentle twists of his wrist that he hopes don’t seem over-practiced or too stiff.

The docks have been kept clear of people, so that their landing is kept as easy as possible.

Something on the shore catches Kurt’s eye and he freezes, openly staring at it.

“Blaine. Blaine- what are those?” Kurt asks, craning his neck to get a better look at the great gray beasts.

“Elephants!” Blaine laughs, intertwining their fingers. “The preferred mode of transportation for visiting royalty.”

Kurt is suddenly less curious about them. “Oh- oh, no. Blaine, I can’t even ride a horse-“

“It’s much easier, sweetling- someone else steers- we just sit in a litter at the top. Don’t worry,” Blaine hurriedly soothes him, thumb rubbing over the back of Kurt’s hand reassuringly. Kurt can Blaine are the firs to step off of the boat and onto the dock. Kurt’s legs feel a bit wobbly under his at first, but Blaine steadies him with a hand at the small of his back, let’s Kurt lean into him a bit. Accepting help is sometimes okay, Kurt thinks, even as he curses himself for needing it.

The Star of the South is a handsome man, with bronze skin stretched over the taunt muscles of his chest and long dark hair littered with golden beads kept in a ponytail with a gold clasp. Like all of the Kirishi, he is more bare than Kurt has seen any Daltonian man besides Blaine; dressed in nothing but a strip of vibrant red fabric hung from a belt of gold medallions, baring one leg all the way to the hip and hiding little more than his manhood and the upper thigh of his other leg. A small ruby glistens in one nostril, and a gold amulet hangs around his neck, resting against his chest with an emerald the size of an infant's fist set in it. Each finger is adorned with rings and gemstones, so many colors that glitter and sparkle in the bright sun of the Kirishi morning, as well as gold drops hanging from each earlobe and rings in his eyebrows. Even one flat nipple is pierced through with gold.

Beside him, his wife is just as tall, with skin several shades darker and almond shaped eyes of piercing, vibrant green. Her hair is kept in long, thin braids that each end in a golden adornment and are pulled into a high ponytail. She looks... fierce. Fiercer than any woman he has met thus far, her breasts barely hidden by a tight black leather vest that is laced in the front but still reveals a long, not  particularly thin, strip of skin down her chest and waist, before it ends just above her abdomen. The length of fabric that hangs from her belt is longer than her husband's, and emerald green, but it also completely bares one leg all the way to her hip. And just as much gold adorns her body, glimmering at her belly-button, along her ears, in bracelets around her wrists.

They are both incredibly exotic and unlike anyone Kurt has ever seen, but he masks his amazement and tries to maintain his princely appearance. It's a little hard, considering the heat, and all the layers he is wearing, but he thinks he does a good job of it.

"Blaine," says the prince, coming forward with open arms. He and Blaine clasp forearms, and then hug tightly, clapping each other on the back. "It is so good to see you, my brother."

"As it is to see you," Blaine responds as they pull apart.

"You have not met my beloved Asta. Princess Consort of the Empire and Queen of the tribe lands that lie in the Great Plain."

Blaine clasps her hand warmly in both of his, "A pleasure, my lady." He says with a smile, and takes Kurt's hand, "Kurt, my husband and prince of Dalton." Kurt bows to the prince and princess respectively, but cannot help but squeak in surprise when he is pulled into a tight hug from the tall, tan skinned man.

"You are family to us, there is no need to bow, Kurt of Dalton." The prince says warmly, and presses a fond kiss to Kurt's rapidly flushing cheek. "The songs do not do you justice."

"I- thank you, my lord. That is very kind of you to say." Kurt responds when he is released, face burning. Beside him, Blaine snickers. Kurt hopes the way he stomps his boot down on his husband's foot will go unnoticed. Judging by the way the corner of the princess' eyes crinkle in amusement, it doesn't.

There are a few more pleasantries exchanged, all of the Daltonian nobles introduced, before they are led toward one of the big creatures Kurt had seen from the boat.

An elephant.

The animal is massive, and its tough grey skin adorned in just as much finery as the royalty. Kurt is all at once frightened and amazed, eyes wide as saucers as he takes in the foreign creature. It's like something out of a story book. Blaine settles a hand at the small of his back, urges him forward.

The skin feels like tough leather under his fingers. Even as he touches it, the creature's long nose uncurls, curiously brushing against his arm. It's not as scary as he thought it, under the gilded tusks and painted skin, it has kind, uncannily wise eyes for an animal so large. He strokes its trunk, smiles at it. "How lovely. How absolutely... It's amazing. Beautiful. Charming. What is its name?" He asks its handler, a man in brightly colored, sheer robes.

The man gives him a name he doesn't think he'll be able to remember, let alone pronounce. Kurt strokes their noble steed a few more times, reverently, before stepping back so that they can be helped into the flashy, sparkling seats atop the creature's back.

The ride is somewhat terrifying, and the litter sways with each step, but Kurt keeps and leans against Blaine's side.

The people he sees are vibrant, their states of dress varying from bright scraps of silk to thick, heavy bolts of fabric covering them from head to toe ("Devotees of the Nameless One, one of the Kirishi's favorite gods," Blaine murmurs against his ear). He doesn't think he works the 'terrible beauty' angle very well. He smiles too much for that and next to the lady Asta, well- she is the very example of great and terrible beauty, head held up proudly, eyes piercing green and clever. Kurt hasn’t even heard her speak yet- and he hasn’t had a chance to truly make an opinion on either of the royals, but Kysh seems warm and eager, like a more playful version of Blaine, and she seems more… reserved, and serious.

Maybe a bit cold.

The palace is very different from Dalton’s- in general, Kirishi architecture is different from Daltonian- all arcs and domes to Daltonian triangles, pillars, and rectangles. Where the palace Kurt now calls home is all high-reaching spires, the Kirishi palace has a very open feel, once they have entered the huge gates surrounding it. It is tall still, yes, but not nearly as tall, with large windows and arches carved into the red stone.

They dismount, and Kysh says; “We will see my father tonight- for now, you should all have the opportunity to settle in, and rest yourselves. I know it has been a long journey.”

“Kysh,” Blaine says softly, as servants (or slaves, perhaps, Kurt thinks to himself with a pang of sorrow) come to guide their friends to their rooms. “I wonder if we might have a private word. Somewhere safe.”

Michael and Noah stand stoically at their backs, faces showing no sign of concern or confusion, although Kurt can feel the tension in them. A look of worry flashes across the Prince’s face, and the lady Asta allows one elegant brow to rise in Kurt’s direction. “Yes- of course, Blaine. Follow me.”

Kurt grips Blaine’s hand tightly in his, as they walk just a few steps behind Kysh and Asta, following them through several bright ad open halls, before turning into the palace, up several staircases, and down another long hall, through some guards standing at the double doors, who stand attentive at their approach.

“I’m afraid my guards would not be comfortable with yours joining us in private,” Kysh says, before they enter.

Blaine nods, gives orders to Noah and Mike to wait for them outside, and the double doors close behind them.

“I’m sorry to put you out like this, so soon- we just… don’t know what else to do.” Blaine says, as the native royalty led them from the entrance chamber to a smaller sitting room. Kurt squeezes his hand tightly in an attempt to comfort.

“Perhaps you can explain,” Asta suggests, and Kurt realizes she hasn’t spoken up until now, probably, for fear of her accent. It is thick, but understandable, and her voice is rich. Reserved, but certainly not cold. “Sit, please. Kysh will make us some tea.”

They do as she suggests, leaning into each other naturally as they sit on one of the low couches. The princess sits as well, perched on the mirror-image couch across from them while her husband fixes tea at a small counter behind her.

“I- we believe that I might be- with child. I am… rather late on my monthly, and have been a bit ill, a bit tired,” Kurt tells them both, and Blaine settles a hand over his abdomen, gently.

“But that is wonderful!” Says Kysh exuberantly, coming to them with a tray of tea cups. “Children are wonderful- you will both love it!” He says it with such conviction that Kurt has to smile.

It’s true, probably. Children are wonderful. And he thinks that they will love being parents. Blaine is smiling too, when Kurt chances a look. “It’s not that. We know we’ll love our child- it’s just that- we hadn’t planned for it so soon, and- we haven’t any of our healers and being… here, not in Dalton.”

Asta nods, taking a cup of tea from the tray, “It is perfectly understandable. But we will arrange for a trustworthy healer to see to you during your stay.”

“You will have the same healer who saw to Asta during her pregnancy- she’s experienced and discreet. Not a word of this will get out.” Kysh assures them, setting steaming cups before both of them on the table and sitting beside Asta.

Blaine nods, while Kurt sips on the tea. It is a rich, sweet brew, the likes of which he has never tasted before. He likes it very much. “Thank you. That is very considerate,” his husband says, relaxing a bit against Kurt’s side and lifting his own cup to his lips.

Kysh offers them both warm smiles, and says brightly; “I’ll ask for her to be sent here tonight, after the meal. But until then-“

The sound of crying comes from one of the adjoining rooms, causing Kurt and Blaine to both startle in their seats. Asta chuckled, setting her cup down and standing. “Soon enough the two of you will have to get used to that sound,” She tells the two of them, in her musical accent, and walks in the direction of the cries.

“I had forgotten!” Blaine exclaims, “I must meet my gods son!” He sounds so excited that Kurt has to smile over the rim of his cup, while Kysh laughs a full-bellied sort of laugh at Blaine’s exuberance.

Asta returns with a plump tan skinned baby on her hip and a brown-haired servant girl at her side. “This is our Tau,” she says, clear affection in her voice.

“He is lovely,” Kurt says, although he feels a bit out of sorts. He isn’t sure why- but it feels strange to see a future ruler as little more than an infant, dressed in nothing but a loin cloth. It feels strange to realize that Blaine was once a child- a baby; that he hadn’t simply sprung into existence a full-fledged prince. It truly strikes him that, one day, his child will rule Dalton- that one day he will rule Dalton, at Blaine’s side.

“He’s perfect,” croons Blaine, eye eagerly flicking from Tau to Asta’s face, “May I?”

She nods, and carefully deposits the little boy into Blaine’s waiting arms. He is a lovely baby, with smooth skin, round cheeks, coal black hair, and Asta’s unblinking green eyes. He fixes them on Blaine, reaches a chubby hand up and bops him on the nose. Blaine chuckles and presses a kiss to the small hand.

Kurt’s chest aches with longing and hope and fondness.

“You may call me Uncle Blaine, my lad,” Blaine tells Tau, words muffled a little when the baby shoves his fingers into Blaine’s mouth, “and we shall be thick as thieves, you and I.” He looks to Kysh, one eyebrow raised; “You will send him to visit me, won’t you? As your father did you?”

Kysh huffs, shrugs his shoulders, and looks pointedly to Asta. “We have no decided yet,” Asta explains, and looks pointedly at the servant who had followed her in. “You are dismissed for the evening, Marley.”

The brown haired girl bows to them and scurries out of chambers.

“Our future here is… unstable,” Asta says, once the doors have shut again. “Santana is…”

“Uneasy,” Kysh supplies, and it is clear from the look she flashes him that Asta thinks he is being too kind with his words. “We believe that she will challenge me. Her window of opportunity grows smaller with each day. You know the rules.”

“Yes, I do,” Blaine agrees, his eyes still on Tau. “Kurt does not, though. Explain to him?”

Asta is the one who says; “It is the most barbaric thing.”

“It is tradition!” Kysh objects.

“It is barbaric,” Asta repeats to Kurt, very seriously.

“Maybe a little,” Kysh concedes with a wince, “But it is the way things are done here- and it hasn’t actually… happened in at least a hundred years.” His gaze shifts to Kurt again, “It’s tradition that the eldest true born of the emperor inherit the throne. However, my ancestors did not want the heir to get soft. My people are warriors. We are proud of this. A weak and spoilt leader would never be accepted by the people. So, until the heir has truly ascended to the throne, any of his or her younger siblings may issue a challenge to his or her worthiness. And the heir must defend their claim in a one-on-one fight with their challenger.”

“To the death?” Kurt chances, feeling a bit sick to his stomach.

“To the death,” Kysh agrees.

“Barbaric.” Asta says.

Kurt has to agree with her. It is barbaric. “So your sister is going to challenge your claim. And you think she’ll win?”

Kysh looks saddened; “I am not… the shining example of Kirishi culture, at all times. My father sent me north as a boy to be educated in other’s cultures and so that one day we might hope to ally ourselves with Dalton. It worked in that Dalton and Kirish now have heirs who are very close- and that I have taken many of northern ideas and values. But in other ways, it has made me soft. I care about my siblings. Many of them care for me as well. Santana has always been hungry for power. I had hoped she’d grow out of it, and be content with an honored place among our warriors. But she has not. She is an excellent fighter, but she has never been in a war, I do not believe she has ever killed. She has no notion of what it would mean to rule and she is… selfish. If she challenges me, it is a fight to the death. I do not believe that Santana will play fair- in an even match I am a better warrior than she. But even if she does not cheat, I do not know if I have it in me to kill my own sister.”

“Half-sister,” Asta corrects, a little bitterly, “And entirely all too eager to rip into her siblings.”

“The point being- My father is ill. He has been for some time, and soon the Nameless One will come for him. Once he has passed and I am emperor Santana will not be able to challenge me without committing treason. I do not think there is any way to stop her, but I had hopes they we could… find some way to ensure the safety of Tau in the event of my death. And Asta’s, if it comes to that.”

Kurt really does feel sick. He leans into Blaine’s side, fixes his eyes on the baby boy his husband is holding. “The first step is, obviously, making me his gods father,” Blaine says, and bounces Tau. “She can’t harm him without incurring the wrath of Dalton.”

“We were hoping that further assurances for his future might be made,” Kysh admits carefully, “by some sort of… arrangement in uniting our bloodlines. Santana may be able to take my place on the throne, but she will not be a good ruler. If I fall, Asta will take Tau to the Tribe Lands, raise him there, and, when the time is right, he will return here. Gods be good, the people will be more than ready to rid themselves of Santana and it will be a quick rebellion. If he were to wed Daltonian Royalty, it would solidify his rule.”

Blaine looks to Kurt, eyes large and… sad, maybe. He must know that Kurt would never want an arranged marriage for any child of theirs. He must know that they cannot say no to this request. Kurt takes Tau gently from Blaine’s arms, looks in his bright green eyes. Asta and Kysh are good people. Asta is fierce and strong- her son will be the same. Hopefully with some of Kysh’s cheerful disposition as well. “We cannot refuse you,” He tells them, although it pains him, “But not the first born. He or she will inherit Dalton. After her, we’ll- we’ll have to try again, and…” He feels ill, speaking of children like cattle. Like pieces in a game of chess. “And Asta and Tau must come to visit us- I cannot send any child of mine away to a strange land to marry someone they’ve never met. It is too cruel. Perhaps when he has grown older, as a teenager. He could learn Daltonian ways and teach the ways of Kirish and the Tribe Lands to our children. It would be good for them.”

Blaine’s hand settles warm, low of Kurt’s back. A comforting anchor. He’d known the likelihood that his children would marry for love was small. And, well, he and Blaine hadn’t loved each other, at first. Asta and Kysh probably hadn’t either- although they seem happy (even if Asta does not seem to agree with some of Kysh’s choices. Honestly, Kurt doesn’t either. He seems ready to lie down and allow his sister to cut his throat. Kurt would be furious if Blaine so resignedly gave up his life, the security of their future together and their child’s) and affectionate. Marrying for love is ideal, but sometimes fate works out in the favor of those forced into less than ideal situations. Gods be good, Tau and whatever future child Kurt and Blaine have will get along and love each other.

“Thank you,” says Asta, “It sets my mind at ease to know that we will have a place to go if things in the south grow too dangerous.”

Kurt bounces Tau, smiles when the little boy giggles at him and closes a tiny fist around his necklace, around the ring of Blaine’s grandfather. “I’m sure he will grow to be a fine son-in-law.:

“Yes, he will,” Blaine agrees, and rests his chin on Kurt’s shoulder to tickle Tau’s neck. “Although let us hope that all of this plotting is for naught.”

“Yes, let’s.” Kysh agrees, and rubs subconsciously at his throat.

Asta changes the subject to the night’s feast, tells them about the Kirishi nobles they’ll meet and what sort of dishes they’ve planned. Before long, though, they decide it’s time to leave and freshen up; wash off the travel of the day and change into more formal clothing. They decide to wait to tell anyone in their group about their possible extra-passenger until after they know for sure, so the walk to their chambers with Michael and Noah is awkward. The guards know that there is something they aren’t telling them. Kurt feels guilty- Michael and Noah are their friends just as much as their guards. And they probably shouldn’t be keeping it from them- but there isn’t any point in upsetting anyone until they’re positive. Otherwise it’s just added stress to the two men’s already stressful jobs.

“You are amazing,” Blaine tells him, once they are in their strange, exotic rooms with the doors shut and locked behind him. “Thank you- for agreeing. I know you hardly know them- I hardly know Asta- but Kysh is like a brother to me- and you were so- diplomatic and-“

“Political?” Kurt asks, and he doesn’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does. Because he is a little bitter. He’s just promised away the life of one of his children. The thought makes him ache.

“Yes, political,” Blaine agrees, a little more solemn now, and wraps his arms around Kurt’s body, pulls him into a tight hug. “I know you… I wanted our children to marry for love too, but it’s just… not a realistic dream for us. And one day we’ll have a child helping to rule Kirish- think of the good that will do.”

“I know it is a good idea,” Kurt sighs, “that is why I agreed to it. I just… I want our children to be happy. I don’t want to think of sending off our daughter when she’s sixteen to a foreign land. It makes me feel sick.”

“That will be many, many years from now, my love,” Blaine soothes, “Do not think of it. Let us simply focus on the child we may have now,” he slides a hand between them, resting his palm over Kurt’s abdomen, “and ensure its safety and health. Leave everything else for another day.”

Kurt nods, inhales deeply and lets Blaine’s words sooth him. “If we find out tonight that I am not pregnant,” he ventures carefully, “Perhaps when we get back to Dalton…?”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, and he sounds so happy that Kurt feels light again, not so weighed down, “yes, of course, if you want to. I would love to.”

It’s a nice thought. And he supposes that as much as he is frightened of having a child, the idea of starting a family with Blaine just seems… right. He wants that for them- some semblance of normal (as much as he suspects neither of them would plan on this sort of life for themselves under normal circumstances; he thinks if he and Blaine were ‘normal’, if they had met on the street, both common-born, they’d have still been together. Maybe they’d have travelled, bards or something, and maybe have settled down after some time to start a family). They are young, but Kurt thinks he is ready, and they do have the responsibility to provide Dalton with an heir. “I want to.” He tells Blaine, and kisses him on the mouth.

Blaine kisses him back eagerly, holds him close and when Kurt feels the stirring of his husband’s cock against his thigh it makes him start to giggle. “We’ve never gone this long before.” He points out needlessly, parting their lips and nuzzling against Blaine’s cheek. “I miss it.”

“Me too,” Blaine admits, and presses kisses across Kurt’s cheek to his neck. “We should get ready for tonight.”

“Yes, we should,” Kurt agrees, and rests his cheek against Blaine’s curls for a moment before they part.

They wash up separately (by the flush on Blaine’s cheeks when he exits the washroom, Kurt has the very strong feeling that he took care of his own ‘problem’. The thought makes him feel flushed and a little jealous- but then, it wouldn’t harm anything if Kurt helped Blaine tonight, maybe with his hands or mouth. He’d have to keep that in mind), Kurt laying out his clothes while Blaine washes. When Kurt comes out of the washroom, feeling clean and pleasantly fresh, Blaine is sitting on their bed bare-chested.

With a length of dark purple fabric around his waist not unlike the one Kysh had worn.

“No,” Kurt says, eyes maybe too wide. “You are not wearing that.”

“I most certainly am,” Blaine says proudly, grinning at Kurt’s stare. “I’m showing a respect for their culture.”

“You’re showing a respect for partial nudity,” Kurt corrects, “You really, really need to wear clothes.”

“Hey, this is not nudity in Kirish- this is down-right modest!”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, and he thinks he’s being really patient, “I don’t understand you. I could never feel comfortable so exposed.”

Blaine kisses his cheek, “Sweetling, I’m comfortable and I like the freedom of it. I like my body- although I must admit that part of me is glad that you are going to stick to your Daltonian clothes. I’d be terribly nervous about all the people seeing how absolutely gorgeous you are all over.” His hands slides around Kurt’s middle, thumb rubbing at the skin at the small of his back, right over where his towel is slung.

Kurt huffs, without much feeling, and leans forward to kiss just under Blaine’s ear. “You’re sweet. And you do look… totally gorgeous.” Which is true. Blaine’s slightly tanned skin and trim waist look beautiful against the purple fabric. And his body is just… generally gorgeous. Kurt has the feeling he would look ridiculous so sparsely clothed. He knows that Blaine thinks him beautiful, and objectively, he supposes that he has a certain appeal. But he hasn’t the defined muscles of Blaine’s chest and abdomen. He’s pale and thin. He looks good in clothes, but he doesn’t think he could pull of the effortless appeal that Blaine hair in just a bolt of fabric held up by a belt of gold medallions.

Kurt dresses in a burgundy, ornately embroidered silk shirt with long, elegant sleeves, a thick dark fabric belt and dark hose. He thinks he looks very good. Blaine does too, if the way he winds an arm around his waist and kisses him before they leave their chambers is any indication.

The grand hall is… magnificent. All tall red marble with inlaid gold designs and sheer fabric hangings. Kysh is dressed similar to Blaine- similar to how he’d dressed when he’d received them. Asta on the other hand…

Kurt isn’t quite sure where to look.

She is a beautiful woman- with lean, coiled muscle and a calculated air about her that makes Kurt think of some sort of great cat. She is a lioness, in every way. And she is dressed in golden beads and coins, thin red strands of fabric, and a few rubies. Kurt has never seen so much of a woman’s skin in his life, not even earlier in the day. When she shifts and moves, he is almost sure he can see the dark of her nipples on her breasts through gaps in the revealing top.

She is a vision. And, to be fair, once he has looked around more he realizes that she is not the most scantily clad female in the hall.

None of the other Daltonian nobility has adopted the Kirishi state of dress. Kurt thinks that their eyes might actually pop out of their skulls from all the skin they are seeing. They try very hard to keep their eyes away from anywhere that might be considered rude. It makes Kurt giggle behind his hand.

The Emperor, Kysh’s father, makes a brief appearance. He seems to Kurt to be vaguely familiar, although he knows that they cannot have ever met before.

He is ancient; tanned skin with a sort of palor to it, deeply wrinkled with wiry white hair, milky eyes, and a thick scar that cuts across one eye and the bridge of his nose, all the way past one cheekbone. He may well have been handsome and strong once; Kurt can still see some of Kysh in him, but he is old and gnarled now, back bent from many long years. He kisses Kurt’s hand, speaks with vigor that does not match his appearance, and squeezes Blaine’s shoulder firmly.

Kurt cannot help but like him, although he knows little about him and hardly has the chance to speak with him before he has left again.

Kysh has an untold number of siblings, both whole and half, legitimate and bastard. He does not have the pleasure of meeting Santana, but he meets at least five other of the young princes and princesses. They have stronger accents than Kysh’s, but smile brightly.

Most of the night goes by quickly- the over-dressed Daltonians mixing well with the scantily Kirishi’s. No one is outright rude to Kurt or Jeff- but Kurt does feel as if more than one of the Kirishi nobles act a bit more coldly towards them than they do any of the others of their group.

The food itself is strange- the spices rich in a way that burns Kurt’s tongue. They dine on thin noodles soaked in some sort of spicy-sweet sauce, with fowl and hot peppers mixed in, drink a sweet wine that is unlike anything he has ever tasted (deliciously perfect), and, as a dessert, dip slices of fruit into rich dark chocolate sauce.

And when it is over the night is late. Kysh leans to Blaine and says; “We have the healer waiting in our chambers, if you would like to go to her.”

So they do.

Asta, ever silent, opens the door to a room off of the main sitting room of her and Kysh’s chambers.

The healer is a lovely woman, with cool hands and a sweet, heart-shaped face. She asks Kurt to change into a thin dressing robe and carefully pressed her adept fingers along his throat, against the soft-side of his wrist, before slipping them inside of the robe to press her palm against his stomach. Rich, dark blue sparks travel from her heart down her arms to her palms and into Kurt’s skin. It spreads a strange, tingling warmth throughout his body.

“You are pregnant,” The healer tells them with a smile, withdrawing her hand from Kurt’s abdomen, and Kurt’s hand automatically goes to his stomach while tears well up in his eyes. He’s not sure if he should be happy or terrified- so he settles on a mixture of both.

Blaine’s hand settles over his, warm and comforting, tangling their fingers together. “Everything is going to be okay, darling. I promise. We’ll cut the visit short. After the ceremony we’ll go straight home.”

The healer flashes them both a sympathetic look, and washes her hands in the basin of water set on the table. “There are some important things for you to consider. I would not recommend his highness over-exert himself, or be caused unnecessary stress. It’s best that he relax as much as possible and not… overdress. This far south it is easy to become overheated. That would not be good for you or the baby. Drink plenty of water. As for intimacy-“ at this Kurt finds his cheeks flushing and hides his face in Blaine’s shoulder, while his husband tries very hard not to look embarrassed, “-continuing with that is fine. Although it may become difficult to find a comfortable position when the baby gets bigger.”

“… that won’t hurt it?” Kurt hears Blaine ask, sounding a little bit surprised and, Kurt is pretty sure, a little bit relieved.

“Not at all,” she tells them with a knowing smile. “Simply try not to be… too overzealous.”

Kurt nods, managing to unbury his face from Blaine’s neck. He redresses carefully, fingers trembling a little. Their hosts are waiting for them just outside of the room, Kysh looking like a curious and excited child and Asta appearing… Kurt isn’t completely sure. Maybe fond of her husband.

Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hand reassuringly, and Kurt smiles. “I am pregnant.”

“That’s wonderful!” Kysh exclaims, jumping out of his seat and hugging Kurt gently, before grabbing Blaine in a much fiercer, bear-like embrace.

Asta has abandoned her elaborate, beautiful golden-and-scarlet ensemble for a loose-fitting satin robe not unlike the one Kurt hand been wearing at the healer’s request. Her hands are warm when they take one of his. “Blaine will be a good father,” she tells him, the corners of her mouth turning upwards, “Do not be afraid. This is a good thing. The gods have blessed you both. And worrying is bad for the baby. You both need rest and to relax. Tau’s blessing is not for several days yet- you should use the time to relax and enjoy being away from your normal responsibilities. We shall have lunch tomorrow, you and I, without our men. And I’ll tell you some of what to expect.”

Kurt nods, squeezes her hand back gratefully, and leans into Blaine as they walk back to their chambers.

They will tell Michael and Noah in the morning, and call for the rest of their friends to share the news with over a small breakfast.

As soon as the door to their bedroom closes behind them (Noah and Michael have set up cots in the sitting room, directly in front of the door) Blaine gathers him up into his arms and kisses him. It is a gentle, loving kiss. Kurt presses back tangles his hands in Blaine’s hair and pulls him in tighter. “I love you so much,” Blaine says, against the corner of his mouth, “I love you, and I love this baby, and I don’t want you to worry. Nothing is going to happen to either of you.” His hands are warm and comforting at Kurt’s back.

“I know,” Kurt replies, and let’s his husband guide them towards the bed, sighs in pleasure when his fingers work on the buttons of Kurt’s tunic deftly. “I know. And I love you too.” He shrugs out of the tunic and peels off the tight hose. “Now, let me take off that immodest little thing and come to bed with me, my darling.”

Blaine laugh, and it’s beautiful, a silly, slightly cracked chuckle that makes Kurt smile. The gold belt clatters heavily to the floor and the purple fabric slides and flutters after it. Blaine’s manhood is already partly hard. Kurt laughs too, and pulls their bodies flush together- skin to skin. “You’re eager,” Blaine teases, and presses and open-mouthed kiss against Kurt’s throat.

“You know I missed this- it’s been- weeks,” Kurt explains, and nudges Blaine away, just so that he can pull the charm against pregnancy from around his neck- setting aside on the low table beside the bed. Blaine’s mouth immediately returns to his neck and his chuckle rumbles against his skin, makes Kurt’s abdomen stir.

Blaine cock pressed hotly against the crease of his thigh, while Blaine’s fingers rub against the folds between his legs, spreading the gathering moisture there. Kurt shudders and moans, leaning back against his pillows and letting his back arch upwards into the touch. Blaine’s touches are deft and eager, and when his fingers slide inside of Kurt, they both whine with desperation of it. Because it’s been more than two weeks and they miss each other- they’ve missed each other so much, missed this and the way it makes them feel- both physically and emotionally. Kurt loves spending time with Blaine in any way- wherever, however- but when they’re together in this way it’s like nothing else. It’s like sparks and stars and every lovely thing in the world.  

Blaine presses his fingers inside deeper, crooks them against the spot that makes Kurt’s whole body thrash in pleasure. “Now- now, please, Blaine,” He says, gripping his biceps tightly and tugging him, “Please- I want you now.”

Blaine lifts his face from Kurt’s shoulder, leans up to kiss him, and withdraws his fingers. When the velvety head of his manhood presses in Kurt sighs into his mouth, and his arms wrap around Blaine’s shoulders, holding him close. Blaine presses in further, and their tongues slide together perfectly. When their hips meet flush together Kurt feels like the world is whole again. “Missed this-“ Blaine whispers to him, “Missed you like this, gods, Kurt you’re perfect.” His voice is soft and a little spate.

Kurt kisses his temple and holds him closer, rocks his hips upward. “I missed you too,” he whispers back, nuzzles against the side of Blaine’s face. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Blaine says it like a promise- like a secret, and shifts back, before easing forward again. It’s close, and intimate, and neither of them last very long before they’re shuddering apart and collapsing together onto the sheets.