Good merciful God, I know I've been promising this "thing I've been working on" forever. Well. Here it finally is... Stardust!Klaine.
Um. I guess the only further comment I have is that this chapter involves a certain "suspension of disbelief" (give me a fucking break, okay, it's a fantasy cross-over fic, what do you want from me). I understand that Blaine is not nearly Asian enough to be Mike and Tina's son, and also that the thought of him as their son, period, is kind of fucking weird.
But it all makes sense in the end.
So, without further ado-Stardust!Klaine. And if you haven't seen the movie, go see it. It's always been one of my favourites and as further incentive, it's one of Chris' favourites too.
A philosopher once asked, "are we human because we gaze at the stars? Or do we gaze at them because we are human?"
Pointless, really. Do the stars gaze back- now that's a question.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Our story really begins one hundred and fifty years ago at the Royal Academy of science in London, England, where a letter arrived containing a very strange enquiry. It had come from a country girl, and the scientist who read it thought it might be a practical joke of some kind. But he duly wrote a reply, explaining that the query was nonsense, and posted it to the girl, who lived in a village called "Wall". So named, the girl had said, for the wall that ran alongside it. A wall that, according to local folklore, hid an extraordinary secret.
The sky was clear and dark. The weather was mild. Tina had searched for at least two miles on either side of the opening in the wall, and had come to the resigned conclusion that this really was absolutely the only opening in the wall.
"I'm in charge with guarding the portal to another world and you want me to just let you through?" the gatekeeper slurred, swaying a little dangerously.
Tina reached out a hand to steady her. "Yes," she said, withdrawing once it appeared that the guard no longer required Tina's help. "Because, let's be honest—it's a field." She put her arm around the guard, turning her to gesture out at the empty field on the other side of the wall. "Look. Do you see another world out there? No. You see a field. Do you see anything... non-human? No. And you know why? Because it's a field!" she threw her hands up a little impatiently.
"Thirty years," the guard hiccuped. "Thirty years I've guarded this wall twenty-four hours a day, just me and my gin and a song in my heart. One more word and I'll have to report you. Rules are rules. Sorry, love."
Tina's lips twisted together. "Well, that sounds pretty final then. I- I guess I'll go home."
"Night, Tina," the guard said sleepily, beginning to pace away from the gap in the wall once more. "Give my best to your parents."
Tina turned her back and began to walk slowly up the grassy incline, glancing over her shoulder at the wall. As soon as the guard was far enough away from the opening, she turned and bolted through the gap in the wall.
She could hear the gatekeeper hollering after her, but she refused to stop or look back.
It wasn't even a portal or a door, really. It was just a crumbled collapse in an old stone wall that this drunken, washed-up woman guarded twenty-four hours a day.
There was a village not far from the wall. Tina could hear laughter and music and the clink of glasses being put together in toast—clearly a far more lively town than her own. But not another world.
The village she found herself in was of another world.
It was strange—wonderful. The stalls were colorful, filled with oranges and reds and yellows and blues and greens. A canary the size of an owl in an iron bird cage. A jar of eyeballs that all turned to look at her as she stooped closer to examine them. A sheaf of parchment, fluttering unassisted in the air, whirling around like a mini paper tornado. A group of what looked like boys in red and blue suits that sounded like musical instruments when they sang.
A young man around her age sitting on the steps to a strange-looking yellow caravan, a slim silver chain wound around his ankle, attached to a hook on the door.
He smiled when Tina met his eyes.
"Unless you have enough money in your purse for him—and judging by the state of your hair, I'd say you don't—I'd suggest you keep moving, sister," said a rather frightening voice.
A scary-looking woman she'd missed the first time she'd looked was standing off to the boy's left, scowling, her fists on her hips. "I don't deal with time-wasters. Or half-breeds, and I think you're both. Was one of your parents some sort of primate? How do you explain your hair?"
"No-" Tina stammered, feeling her cheeks flush. She looked down at the table quickly. "I was—uh—looking at the flowers."
They were pretty, preserved in glass that would keep them fresh for eternity.
The woman snorted, tossing her head. "Take care of her. And I don't mean in that way, you perverted little Asian." She strode away towards the pub, shoving people out of the way as she went.
The boy stepped up to the table with the fluidity of a dancer, causing Tina to blush again and look at her feet. "See something you like?"
"Definitely," Tina answered without thinking, and flushed even more darkly when his smile grew.
"W-what I mean is," she stammered, "that- that one's nice." She pointed to a bluebell. "How much is it?"
"It might be the color of your hair," he said, somewhat coyly. "Or it might be all of your memories before you were three. I can check if you want."
She stared at him, dumbfounded.
"Anyway, you don't want that one," he said, picking up a small glass flower. "Take this one. Snowdrop. It'll bring you luck."
"Well, how much is that one?" she asked hesitantly. She didn't have much money.
"This one? Costs a kiss," he said, tapping his cheek.
She could feel the corners of her lips turn up as she leaned to press them against his cheek; at the last moment, he turned his head, and their lips met.
The kiss was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Duncan had never kissed her that way- he always acted as if she was too fragile, as if he was afraid she'd break.
He looked dazed for a moment when they pulled apart, and then his forehead crinkled in an expression of worry. "Ditchwater Sue would kill me for that."
"Should we go somewhere more private, then?" she asked, scarcely believing what she was saying. But she wanted more, more of his kisses, more touches, more everything. Everything she'd never get from Duncan.
He stared at her for a moment in stunned silence, then a smile slowly spread itself across his face. "I'm a prince, tricked into being a witch's slave," he whispered, and both of their eyes fell to the silver chain around his ankle. "Will you liberate me?"
She pulled from the waist of her dress a shiv, and quickly sliced through the chain. She watched in disbelief as it regrew, leaving her with a small length of silver coiled around her hand.
"I'll only be free when she dies," he said, and his eyes were sad. "I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter," she whispered, and their eyes locked. "It doesn't."
He reached out a hand, she took it, and he led her into his caravan.
He gave her a candle before she left. She didn't know what it was or what it did, but it must have done something, because he paired with it the words: "come visit me. Soon." and the instructions to "light this and think of me, and only me."
She wouldn't. She was so full of shame she couldn't even look him in the eyes properly.
She returned to her home in Wall that night, hoping that her little adventure to the Kingdom of Stormhold would soon be forgotten.
Several weeks later, when she woke suddenly and rushed to her chamber pot, the contents of her stomach making a sudden reappearance as she vomited everything she'd had for the previous night's supper, it became obvious that it wouldn't be forgotten any time soon.
Tina and Duncan were married quickly after, to save both families from disgrace. 9 months later, a beautiful baby boy was born.
Eighteen years passed, and the baby—Blaine—grew up, knowing nothing of his unconventional heritage. But never mind how the infant became a boy. This is the story of how Blaine Anderson becomes a man- a much greater challenge altogether. For to achieve it, he must win the heart of his one true love.