I hope you are all having a wonderful day. Since it's Klaine's anniversary (and my birthday - I like to brag about sharing the date with Kurt and Blaine :P), I thought it was time for a new story. This is a short one (only two chapters), and I wrote it months ago, when I had a dream about it. It isn't particularly great or original, but it was fun to write, and I hope you guys will enjoy.
Title and songs included in this story all belong to the Cinderella soundtrack and I don't own it, or any of the characters/places in this fic.
Once again, thanks to my beta for her awesome work.
Happy Klaine Anniversary! Enjoy!
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a boy. This boy had big, beautiful hazel eyes that had lost their spark, and a mop of dark curly hair that wasn't soft to the touch anymore. He had once been a spoiled little boy who slept in a big, warm bed with feather pillows and thick blankets, who got kissed goodnight on the forehead when he was tucked into bed by a loving mother, and who got to eat the best food at the most extravagant feasts in the whole kingdom. But that had been a long time ago, and Blaine Anderson hardly remembered those days anymore. There was no time to think of them, not when he was supposed to work from dawn to sunset to please his father.
Lord Anderson had forgotten he had a son the day his wife died from a mysterious, painful illness. The people in the village said the tragedy had turned his heart to stone, but Blaine knew this wasn't true. His father's heart had been made of stone since he could remember, and it had nothing to do with losing his wife, who he had never paid attention to anyway. Blaine missed his loving mother dearly every day, and he still cried bitter tears when he went to his rest at night, remembering how she would tuck him in and sing him a song so he would have nice dreams.
Blaine didn't know what nice dreams were anymore.
Once his mother was gone, Lord Anderson had banished him from the big, beautiful house. He now lived in the stables, where he had a tiny room with a bed made of bales of straw. His most valued posession was now an old fairy tale book his mother had given him, and it was the only thing he'd had time to take from the house before his father kicked him out.
Lord Anderson had never loved his son. Blaine had heard him in the quiet of the night, telling his wife that the boy wasn't normal, that he wasn't a real boy, that he would never bring honor to their family. Lady Anderson had always defended him, but once she died, there was no one else to protect Blaine from his father's hate. The little boy who had been raised like a prince suddenly found himself being treated like a servant.
And the worst part was that there was nothing Blaine could do to change the way things were now.
Stomping his foot and crossing his arms over his chest, Prince Kurt looked at his father with a furious fire flaming in his blue eyes.
"This isn't fair!"
"I know it isn't, Kurt," said King Burt tiredly, smiling sadly at his son. "But it's the law of our kingdom..."
"You're the king!" Kurt interrupted, taking a step closer to the throne. "You can change the law!"
"It's not as simple as you think it is!" Burt sighed. "Listen to me, son. This is the best I can offer you..."
"It's my life," Kurt muttered, suddenly on the verge of tears, his eyes now filled with desperation. "It's my life, dad."
Burt stood up and pulled his one and only son into his arms, feeling heartbroken. "I'm sorry..."
"Why does my entire future have to depend on one stupid ball?" Kurt said against his father's shoulder. "Who says I can find the right person to spend the rest of my days with in one night?"
"It worked for me," Burt said, staring down at him, gently. "It can work for you."
Kurt shook his head. "It won't." He took a deep breath. "Can't it wait a little longer?"
"Your twenty first birthday is in a few weeks. The law says you need to be married by then," Burt answered, walking back to his throne and sitting heavily on it. The exhaustion in his muscles barely allowed him to sit straight. "I already bent the law so you could choose who to marry, Kurt. I can't buy you more time."
"What if the man of my dreams isn't at the ball? What if I can't find my perfect prince?" Kurt sat at the foot of the throne, leaning against his father's legs like he had done a million times as a kid. "I have no wish to have a wife. I can't love a woman."
"Then you have to keep your eyes wide open for that prince of yours, kiddo," King Burt put a hand on his shoulder. "Because I had to fight tooth and nail so you would be allowed to wed another man. But I can't do more."
Kurt knew he was the only boy in the kingdom who dreamed of knights in shining armors instead of damsels in distress. He had no hope of finding happiness and knew he was doomed to a loveless life.
There were only two things in Blaine's life that gave him joy. One was the company of his loyal dog, Bruno, who followed him everywhere as Blaine worked in the backyard or the stables. The other one was singing.
He was very careful to only sing when he was sure his father wasn't in the house. Lord Anderson hated it when his son sang. It was just one of the many things that made him reject Blaine. But it warmed Blaine's heart, and considering the conditions in which he lived, he really needed something to brighten his days.
His knees were aching from the time he spent on the floor, cleaning. The great wide staircase that led to his father's masterbedroom and what used to be his old room and all the other rooms always took him all morning to clean. But he was finally on the last step and he was practically drooling over thoughts of the glass of cold water that he would drink once he could go to the kitchen.
Blaine sang under his breath, even though his throat was dry:
A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep,
In dreams you lose your heartaches,
Whatever you wish for, you keep.
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling thru.
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
The dream that you wish will come true…
He closed his mouth abruptly when he heard steps approaching down the hall. His father had left to hunt very early that morning and he was probably back with his prey. Blaine hated hunting. He loved animals too much to hurt them in any way. That was another quality of his that Lord Anderson despised.
Blaine kept his head down and continued scrubbing as hard as he could, even though his arms were already tired and sore. But... weren't they always? He never stopped working and he barely had any time to rest before a new day began with another endess list of chores.
Blaine felt himself wilt when his father's boots appeared in front of him as the man walked up the stairs, leaving behind him a trail of mud. He stopped scrubbing and swallowed the sigh of resignation threatening to escape his throat. He would have to start all over again.
At that very moment, someone knocked on the big front door. Blaine stood up, taking the opportunity to stretch his sore muscles a little.
He curled into himself when he opened the door trying to be invisible, just as he did everytime he found himself in the presence of someone who was dressed a lot better than him and who didn't smell like the stable and detergent the way he did. He avoided the eyes of the man at the door, and instead looked at the embroidery on the man's tunic, that showed he was a messenger from the palace, sent on a mission by the King. Blaine leaned his head a little, wondering why he would be calling here.
"Yes?" He said quietly.
"I'm here to deliver an invitation to the King's ball at the palace," the man announced. "Is Lord Anderson here?"
"I'm here," Lord Anderson's voice echoed from the stairs, as he made his way back down.
"Good morning, my lord. Please accept this invitation for the King's ball. Both you and your son are invited to..."
"My son's sick," Lord Anderson interrupted abruptly. "He's been sick since my wife died. He hasn't left his bed since then."
Blaine shrunk into himself a bit more at his father's words.
"What's the occasion for this ball?" Lord Anderson asked, studying the invitation the messenger had given him.
"Prince Kurt is about to turn twenty one and he must wed before then," the man explained. "The King has decided to organize a ball so he can meet an ellegible candidate."
"I see..." Lord Anderson nodded. He never missed a chance to be around royalty, hoping to find a way to ingratiate himself. "I'll be there, then."
Once the messenger was gone, Blaine closed the door dejectedly. His heart ached with the need to see a world he had been denied but wished he had the right to see. He wanted to see real princes and princesses at a ball, just like his fairy tale book talked about. He wanted to see that there was still beauty and happiness in the world, even if he couldn't have any...
"This house is filthy, Blaine," Lord Anderson said, looking around in disgust. "Make sure everything is spotless before dinner or there will be none for you."
He nodded obediently, knowing he would never have any happiness.
It was much later that night, when Blaine was lying on his bed in the stable, snuggling against Bruno to get some warmth and doing his best to ignore the growling of his stomach that never really ceased, when a crazy, wonderful idea came to his mind.
What if he went to the Prince's ball? What if, for one night, he pretended he wasn't the poor, dirty, unhappy boy he was? What if, for one night, he allowed himself to be a prince, too?
He laughed bitterly. He would never be mistaken for a prince. He would never be allowed to step one foot into the palace. He didn't have appropriate clothes or a carriage, or even a horse. And, of course, his father would never in his lifetime give him permission to go...
"I just want my life to feel like a fairy tale for one night," Blaine whispered quietly. "Is that too much to ask, Bruno?"
The dog's only answer was to snore loudly in his ear.
Blaine's hands were shaking as he carried the tray with breakfast to his father's study. He had been extra careful with it today, making sure it was perfect, just the way Lord Anderson liked it.
"Come in," his father called from inside when Blaine knocked the door.
Blaine carefully put the tray on the mahogany desk and stood up straight as his father prepared to try his food. When he nodded, to show it was okay and he could go, Blaine took a deep breath.
"I was wondering if I could ask you a question, my Lord," Blaine murmured, willing his voice not to tremble.
Lord Anderson quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I was... I was wondering..." Blaine bit his tongue, hating himself for not being strong enough. "Would you let me go to the Prince's ball?"
Lord Anderson put his tea down and leaned back on his seat. "You want to go the ball at the palace?"
"You think you can be around people who are a lot more important than you and they won't notice the difference?" Lord Anderson was amused, the same way he always was when he found a new reason to humilliate his son. "You think they'll look at you and they won't know you're nothing but a servant?"
Blaine swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden knot forming in his throat.
"And what would you wear, uhm, if you went?" Lord Anderson asked mockingly.
Blaine thought of the dress that had belonged to his mother and that he kept like a treasure in a trunk in the attic. He could use the fabric, sew something new; a pair of pants and a jacket would be enough...
"I can figure something out," Blaine answered.
"I'm sure you can," Lord Anderson smirked. "And what would you do there? Did you hear about the prince's disgusting ways and you thought it would be a perfect opportunity for you to get in on the fun?"
Blaine frowned in confusion. He had no idea what his father was talking about.
Lord Anderson took a sip of his tea and, finally, nodded thoughfully. "Fine. Let's make a deal. I'll give you a list of things you need to have done by tomorrow. If you get them done and you find something appropriate to wear before it's time to leave for the ball, you can go."
Blaine's hazel eyes went wide in excitement. "Really? Do you mean it?"
"Oh, Blaine, you should know by now that I'm a man of my word," he replied with a crooked smile.
Blaine didn't remember being as happy as he was now in years.
Blaine should've known better.
The list of tasks his father handed him later that night was long enough to keep him busy for a whole week. He didn't have time to do everything and rework his mother's dress into something suitable for him.
The ball had been a nice dream, but that was all it had been.
It wasn't that he liked to give his father the satisfaction of letting him see how broken hearted he was, but Blaine couldn't hold back the tears as he sat on the kitchen floor, picking peas from the chimney's ashes. His father had meanly emptied a whole pot of them and told him he needed to pick up every last one of them if he wanted to go to the ball. Blaine could still see dozens and dozens of them through his blurry vision, as he heard the chime of the clock in the sitting room. It was time for the carriage to leave.
He hadn't even had time to make a single cut to his mother's dress. He hadn't slept at all the previous night, hoping he would have enough time to get his tasks done.
He had been a fool.
"Well, Blaine," Lord Anderson said, walking into the kitchen in his best suit. "Are you ready to go to the... Oh, boy. You're not even dressed."
"I'm not going," Blaine said in a hoarse voice.
"You didn't finish in time, I see," Lord Anderson clucked his tongue in disappointment. "Oh well, that's no one's fault but yours. Don't say I didn't give you the chance."
Blaine did his best not to sniffle. He hated to give his father the satisfaction.
"This kitchen had better be immaculate in the morning," his father said carelessly as he walked away. "The carriage is waiting and I can't be late for the ball! I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine."
And just like that, he was gone, taking Blaine's broken dreams with him.
Once he was sure he was alone, Blaine walked hurriedly out of the house, practically running to the stables as he tried not to sob. There was no point in crying. Crying had never solved anything.
When he was in his room, he reached under his pillow and grabbed the little fairy tale book he had always relied on during the hardest times. Well, maybe it was time to stop believing in things that would never happen…
Blaine opened it at a random page and, with a heart-wrenching pain that seemed to be ripping his chest apart, he grabbed the edges, intending to tear it apart.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you…"
Blaine jumped back in surprise at the sound of an unknown voice, hitting his back against the wooden walls and barely saving himself from tripping over a bucket of water.
Leaning against the doorway was a man. But there wasn't anything ordinary about that man. He was tall and handsome, but in such a supernatural way that he almost seemed to be glowing. Blaine's eyes grew wide and he wondered if he had maybe hit his head at some point without realizing it, if this was an hallucination…
"Who are you?" Blaine exclaimed. "What do you want?"
"My name is Cooper. I'm your fairy godfather," the man answered.
Blaine suddenly felt rage bursting out of him. "Are you making fun of me? Who told you to say that? Did Lord Anderson send you?"
"You mean your father?" Cooper asked, arching an eyebrow, and Blaine gasped in surprise. No one knew he was the Anderson boy. No one remembered how little Blaine looked, and no one could ever dream that the healthy, happy kid that had run around the village when Lady Anderson was alive would be the same person as be the poor, starved, dirty boy from the stables. "No one sent me. I'm here because you need me."
"I don't… I don't need anyone," Blaine said, dropping down on his bed, looking away from the stranger. "Please, go away…"
"I can't go away. You have a wish that needs to come true, and I won't leave until I help you," Cooper approached him, but stopped next to the piece of mirror Blaine had hung on his wall a long time ago, as if needed a reminder of how he looked. Blaine didn't like looking at himself lately. There wasn't anything worth seeing. Cooper, in the other hand, fixed his hair and flashed a smile at himself, checking that his teeth were perfectly white, before turning his attention back to Blaine. "This is what we're going to do…"
"I have a lot to do today," Blaine said, standing up again. "I need to finish in the kitchen before Lord Anderson comes back."
"Kiddo, I can't work my magic if you don't…"
"I don't believe in magic!" Blaine blurted out, feeling his eyes filling with tears again.
"Ouch. Well, that hurts," Cooper crossed his arms over his chest. "Who do you think I am, then?"
"I don't know," Blaine shrugged, as he started walking back to the house. Cooper followed. "Some drunk from the village who decided to pick on the stupid kid who…"
Blaine's words suddenly died out when Cooper took something out of an inside pocket. It looked like a tree branch, but there was something shiny at the tip. Bruno was running towards them, and Blaine saw Cooper point at him with his wand…
Blaine didn't even blink, but he still couldn't explain how it was possible that, in the same place where his dog had been, there was now a big, white, beautiful horse.
"Bruno!" He exclaimed, rushing towards him. "Bruno!"
"He's okay," Cooper said from behind him. "He looks better now. And a lot more useful if you are going to get to that ball you want to go to…"
Blaine's eyes were so big they were about to pop out of his head. "How did you do that?"
"Told you, kid. Magic. Fairy godfather, and all of that. Should we start again? Hi! My name is Cooper. I'm your…" Cooper extended a hand and smiled charmingly, but Blaine warily took a step back.
"You can really do this…" He whispered, a little breathless.
Cooper rolled his eyes. "You're a little bit slow on the pickup, aren't you?"
"These things don't happen to me," Blaine admitted, still a bit dazed. "So excuse me for being a skeptic."
Cooper nodded. "So… do you want my help or should I try my luck with the next miserable stable boy I stumble upon?"
"What exactly can you do for me?" Blaine asked, taking a hesitant step forward.
"You've wished for a night where you could have a different life," Cooper said, ticking off the points on one hand. "You wanted to go to the Prince's ball. And you wanted something nice to wear. I can help you with all that."
"But…" Blaine looked down at himself, sighing in defeat. "I have no clothes to wear. I didn't have time to…"
"Oh, kid, you really are too slow," Cooper chuckled. He waved the wand in front of Blaine's face and a few sparks flew from it. "Hello! Can you see this thing? I'll make you look like a prince in a matter of seconds."
Blaine took a deep breath. This was really happening. And even if it wasn't real, and it was just a dream, it was the weirdest, most amazing, wonderful dream he'd ever had.
"So, what is it going to be? Are you going to go finish cleaning that kitchen, or are you going to go enjoy the best night of your life?" Cooper asked with a knowing smile.
Blaine eagerly took another step towards him. "I want to go to the ball."
"Wonderful! Wise decision, my friend." Cooper looked at him with a critical eye. "Well, you don't have my strong profile, but I guess I'll have to work with what you have…"
"What's wrong with me?" Blaine looked at himself again, worried.
"Oh, nothing, nothing. If you don't compare yourself to me, that is…" Cooper waved his wand around and Blaine felt a warm sensation running all over him, just as good as those times when his mother would let him take a bath in her big bathtub. Blaine looked down at his hands and realized the dirt from a day's work had disappeared. "Good. All clean. Now, let's work on the clothes…"
Cooper walked around him, murmuring to himself about colors and fabrics and possible jewels. Finally, when he seemed to decide what to do, his face lit up and he clapped his hands.
"Oh, I know!"
He touched the top of Blaine's head with his wand and in the time it took Blaine to inhale deeply was all the time it took for his body to suddenly be covered with brand new, beautiful clothes. He was wearing an outfit in different shades of blue that fit him perfectly. Blaine had never paid any attention to the way his arms and back had developed muscles after all the hard work he had done around the house, but he was happy to notice it now. His chest seemed broader than he remembered it, and he even felt a little taller, though it was possibly because he wasn't curved under the weight of a load of wood for the fire.
"Not bad, not bad," Cooper muttered, studying him closely. "Id' say you're almost as handsome as me, but not quite."
The breeches were a little uncomfortable, the way they clung so closely to his legs, but Blaine didn't care. He had never felt like this in his life, not even when he was little and his mother would give him new clothes to wear for dinner or for church. This was different.
He didn't feel invisible anymore.
"You know, I like that color…" Cooper said, scratching his chin, deep in thought. "I think I'm going to make something for myself in the same color…"
"When can I go to the ball? I don't want it to be over before I get there!" Blaine exclaimed, unable to contain his enthusiasm.
"Oh yeah, yeah, the ball…" Cooper made a gesture towards Bruno, who seemed a little nervous in his new body. "Maybe with some silver trim. Silver makes my eyes pop…"
Blaine hurried to climb onto the saddle. "Goodbye, Cooper! Thank you so much!"
And just like that, he was on his way to the King's Ball.
Cooper blinked and looked around, finding himself suddenly alone. "Oh," he bit his lip. "I forgot to mention the midnight rule…" He frowned, unsure. "Oh well, I imagine everyone knows the midnight rule, anyway. It's in every single fairy tale book…"
With a popping sound, Cooper vanished, leaving a trail of fading sparks behind him.
Kurt's blue eyes wandered around the ballroom for the millionth time that night, unable to see a single person he wanted to speak to, much less spend the rest of his life with. Girls awaited eagerly for him to ask them to dance and boys avoided his gaze as if they were afraid Kurt would approach them if he caught them looking at him. He sighed sadly. This ball had been a terrible idea.
Saying Kurt was terrified didn't even begin to describe how he felt. The kingdom's law said he had to marry by his twenty first birthday, and his father had managed to at least get the kingdom's Dukes to allow Kurt the option of finding someone he could fall in love with. Kurt had told his father that he prefered the company of boys instead of girls a long time ago, and knowing his father didn't only accept him for who he was, but also bent the laws as much as he could so Kurt could try to find a husband instead of a wife, made him incredibly grateful.
The problem was, there was no one like him here. The boys avoided him like the plague and the girls followed him around like quaking ducklings after their mother, hoping to get at least a second of his attention. But they didn't like him, either. They just wanted to be princesses, queens, to live the life they had dreamed of since they were little girls.
They had no idea what it was really like.
He walked to the throne where his father was sitting, watching the guests dance without being able to hide how bored he was. Balls had never been his favorite part about being a king. Kurt used to like them; he'd enjoyed watching the pretty dresses flying around the ballroom as the couples moved with the music. But not tonight. Tonight, his desperation drained the color out of the dresses and decorations, until everything faded to a boring beige.
He dropped on the seat next to his father's with a lot less grace than usual. Burt watched him with an arched eyebrow.
Kurt sighed. "I give up."
"Everyone thinks I'm weird," Kurt said in a low voice. "The men won't look at me and the girls don't want me, but the life I have to offer. We need to face the truth, dad. I won't find a single person here who will be perfect for me..."
"Kurt, you can't give up. You know what will happen if you don't find someone yourself. I don't want you to be forced to marry someone chosen for you by the Dukes..." Burt put a comforting hand on his son's knee.
"I don't care," Kurt closed his eyes in defeat. "I don't care anymore, dad."
In that very moment, the doors to the ballroom opened and a new guest arrived. It was a boy, dressed in a beautiful blue suit, with soft, curly hair. He seemed fidgety, nervous almost, but something in him was vibrating with supressed excitement, as his hazel eyes tried to take in the whole room in front of him.
Kurt lifted his head then, as he considered sneaking out of the ballroom and hiding in his room, and his gaze met the gorgeous stranger who stood apart from the dancing, chatting crowd. Kurt was suddenly breathless, staring in amazement at this boy he had never seen in his life before.
The king was saying something, but Kurt didn't hear a word. He stood up and walked, not noticing how the crowd seemed to part to let him pass, creating a path that led him right to him. When the boy realized someone was coming towards him, he shrunk back a little into himself.
But his cheeks were stained with a blush and he didn't look disgusted by Kurt, so Kurt took a deep breath and stood before him.
Their eyes met and they both forgot the world around them.
"Would you like to dance?" Kurt asked tentatively.
The stranger bit his lip and nodded yes shyly. Kurt grabbed his hand, shaking at the sudden rush of warmth that travelled up his arm.
The boy looked down at their hands as if he had never seen something as incredible as that. Kurt smiled at him, because just looking at this boy seemed to affect his lips until the unexpected happiness spreading through him found a way out to the world.
They danced without saying another word. With every new song that the band played, Kurt dared to pull the stranger a little closer, until there was no space at all left between them. The boy was stiff and nervous for a while, but then he relaxed and dropped his head onto Kurt's shoulder, sighing in obvious contentment. Kurt smiled wider and closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to the boy's temple.
The crowd around them was watching and murmuring, but their nattering words didn't matter. King Burt sat at his throne, looking at his little boy proudly and knowing Kurt had just found who he had been looking for, even if he didn't know it yet.
Another song ended and a new one started. They were barely moving now, too focused on holding each other to dance properly. Kurt lifted his head and ran his hand through the boy's velvety curls on his neck.
"How come I've never seen you at one of these dances before?" He asked softly.
The boy looked up, too, giving him a sweet smile, still with a dash of shyness. "I don't really go out much."
"Well, I'm glad you came here tonight," Kurt said. "These balls are usually quite boring, but you've just made the whole night worthwhile..."
"Do you come to many balls here at the King's palace?" The boy seemed completely amazed by the idea that he was actually here at one himself.
Kurt's eyes were shining with amusement. "I kind of have to be here, you know, since I'm the prince and all that..."
The boy's eyes went so huge that Kurt could see every speck of gold and green color in them. He took a step back, out of Kurt's arms. "You... you are the prince?"
He stared at the prince's clothes, as if they held answers. He was wearing the most beautiful outfit in the room, white and silver, paler than his own smooth skin. In his chestnut hair rested a thin, silver circlet set with sapphires that matched his eyes.
The boy seemed so incredibly shocked that Kurt chuckled. "You didn't know who I was? Are you from another kingdom?"
"I'm so sorry, Your Highness," he stuttered nervously. "I didn't know! I didn't know you..."
"There's nothing to worry about," Kurt cupped his cheek and leaned closer, speaking in a soothing voice. "You haven't done anything wrong."
"I danced with you!"
"I asked you to," Kurt wrapped an arm around him and tugged him towards him again. "And I'd like to do it again, if you please..."
"I... of course, Your Highness..." The boy stiffened again and let Kurt hold him.
Kurt's face fell. "You don't have to if you don't want to just because I'm the prince. It's not an order."
There was something really earnest in those big, hazel eyes. "I really like dancing with you, Your Highness..."
"Kurt," Kurt corrected firmly but gently, with a shy smile.
The boy smiled a little and the blush returned to his cheeks. "K-Kurt. I like dancing with you. I don't get the chance to dance very often..."
"Then we'll dance together all night," Kurt answered, squeezing his hand. "What's your name?"
"Uhm," the boy hesitated. "I'm Blaine."
"Blaine," Kurt repeated and the name tasted like nectar in his lips. He rested his forehead against Blaine's temple and hugged him a little tighter. "I'm so glad you decided to come to the ball tonight."
Blaine exhaled slowly, as if he was gathering strength. "I'm very glad I did, too."
Blaine couldn't understand why it was so easy. He couldn't understand how he was dancing this way with another man in plain sight of the whole world without caring about who saw and who didn't. Being in Kurt's arms - the prince's arms - felt so right, so wonderful...
And it was his only chance to feel like this. Once the morning came, he would go back to being the same Blaine he had always been and the bubble of happiness would pop forever.
Although maybe he wouldn't need to wait until the morning for everything to end...
The clock in the tallest tower of the castle started chiming as midnight struck.
Blaine felt a shiver running down his spine that spread all through him, to the tip of his curls, and the ends of his fingers and his toes. He blinked and pulled his face away from where he had nestled into the crook of Kurt's neck. He felt really odd...
"Blaine?" Kurt asked, worried at the tremors running through Blaine.
They stopped dancing. Blaine took a step back, out of Kurt's arms and frowned in confusion. And then he realized that what he was feeling was exactly the opposite of what he had felt when Cooper had touched him with the wand...
It was midnight.
The spell was broken.
He panicked. He needed to get out of there right this minute, but he hesitated because he knew once he left the palace, he would never see Kurt again...
"Are you feeling quite alright?" Kurt asked, cupping his face in his hands.
But then the strangest thing happened. There was a swirl of sparkly dust and Blaine felt as if he was lifted from the floor a few inches. That same cool sensation ran over him, and then it suddenly was gone in a matter of seconds. He had closed his eyes, dizzy with everything that was happening, and when he opened them, he was kneeling on the floor.
Breathing heavily, he looked up. His ears were filled with the appalled gasps and murmurs of the crowd, but all he could see was Kurt's face. His eyes had gone wide and his lips were parted in silent shock.
Blaine's beautiful clothes had disappeared and he was wearing his old ones, as stained and worn as always. His shoes were broken and his toes were peaking out of them.
He had never been so embarrassed and humilliated in his whole life.
The whispers had grown louder. Some people were even laughing now. Blaine could feel the burn of tears in his eyes. He forced himself to stand up. He needed to get out of here...
"Blaine?" Kurt's voice was merely a murmur and it was so easy for Blaine to pretend he hadn't heard him. It was painful, but so, so easy...
He turned and started running, darting through the crowd, as they laughed and pointed. He could hear the creak of his shoes as he rushed across the ballroom, just as plainly as he could feel everyone's eyes on him...
The night breeze hit Blaine when he was finally outside. Bruno was barking where he had left him tied to a tree. Blaine's tears were falling and a sob was breaking through his lips, but it didn't matter because no one was there to hear it. All the other guests were still inside the palace, laughing at him. This would be a ball they would never forget; the ball where a poor, dirty boy managed to blend with the finest people in the kingdom.
It would always be a joke for them. That's all he'd ever been anyway.
Days later, he wouldn't be able to remember how he managed to walk all those miles back to the house, with Bruno trotting next to him, nuzzling his hand with his nose every now and then, as if he knew the boy needed comfort. He only knew he crawled into his cold bed and cried as he fell asleep, exhausted.
The last sound on his lips as he closed his eyes in misery, was the prince's name.
I hope you guys liked it. Please review and let me know what you thought of it!
Next part will be up some time next week :)
Thanks for reading!