Iron Heart
Title: Iron Heart [1/?]
Author: illocutionary
Pairing(s): Dave/Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,008 [this round]
Summary: AU! Fairytale ; In an accident, Prince Kurt breaks his mother's favorite necklace, and goes to David, the resident blacksmith about fixing it. Neither are particularly happy with the arrangement.
Iron Heart
Once upon a time, there was kind, mild-mannered King who ruled over his kind, mild-mannered subjects. Though the Queen had passed away years ago, the King was thankful that their son, the Prince was there by his side. Though occasionally snide and dismissive, the Prince was also strong-willed, courteous, and intelligent-which is why the King grew antsy and restless as the Prince grew older and older-wasn’t he supposed to court or be courted by now? And yet with all the balls and visits from foreign dignitaries, his son showed not the slightest interest in any of the ladies and few of the gentlemen throwing themselves at his feet. The King briefly entertained the idea of sending the Prince on a Quest, but frowned-Quests really weren’t in style nowadays, and he was sure the Prince would balk at the idea having to stay outside for more than a day without at least five servants accompanying him. And so the King did the only thing that made sense to him-try to be as subtle as possible about his wishes for the Prince to find someone to live Happily Ever After with.
Unfortunately, as well-intentioned and harmless as the King’s suggestions were, the Prince could not see the reason why his father had to press the issue so insistently. Distressed and aggravated, the Prince promised that by the stroke of midnight on his twenty-first birthday, he will have named his betrothed. Satisfied, the King agreed, and began handing out invitations to all the neighboring kingdoms, with many of the royalty vying to win the Prince’s hand.
Which is where we find the Prince, fumbling over his vanity desk in his bedchambers, organizing and reorganizing it in an attempt to calm down. Despite completely rearranging his facial powders alphabetically instead of by shade, he’s still not finished. He pulls out one of the many drawers in the desk, and rooted around for his jewelry box, passed on to him by his mother. His anxiety fizzled out, and he smiled, opening the lid and quietly taking out the fragile pieces. A pair of emerald earrings, golden bracelets, silver rings, and her favorite necklace-
He blinks. Noticing that the necklace has a certain smudge on it, he rubs it, trying to get it off.
Click.
He blinks, pulling the necklace so the two parts came apart. Some of the chains tumbled off and dropped at his feet.
He screams.
--
This should be it. Kurt looks around, and back at Finnegan, who merely shrugs. Kurt grits his teeth slightly. Finnegan is harmless and friendly, but Kurt would bet the whole kingdom that there weren’t enough brains in the guard’s head to fill a thimble. Still, it looks right-a cozy cottage with smoke rising out of the chimney, with a row of tulips decorating the pathway leading up to the house. On the side, there’s a small workshop with a few hammers and anvils clustered around the doorway.
“Stay, Finn.”
Finn nods with a big goofy smile, and Kurt heads over to the workshop, careful not to disturb anything. He pokes his head in the shack, eyes flickering over the swords, emblems, and half-finished weapons lay scattered around. He wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell of ore and the fact that no one was in, deciding to try the house, but he hears shouting coming from the back, and detours around the small workshop to see a small stream, and three men ankle deep in it, throwing rocks at each other. And laughing.
Kurt rolls eyes, crossing his arms. Two of the men he recognized-Anderson the knight and Adams the court mathematician who both were wearing simple garbs, their official uniforms both laying a few feet away, nicely laid out in the sun. They were ganging up on the third man, who despite the disadvantage, seemed pretty well-matched to take the two on. The man was built like a troll, with tree trunks for legs, a wide, broad chest, and sinewy, bulky arms. Despite his face being darkened with soot, it was brightened with a radiant smile that almost made Kurt’s eyes hurt looking at it, as he flung rocks at the other two, who’re dodging as best as they could while foraging for stones to hurl back. One managed to nick Anderson in the head, but besides a short cry, the knight laughed, absentmindedly swiping a hand over the blood trickling down his face.
Imbeciles.
“And what is going on here?” Kurt asks abruptly, stepping closer and trying to keep the tone of his voice stern as possible. All three turn their heads, and immediately, Adams and Anderson steps out of the stream and kneels before Kurt.
“Your highness.”
“My lord.”
The last man looks on, before meeting eyes with Kurt and executing a hasty bow.
Adams raises his head, “A defensive drill, your highn-“
“We were just having a good rock fight,” Blaine butts in, seemingly unaware of the other two’s glares.
Kurt doesn’t even bother to try to understand. “Whatever, I just need to know where the goldsmith is.”
The man at the back raises a hand. “That’s me.”
Kurt scoffs. He can’t really help it-it’s been awhile since he’s heard something so ridiculous. Those huge, dirty, grubby paws attempting something so delicate as working with gold? Hysterical.
“I’m being serious.”
The man squints, “And so am I-I am David Karofsky, son of Paul Karofsky, the original black and goldsmith in this village.”
“In that case, please go get your father.”
“That would be a little difficult, your highness,” David seethes, spitting out the title, “he passed away last year.”
Kurt flinches, and looks away, not liking the glower that's aiming right at him. “Anderson, you don’t suppose you know a more capable goldsmith in the vicinity?"
The Knight shakes his head, "You're not going to find better craftsmanship in the entire kingdom, your highness. I don't think even Alvea or the Stramdraff Territories have anyone that can compare with Davey here," he claps a hand on the large man's shoulder, before getting shrugged off roughly.
Kurt squints, but sighs, relenting as he passes over the small satchel that held his mother's necklace, trying to keep his hand from trembling.
"I better get this back, and it better be in one piece. I will be back tomorrow," he snaps, before sharply wheeling around and walking back towards the carriage. Finn, who had been taking a quick nap, snaps into action as soon as he hears the sharp clacking of Kurt's boots, and hurries forward to open the door for the Prince, and scuttling to the front to get the horses moving. He waves a cheery goodbye and heads off in the direction of the castle.
A beat.
"What the hell was that, Anderson?!" Adams demanded, incredulity written all over his face.
Blaine looked at the both of them, utterly confused. "What?"
"We were trying to save our reputations from being totally maimed, and you ruined it!"
"Rock fighting is nothing to be ashamed of, gentlemen, it was all in good sport and--"
"Good sport my ass, you two ambushed me while I was trying to wash up. Also," Dave points at Blaine's head, "you're still bleeding there, Good Knight."
Blaine answers by chucking a rock at David's face.
--
Kurt can't calm down.
He's pacing his room, and if he was any less nervous, he'd be mourning over the state of his poor carpet-- but as of now, he can only imagine horrible, terrible things happening to that necklace, his mother's heart and soul.
What if that brute destroyed it? Melted it down and sold it off to some scum in the black market? Pawned it off and ran out of town? Kurt claps a hand over his mouth. Oh god, what has he done? How could he-- what was he thinking?
No time to dwell on it. He throws on a wool coat from the closet and slips out of his slippers and into his boots. His only concern was how to get pass the guards this late at night.
--
And apparently, the Goddess hates him.
The Prince seethes, shutting his bedchamber door once more. Out of all the royal guards on duty-- tonight had to have Noah and Michael? Kurt's pretty sure Noah's got a nose of a dog, and Michael's ability to spot even the faintest movements have made him a popular hunting partner when autumn begins. And even if Kurt is wearing his quietest boots, he's unsure if it would be enough to keep him from being undetected. He walks briskly over to the window, throwing it open, and letting the bitingly cold night wind cut across his face. He looks out.
Well, it's not too bad...just a hop, skip, then he can grab onto that ledge, which should be able to swing over to that tower...
He grips the rope he stashed in his closet, and scrambles out onto the balcony.
--
After an hour later, he's stuck.
He underestimated the distance from the library window and the kitchen's roof, which has him suspended between the two, at least thirty feet up from the ground. He pulls himself half-heartedly up, feeling his arms tremble.
Curse that blasted blacksmith! He contemplates for the thousandth time that night if simply dropping down to the ground will kill him or only break every bone in his body, while mulling over the pros and cons of each.
"How's it hanging, your highness?"
Kurt hisses, and squirms to twist the rope around the 180 degrees to confront the person who dared to make light of this predicament-- he should've known.
"Karofksy! Who in blazes told you that you could enter royal grounds?!"
David shrugged, "I finished fixing your necklace, and I figured I could get Adams to join me at the pub while I dropped this off." He pulled out the satchel that Kurt had given him, shaking it slightly. Kurt widens his eyes slightly, before realizing-- oh right-- he's still fucking stuck clinging onto a rope.
"Anyways," David goes on conversationally, as if he wasn't talking to someone dangling several feet above his head, "I'll leave this here..." he bends down, placing the bag on the cobbled floor of the courtyard, "have a good night, your highness."
Kurt pursues his lips, trying to ignore how sore his hands are and how calloused they're getting. He wasn't going to bend, he wasn't going to break just for the amusement of this overgrown ape...
"Fine! I hope someone slits your throat and--" Kurt stops, feeling himself sinking down, and looks up at the unraveling string.
There wasn't even time to scream.
--
He really wasn't going to leave him there.
Really, he wasn't. He wasn't sure why, but he supposed the Prince had a reason he was sneaking out of his own castle so late at night, and even if he didn't, well--
Intent on finding Azimio so they could figure out how to get the insufferable Prince down, he was almost about to head over to the stables when he heard the -snap-.
Sucking in a breath, he tore back to the middle of the courtyard, stepping on flowers and vaulting over bushes. Goddess, please, please, please let him make it-- at the last few feet, he lunges and dives down, arms outstretched.
And caught the Prince, though not how he planned. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit! David groans, shoving his face into the ground. Kurt whimpers above him, laying sprawled, facing up, his entire back protesting against the impact. He slowly gets up, swinging his feet around and using his hands to push himself up, before grabbing on something round and fuzzy. He looks down.
Oh.
Kurt quickly gets off of David's back and his hand off of the back of the man's head, brushing his trousers and fidgeting in an attempt to look busy.
David stands up a few moments, wobbling slightly and trying to shake off the bright spots forming in his eyes, and Kurt looks on horrified, before bristling and barks at him, “Are you serious?! What did you do that for?”
“Maybe saving the entire kingdom from the grief of having a Royal Pancake rather than a Prince!”
“Oh, so I’m something to be coddled after?” He’s vibrating from anger, staring David down, “That I can’t do anything by myself?!
“Apparently so, if you do stupid stunts like this!”
Kurt points his finger at Dave, his ire raised tenfold “I don’t need your help! I’m fine on my own! I don’t need anyone! Why can’t anyone just see that?!”
Silence. He’s said too much. Kurt can see that sliver of pity radiating from David, and he ducks his head, looking down and finding the satchel. He scoops up the bag and hurries off, trying to keep his nose in the air. He barrels past guards and ignores their questions and remarks.
--
Part Two
Author: illocutionary
Pairing(s): Dave/Kurt
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,008 [this round]
Summary: AU! Fairytale ; In an accident, Prince Kurt breaks his mother's favorite necklace, and goes to David, the resident blacksmith about fixing it. Neither are particularly happy with the arrangement.
Iron Heart
Once upon a time, there was kind, mild-mannered King who ruled over his kind, mild-mannered subjects. Though the Queen had passed away years ago, the King was thankful that their son, the Prince was there by his side. Though occasionally snide and dismissive, the Prince was also strong-willed, courteous, and intelligent-which is why the King grew antsy and restless as the Prince grew older and older-wasn’t he supposed to court or be courted by now? And yet with all the balls and visits from foreign dignitaries, his son showed not the slightest interest in any of the ladies and few of the gentlemen throwing themselves at his feet. The King briefly entertained the idea of sending the Prince on a Quest, but frowned-Quests really weren’t in style nowadays, and he was sure the Prince would balk at the idea having to stay outside for more than a day without at least five servants accompanying him. And so the King did the only thing that made sense to him-try to be as subtle as possible about his wishes for the Prince to find someone to live Happily Ever After with.
Unfortunately, as well-intentioned and harmless as the King’s suggestions were, the Prince could not see the reason why his father had to press the issue so insistently. Distressed and aggravated, the Prince promised that by the stroke of midnight on his twenty-first birthday, he will have named his betrothed. Satisfied, the King agreed, and began handing out invitations to all the neighboring kingdoms, with many of the royalty vying to win the Prince’s hand.
Which is where we find the Prince, fumbling over his vanity desk in his bedchambers, organizing and reorganizing it in an attempt to calm down. Despite completely rearranging his facial powders alphabetically instead of by shade, he’s still not finished. He pulls out one of the many drawers in the desk, and rooted around for his jewelry box, passed on to him by his mother. His anxiety fizzled out, and he smiled, opening the lid and quietly taking out the fragile pieces. A pair of emerald earrings, golden bracelets, silver rings, and her favorite necklace-
He blinks. Noticing that the necklace has a certain smudge on it, he rubs it, trying to get it off.
Click.
He blinks, pulling the necklace so the two parts came apart. Some of the chains tumbled off and dropped at his feet.
He screams.
--
This should be it. Kurt looks around, and back at Finnegan, who merely shrugs. Kurt grits his teeth slightly. Finnegan is harmless and friendly, but Kurt would bet the whole kingdom that there weren’t enough brains in the guard’s head to fill a thimble. Still, it looks right-a cozy cottage with smoke rising out of the chimney, with a row of tulips decorating the pathway leading up to the house. On the side, there’s a small workshop with a few hammers and anvils clustered around the doorway.
“Stay, Finn.”
Finn nods with a big goofy smile, and Kurt heads over to the workshop, careful not to disturb anything. He pokes his head in the shack, eyes flickering over the swords, emblems, and half-finished weapons lay scattered around. He wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell of ore and the fact that no one was in, deciding to try the house, but he hears shouting coming from the back, and detours around the small workshop to see a small stream, and three men ankle deep in it, throwing rocks at each other. And laughing.
Kurt rolls eyes, crossing his arms. Two of the men he recognized-Anderson the knight and Adams the court mathematician who both were wearing simple garbs, their official uniforms both laying a few feet away, nicely laid out in the sun. They were ganging up on the third man, who despite the disadvantage, seemed pretty well-matched to take the two on. The man was built like a troll, with tree trunks for legs, a wide, broad chest, and sinewy, bulky arms. Despite his face being darkened with soot, it was brightened with a radiant smile that almost made Kurt’s eyes hurt looking at it, as he flung rocks at the other two, who’re dodging as best as they could while foraging for stones to hurl back. One managed to nick Anderson in the head, but besides a short cry, the knight laughed, absentmindedly swiping a hand over the blood trickling down his face.
Imbeciles.
“And what is going on here?” Kurt asks abruptly, stepping closer and trying to keep the tone of his voice stern as possible. All three turn their heads, and immediately, Adams and Anderson steps out of the stream and kneels before Kurt.
“Your highness.”
“My lord.”
The last man looks on, before meeting eyes with Kurt and executing a hasty bow.
Adams raises his head, “A defensive drill, your highn-“
“We were just having a good rock fight,” Blaine butts in, seemingly unaware of the other two’s glares.
Kurt doesn’t even bother to try to understand. “Whatever, I just need to know where the goldsmith is.”
The man at the back raises a hand. “That’s me.”
Kurt scoffs. He can’t really help it-it’s been awhile since he’s heard something so ridiculous. Those huge, dirty, grubby paws attempting something so delicate as working with gold? Hysterical.
“I’m being serious.”
The man squints, “And so am I-I am David Karofsky, son of Paul Karofsky, the original black and goldsmith in this village.”
“In that case, please go get your father.”
“That would be a little difficult, your highness,” David seethes, spitting out the title, “he passed away last year.”
Kurt flinches, and looks away, not liking the glower that's aiming right at him. “Anderson, you don’t suppose you know a more capable goldsmith in the vicinity?"
The Knight shakes his head, "You're not going to find better craftsmanship in the entire kingdom, your highness. I don't think even Alvea or the Stramdraff Territories have anyone that can compare with Davey here," he claps a hand on the large man's shoulder, before getting shrugged off roughly.
Kurt squints, but sighs, relenting as he passes over the small satchel that held his mother's necklace, trying to keep his hand from trembling.
"I better get this back, and it better be in one piece. I will be back tomorrow," he snaps, before sharply wheeling around and walking back towards the carriage. Finn, who had been taking a quick nap, snaps into action as soon as he hears the sharp clacking of Kurt's boots, and hurries forward to open the door for the Prince, and scuttling to the front to get the horses moving. He waves a cheery goodbye and heads off in the direction of the castle.
A beat.
"What the hell was that, Anderson?!" Adams demanded, incredulity written all over his face.
Blaine looked at the both of them, utterly confused. "What?"
"We were trying to save our reputations from being totally maimed, and you ruined it!"
"Rock fighting is nothing to be ashamed of, gentlemen, it was all in good sport and--"
"Good sport my ass, you two ambushed me while I was trying to wash up. Also," Dave points at Blaine's head, "you're still bleeding there, Good Knight."
Blaine answers by chucking a rock at David's face.
--
Kurt can't calm down.
He's pacing his room, and if he was any less nervous, he'd be mourning over the state of his poor carpet-- but as of now, he can only imagine horrible, terrible things happening to that necklace, his mother's heart and soul.
What if that brute destroyed it? Melted it down and sold it off to some scum in the black market? Pawned it off and ran out of town? Kurt claps a hand over his mouth. Oh god, what has he done? How could he-- what was he thinking?
No time to dwell on it. He throws on a wool coat from the closet and slips out of his slippers and into his boots. His only concern was how to get pass the guards this late at night.
--
And apparently, the Goddess hates him.
The Prince seethes, shutting his bedchamber door once more. Out of all the royal guards on duty-- tonight had to have Noah and Michael? Kurt's pretty sure Noah's got a nose of a dog, and Michael's ability to spot even the faintest movements have made him a popular hunting partner when autumn begins. And even if Kurt is wearing his quietest boots, he's unsure if it would be enough to keep him from being undetected. He walks briskly over to the window, throwing it open, and letting the bitingly cold night wind cut across his face. He looks out.
Well, it's not too bad...just a hop, skip, then he can grab onto that ledge, which should be able to swing over to that tower...
He grips the rope he stashed in his closet, and scrambles out onto the balcony.
--
After an hour later, he's stuck.
He underestimated the distance from the library window and the kitchen's roof, which has him suspended between the two, at least thirty feet up from the ground. He pulls himself half-heartedly up, feeling his arms tremble.
Curse that blasted blacksmith! He contemplates for the thousandth time that night if simply dropping down to the ground will kill him or only break every bone in his body, while mulling over the pros and cons of each.
"How's it hanging, your highness?"
Kurt hisses, and squirms to twist the rope around the 180 degrees to confront the person who dared to make light of this predicament-- he should've known.
"Karofksy! Who in blazes told you that you could enter royal grounds?!"
David shrugged, "I finished fixing your necklace, and I figured I could get Adams to join me at the pub while I dropped this off." He pulled out the satchel that Kurt had given him, shaking it slightly. Kurt widens his eyes slightly, before realizing-- oh right-- he's still fucking stuck clinging onto a rope.
"Anyways," David goes on conversationally, as if he wasn't talking to someone dangling several feet above his head, "I'll leave this here..." he bends down, placing the bag on the cobbled floor of the courtyard, "have a good night, your highness."
Kurt pursues his lips, trying to ignore how sore his hands are and how calloused they're getting. He wasn't going to bend, he wasn't going to break just for the amusement of this overgrown ape...
"Fine! I hope someone slits your throat and--" Kurt stops, feeling himself sinking down, and looks up at the unraveling string.
There wasn't even time to scream.
--
He really wasn't going to leave him there.
Really, he wasn't. He wasn't sure why, but he supposed the Prince had a reason he was sneaking out of his own castle so late at night, and even if he didn't, well--
Intent on finding Azimio so they could figure out how to get the insufferable Prince down, he was almost about to head over to the stables when he heard the -snap-.
Sucking in a breath, he tore back to the middle of the courtyard, stepping on flowers and vaulting over bushes. Goddess, please, please, please let him make it-- at the last few feet, he lunges and dives down, arms outstretched.
And caught the Prince, though not how he planned. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit! David groans, shoving his face into the ground. Kurt whimpers above him, laying sprawled, facing up, his entire back protesting against the impact. He slowly gets up, swinging his feet around and using his hands to push himself up, before grabbing on something round and fuzzy. He looks down.
Oh.
Kurt quickly gets off of David's back and his hand off of the back of the man's head, brushing his trousers and fidgeting in an attempt to look busy.
David stands up a few moments, wobbling slightly and trying to shake off the bright spots forming in his eyes, and Kurt looks on horrified, before bristling and barks at him, “Are you serious?! What did you do that for?”
“Maybe saving the entire kingdom from the grief of having a Royal Pancake rather than a Prince!”
“Oh, so I’m something to be coddled after?” He’s vibrating from anger, staring David down, “That I can’t do anything by myself?!
“Apparently so, if you do stupid stunts like this!”
Kurt points his finger at Dave, his ire raised tenfold “I don’t need your help! I’m fine on my own! I don’t need anyone! Why can’t anyone just see that?!”
Silence. He’s said too much. Kurt can see that sliver of pity radiating from David, and he ducks his head, looking down and finding the satchel. He scoops up the bag and hurries off, trying to keep his nose in the air. He barrels past guards and ignores their questions and remarks.
--
Part Two