As far as the rich and royal were concerned he was a nobody; a disgrace. But regardless of that fact, things were good for Blaine Anderson. His parents Thomas and Ella gave him a good life with what they could manage. His father was a very skilled cabinetmaker. Blaine spent most of his childhood alongside Thomas, watching him work and preparing to one-day work in the same trade. He lived a typical life as most children his age did, being raised by their parents to take over their family's business. Over the years Blaine had become very skilled himself in building things from scratch. He loved to sketch designs and carve things with extra wood blocks from his father's shop when allowed. He was an incredibly talented worker at only 16 years old, and he did enjoy what he was learning.

He and his parents lived in a small home in Vienna, Austria-Hungary among similar peasant families on the outskirts of the main village. Vienna was a marvelously beautiful city. His family's home was rooted in the countryside; farm country to be exact. His house was admittedly small, a single floor building with two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom and a common room. It was made up of wood and stone; his great grandfather had built the home decades ago. Next to the house was a newer addiction: his fathers' shop, which was basically a smaller duplicate of the house itself. The house and shop were surrounded by a low wooden fence, decorated with common shrubs along the pathway from the main road. Their property was plain and ordinary, but Blaine didn't mind.

It was one seemingly normal day that would change Blaine's life forever. He had been walking home from the main village where he liked to frequent after work or when he wasn't working with his father. It was a much more sophisticated and architecturally beautiful place than the area he lived. The buildings were made of white stone with burnt orange roofing, which sat along a small river that cut through the land. There were shops, houses and people there all the time. The village sat at the gates of the castle where the royal family resided.

Blaine was on his way home, walking silently along the dirt path carved out be horse-drawn carriages over many years of heavy traffic. The land here was all open country, mowed down for corn and wheat crops. The land was vacant for miles except for a large oak tree that seemed to grow from nowhere right beside the path. Well, that was curious. Blaine had walked this path a hundred times at least and never had that tree been there before today, he was sure of it. Surely he would have noticed a giant tree, right?

As he approached he noticed a small old man sitting silently underneath. Blaine wondered to himself if he should greet the man, who was now simply looking up at him through long, grey lashes mostly covered by a tattered black hat. The man was dressed entirely in black from head to toe which made his grey facial hair stand out even more prominently. He looked so old and fragile. The man remained silent and Blaine began to feel uneasy as he moved closer, coming to a stop a few feet away from him under the shade of the tree.

All was silent for a moment too long. Then, the man waved his left hand swiftly without words and a small frog appeared in his hand. The frog flailed wildly as if plucked out of a peaceful sleep, long legs flapping in a panic. Blaine looked down at the frog in amazement, not quite comprehending what had just happened. Where on earth did the frog come from?

The man remained emotionless. He closed his hand around the frog and turned it over slowly, bringing up his right hand to pull a healthy rose from the space between his thumb and finger. Blaine furrowed his brows. How could a frog possibly turn into a rose? He opened his hand to illustrate that the frog had now disappeared. The rose was definitely real. He admired the soft red petals and dark green stem, noting the lack of thorns. It was physically impossible to have fit that rose with its long stem in his closed fist and yet the man had done just that.

The man held the rose vertical in the air, fingers barely keeping grip on the end of the stem. The man was not finished. He brought his gaze to Blaine's as if telling him to watch closely. Blaine was terrified by the man's tortured eyes. They were cold, grey and lifeless. Blaine flicked his gaze to the rose as silently instructed but the man kept his eyes on Blaine. A beat, then the man gave the rose two shakes and the rose instantaneously turned into a wooden flute of the same size. The man continued to look at him still, not even acknowledging the flute as it started to float out of his hand and up into the air on its own accord.

Blaine watched as the flute floated slowly upwards and away into the air, his eyes wide in utter confusion. Just as he thought he would lose sight of the flute, it morphed into a beautiful blue and black butterfly and scuttled off into the distance. He quickly turned back to the man who was now hunched in on himself. To Blaine's surprise, the man slowly began to disappear right before his eyes. As if the entire situation had been some extreme figment of his imagination, the tree vanished in an instant as well. It just popped right out of existence. An entire tree. Gone. There weren't even any fallen leaves to prove it existed in the first place. Blaine tumbled backwards on his feet, landing ungracefully on the ground.

He slowly brought his knees to his chest, the heels of his shoes dragging through the dirt below. His mind was reeling. What had he just seen? Who was this old man? Where on earth did he come from? Why had he presented himself to Blaine and shown him this?

A magician… Blaine thought to himself, unable to move from his spot in the road. He was enthralled and very intrigued by the show that he had just witnessed. He wanted to know more.

When Blaine finally found himself back at home, he didn't inform anyone of his encounter with the strange old man. A part of him wondered if he really was imagining things. The walk from the main village back home was fairly long and the weather was hot, truthfully he could have imagined it. His father had joked more than once about Blaine's 'wild imagination'.

He recalled the man's face; it was so emotionless and almost broken looking. It was full of deep wrinkles and weathered leather skin unlike any face he'd ever seen. He wondered how old the man was, he was definitely older than any person he'd ever met. Then again he did live in a poor area where people died earlier compared to the wealthy people of the main village, and the royalty that lived there. Blaine guessed the man was probably a traveling magician. Now he really wished he would have had the chance to talk to him, ask him where he had been and the thing she had seen.

Blaine sat himself on the floor next to his bed, tossing a small red ball between his hands. He became obsessed with the tricks. The idea of magic had easily taken over his mind. He pondered how the man had made the frog first appear. Blaine had clearly seen there was no frog in his hand to begin with. There is no way he wouldn't have noticed the man pulling the frog from his pocket or sleeve like some cheap trick. With a flick of the wrist the uncoordinated live frog had appeared in his open hand. Blaine imagined himself making the frog appear, flicking his wrist in the same way. Of course, no frog magically appeared there. He sat back against his dresser, the back of his head bumping off the drawer behind him. He moved the red ball from hand to hand again. Maybe he should start smaller.

A few weeks later found Blaine walking the streets of Vienna once again. He was on a mission. He was carrying a wooden stick in his right hand horizontally, balancing an egg on the end of it as he walked. He was working on his concentration and balance, mostly to prove to himself that he could do it. He was using his mind to keep the egg from falling off the end of the thin, rounded stick. During the few weeks of practice he had actually become quite good with small tricks. He had shown no one what he was learning and working now. Even now, no one would know what he was doing with the egg. Anyone with common sense would know keeping the egg there on the end of a stick was impossible with just plain determination. However they would probably just shake their hand and continue walking (which they did), wondering what kind of strange boy walks through town with an egg. Blaine resisted laughing at their blind stupidity.

As he crossed the street, he vaguely noticed four young boys around his age on tall brown quarter horses waiting for him to pass. He knew the boys; everyone in Vienna knew the boys. First was Benjamin, and then there was Elijah and close beside him was Harold. He didn't particularly care for any of them. They were born into incredibly wealthy families and looked down on people like Blaine (who made up most of the Vienna population). It was the boy on the end that caught his attention the most. It was young Kurt Hummel, Duke of Teschen. He was born into wealth and royalty like the other boys, but he was different. Kurt never made jeers at Blaine like the other boys. In fact, Blaine had never heard him speak at all. It wasn't like he got to see the boy often, he only saw him when he went riding with the other boys through town. The first time Blaine ever saw the boy was years ago. He had been captivated in a way he still didn't quite understand. Kurt was enchanting to say the least. Kurt was also a duke and the wealthy did not acknowledge the poor, and that was all that Blaine was. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to accept that fact.

Unbeknownst to a preoccupied Blaine, Kurt was smiling and watching him as he slowly made his way across the street. He was mesmerized by the short, curly haired boy with the egg.

"Don't drop it!" Benjamin sniggered.

"Careful, you're going to trip!" Called Elijah.

"Ally rat." Harold spat, clearly repulsed by Blaine's presence. He pulled his horse to steer right and away from Blaine, taking the other two hateful boys with him. Kurt however continued to watch Blaine with a small fond smile. As Blaine made his way down the road towards the river, he followed him on horse. Blaine was acutely aware that Kurt was now following him but he was still trying so hard to concentrate on the egg. Any wrong movement or slip of concentration would send it falling to the ground easily. Kurt was probably just waiting to ride around him; it wasn't like Kurt knew who he was. He was a no one, certainly not in the same social class as Kurt Hummel. He was certainly not deserving of an actual conversation with him. Blaine was under servant status, and that was being generous. The only thing worse would to have been a beggar, living on street corners begging just to stay alive. No, Blaine wasn't quite that unfortunate and he was grateful for that.

"What are you doing?" Kurt called behind him. Kurt's voice cut through him and he froze up. Kurt's voice was heavenly. Though he probably shouldn't have been so surprised, Kurt himself was incredible. His features were soft and vaguely effeminate. He had gorgeous chestnut hair cut short, most of which was hiding under a small olive bowler hat. His jacket matched the hat colour perfectly, which was buttoned up tightly around his neck with sleeves that flowed down to his wrists. He was wearing black riding gloves and dark slacks. How Blaine could possibly have noticed all of this while trying to concentrate on the egg, he did not know. Kurt was already proving to be a disturbance to his training and they hadn't even been properly introduced.

"I'm practicing." Blaine said simply, a little choked off. He knew that answer wouldn't suffice. He was trying so hard not to let the egg slip that he was actually making it worse. He had been trying to make it across the village with the egg intact but as he turned to walk alongside the river, the egg slipped and cracked open against the dirt road. He let out an exasperated sigh as he gazed down at the clear and yellow liquid now oozing from the cracked white shell. He heard Kurt giggling behind him.

"What exactly are you practicing for?" He question from his seated position through a chuckle, bringing his right hand up to stroke down the horses neck. The horse came to a stop a ways behind him.

"Do you really want to know, Duke Hummel?" Blaine stared at the broken egg. He was agitated that all his work had been for nothing. He still was not mentally strong enough through all of his practicing. He started to believe that he would never be. Blaine turned around, finally making eye contact with the boy on the horse. He figured it was only appropriate to address Kurt formally. He was engulfed by the kind blue eyes that greeted him. They were more beautiful than he had ever realized. Kurt was smiling softly, pink lips stretched upwards into a smile.

"Yes, of course. Why else would I ask, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt replied coyly with a tilt of his head. Blaine couldn't help but scoff out a laugh at that. He'd never been called Mr. Anderson in his life; certainly not while his father was still around. He knew Kurt was only teasing him. Then, Blaine realized: Kurt knew his name, his last name anyways. He felt a flutter in his chest at the realization; Kurt was still looking at him expectantly.

"I'm working on becoming an Illusionist." Blaine said simply with a stiff nod, trying to keep his sentences short to minimize the chance of embarrassing himself. This was the first time Blaine had told anyone what he was doing. Blaine backpedaled in his mind. Why exactly had he just told a duke that he was working on magic tricks? God, I'm an idiot. He awaited the laughter that was sure to come from his confession. Blaine was half glad he had decided that go with the word 'Illusionist'. 'Magician' sounded too childish and it would be difficult working on things if no one would take him seriously.

"You mean like magic and things of that nature?" Kurt looked curious, hand still petting down the horses neck as it shifted on its' feet.

"Ye-yes." His voice faltered slightly as he continued to gaze into the other boys' eyes. He realized he found himself unable to look away.

"That's amazing," Kurt said with a breath, looking out over the water. "I've never met anyone so young who could do magic before. I find it fascinating. We've had magicians come entertain for dinner and I always watch. I try to see exactly what they're doing; try to figure out what their secrets are. But at the same time, I almost don't want to know because then it will be ruined for me and the mystery will be gone." He turned his gaze back to Blaine who was staring at him with wide but gentle hazel eyes. Not only did Kurt not make fun of him, he seemed to very much enjoy it. "Can you do any tricks?" Blaine nodded.

"Only small tricks right now, I've only just started you see." Blaine found himself wishing he knew some big trick that he could do to impress Kurt, to blow him away. He vaguely wondered why he wanted to impress Kurt so much.

"Could I see one?" Kurt blushed a little at his inquiry.

"I don't have any props or anything with me…" Blaine sighed, looking back and down at the egg and wishing he had brought a deck of cards or something with him today. Today if any day would have been the perfect day to have brought something with him. Kurt looked dejected, stroking his fingers through the horses' mane and setting his gaze to the ground.

"If-" Blaine caught himself, clearing his throat to try and make it sound more confident than he felt. "You could always come to my house; I could show you some things there?" His proposal ended in more of a question. He was nervous and already regretted asking Duke Hummel to come visit his house. Why would a duke want to visit a peasant house? He felt the embarrassment of being lower class flare at his heart and crawling through his veins. He never minded being a peasant; he had a good life which he was grateful for. But as he looked up at Kurt, he saw an unattainable friendship. A duke and a peasant could not be friends; it just wasn't the way. Kurt had rich friends who played croquet and drank tea and scoffed at the poor. Friends who wore white suits and top hats and carried canes. Friends who were not peasants like Blaine. Without even saying a word the idea Kurt tore at his core.

He ran his mildly dirty hands through his hair absently, pushing back the curls and trying to tuck them behind his ear hopelessly. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Blaine was too afraid to meet Kurt's gaze now, too terrified of seeing what disgust or what pity lay there.

"I'd love to." Kurt said softly. Blaine jerked his head up, wondering if he'd really heard Kurt speak those words.

"You- you would?" Blaine stuttered again, cursing himself internally for being so utterly and completely flustered. Kurt nodded and smiled again; he had the most beautiful smile Blaine had ever seen. The boy himself was radiant; clearly the looks of royalty were bred into him. Most of Kurt was covered in the olive outfit he wore but the skin face was milky white. Blaine felt slightly weak in the knees. While the colour and style of his clothes were too much for Blaine to pull off successfully, it suited Kurt perfectly.

"We can ride together, if you like." Kurt piped in, pulling off his riding glove and extending his hand to Blaine. Blaine took a moment to look at Kurt's hand, which was nothing like his own. His hands were ugly; calloused and discoloured from working with his father. Too many times he'd let a hammer slip and the adverse affects of sanding were evident. Blaine guessed that Kurt had never worked a day of manual labour in his life, and would probably never have to given his status. He was silently jealous of the life Kurt led.

How did it come to this? How did it come to Duke Hummel extending his beautiful hand to him? How was this not a dream? Blaine contemplated pinching himself to be sure, and then decided against it for fear of making the situation awkward. Yes because pinching myself casually in front of Kurt would so not be weird at all.

His heart leapt as he crossed the distance between them and took Kurt's hand. Kurt shuffled back in the saddle to allow Blaine enough room to jump on. It was awkward and uncoordinated, but he was able to kick his foot into the stirrup and jump up onto the horses back in front of Kurt. He hoped the horse would be able to handle the extra weight, but it wasn't too long of a ride. Blaine wrapped his hands in the reins and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist as if it was nothing. Blaine's heart raced at the contact as he felt Kurt press up against his back. A shiver went through his entire body. Things had never felt so right than in this moment, with Kurt so close to him… He was so hopeless. Blaine made a clicking sound with his tongue and gently nudged the horse in the ribs with his foot, urging it forward. The horse started off in a quickened walk, trotting down along the riverside and over a small stone bridge as they made their way into the countryside.

Blaine's mind was working quickly as he tried to calm his racing heart. It felt so good to have Kurt clutching him around his waist. He could feel Kurt's fingers against his clothed stomach. He'd never had that kind of contact with another person before, especially not with one that made him feel the things he felt right now. It was then that Blaine realized how strong his feelings actually were for the boy he barely knew. It overwhelmed him. He debated with himself about having these feelings about someone he didn't really even know all that well. He tried to force them away, tried to hide them for the time being but with Kurt so close to him, around him, it became an impossible task.

Within a short amount of time (Blaine immediately realized how much faster the journey was by horse, or maybe it was because he was panicked the entire ride), they were trotting up the path to Blaine's home. Kurt tied up his horse in the fenced backyard under the shade of a tree and followed Blaine inside. Blaine led him to his bedroom, swinging the door open to reveal a small but comfortable space. Kurt removed his hat and placed his riding gloves inside, setting the hat on Blaine's dresser table.

"I know it's not much…" Blaine trailed off. Kurt's eyes danced around the room. Blaine's bedroom was indeed small; Blaine imagined Kurt's bathroom was probably bigger. It had two windows on the outside wall that lit up the entire room with sunlight, with his bed parallel to the windowed wall. He had a dresser between the bed and wall and another dresser between the windows for his clothing. There was a small working desk under the right windows farthest from his bed where Blaine worked on his small projects. Every piece of furniture had been made by his father and was beautifully crafted. Mr. Anderson was well known in the city for his handy work; even the royals hired him to create exquisite custom pieces for them. In fact, Blaine knew that Kurt's parents had hired his father multiple times. Blaine guessed that Kurt had no idea of this fact.

"It's lovely, Blaine. Very quaint." Kurt smirked towards Blaine and Blaine felt heat rise on his cheeks. Kurt's shoes made soft clicking noises as he paced across the wooden floor towards Blaine. "Will you show me something?" He asked softly, clasping his hands together. He sounded as if he was afraid to ask even though they had ridden all the way here for just that purpose.

"Of course." Blaine said all at once, crossing to his dresser drawer and picking out his red ball and pocketing a deck of cards. He closed the drawer slowly and turned around, tossing the ball between his hands. He walked swiftly into the middle of his room and sat on the floor which was covered in a midsize round rug. The rug was made by his mother and Blaine often found himself working on his magic while sitting on it. He motioned with his left arm for Kurt to join him on the floor, and he did. He crossed one leg over the other and slowly crouched down onto the floor, looking slightly uncomfortable has he did so. Kurt's jacket flared awkwardly around his thighs; obviously not meant to be worn while sitting on the floor. Blaine smiled to himself at the awkwardness of it, but was too shy to offer to take Kurt's jacket for him. Was it proper to ask a duke to remove his jacket? Blaine didn't want to scare Kurt off or make a fool of himself any further than he already had and asking Kurt to undress didn't seem like a wise move.

"So, you've seen magic before obviously. Like I said, I'm kind of a beginner so you'll have to go easy on me. I've got a few tricks I can show you though." Kurt's smile grew considerably at the promise of a show. Blaine took the red ball into his right hand, palm up. Kurt watched his hand carefully. He closed his fist around the ball and brought his other hand to help conceal it. He held still to add to the dramatic effect. When he opened his hands, the ball had disappeared. Kurt looked at him expectantly but Blaine did nothing.

"Is that it?" Kurt asked, looking slightly disappointed. His eyes flickered from Blaine's hand to his face, "You just make it disappear? But you have to make it come back! It's not nearly as impressive if you can't make it reappear." He said with a pout. Blaine just smiled knowingly at him.

"Well maybe if you gave it back to me…" He gestured with his hand to Kurt's coat pocket. Kurt gave him a look of confusion, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head before reaching into his pocket and pulling out none other than Blaine's red ball. Kurt gasped, holding the ball in his hand. He looked to Blaine's face in shock.

"How did you do that? How did you get it into my pocket without me noticing? I surely would have felt if you put your hand there, and I was watching your hands the entire time!" Kurt was smiling broadly now, half laughing as he spoke, trying to make sense of the trick. Blaine simply raised his eyebrows smugly. He had impressed Kurt and it felt wonderful. Kurt looked so enthused; his eyes shimmered in the golden sunlight filtering through the bedroom window. Kurt was so beautiful when he was smiling like that. He smiled so broadly Blaine could see his beautiful teeth peeking out under his lips. His lips… Suddenly Blaine realized he had let his mind wander and snapped himself back to the present.

"Well Duke Hummel, that's the whole point of the trick, isn't it? The mystery of it all?" He told Kurt, grinning devilishly. Kurt's smile faltered.

"You know, you don't have to call me that." Kurt huffed.

"What do you mean?" Blaine looked at him in slight confusion.

"You don't have to address me so formally. We must be around the same age, if not the same I would think. "

Blaine nodded. "What shall I call you then?"

"Well my name of course, Blaine. You may call me Kurt."

"You know my name?" Blaine softened at the thought. Kurt knew his name. He knew it! And Blaine didn't even tell him! Kurt laughed.

"Of course I do. Your father talks about you all the time when he visits to install new pieces." Blaine felt a flutter in his chest for what must have been the hundredth time that day. "He's says you're very skilled for being so young..." Kurt was blushing again; Blaine noticed the blush staining his cheeks pink. His heart leapt in his ribcage. Kurt was blushing; did that mean he felt the same way? Clearly Blaine was over-reacting; he was never very good at being realistic. But he hoped…

"Would you like to see another trick?" Blaine looked at him with hopeful eyes and Kurt nodded. Blaine plucked the deck of cards from his pocket. He flipped open the tab and pulled the cards into his palm.

"A card trick?" Kurt leaned forward to watch the cards pour into Blaine's hand.

"Yes. But not like you've seen before, I promise." Kurt looked at him with silent skepticism, cocking his eyebrow slowly and allowing a smirk to grow on his face. "Pick a card."

Blaine extended the cards to him; fanned out between his two hands, face down. Kurt plucked a card from the far left and pulled it towards his chest. His eyes flicked down to take note of the suit and number: the five of hearts. Blaine collected the cards again into a stack.

"Place the card back in the stack, anywhere you like." Kurt leaned forward to slide the card in the lower third of the deck. Blaine moved the stack between his two hands and shuffled them skillfully a few times. After he was finished, he placed the deck in his right hand and extended it to hover between the pair, back of the cards facing Kurt. Kurt looked at the deck as Blaine brought his left hand to sweep upwards slowly behind the deck without touching it. Kurt gasped as one of the cards began to shift upwards in the deck without being touched. It seemed to climb right out of Blaine's hands, wiggling upwards until it was floating freely above the deck as if held up by an invisible thread. The look of concentration on Blaine's face was intense, as if he was holding the card in the air with his mind.

Kurt stared with a gaping mouth, unable to comprehend the sight. Blaine was right; he had never seen a card trick like this. He reached out to the card tentatively. He brushed his fingertips against the back of the card before gripping it between his fingers and plucking it from the air. He brought the card towards himself and turned it towards his face hesitantly. To his amazement, he saw the five of hearts staring back at him. He looked to Blaine who was smiling, obviously pleased with himself.

"How…" Kurt trailed off, not really meaning to ask the question because he didn't really want to know. It nagged at him, his brain trying to come up with ways a card could possibly float in mid-air without anyone touching it.

"That was incredible, Blaine. I don't know how you did it." He let out a bemused laugh. Blaine's face coloured under the compliment. He certainly was not used to this positive attention but he really didn't mind; especially when it was coming from Kurt.

He took the card from Kurt's hand slowly, sucking in a sharp breath when their fingertips grazed each other's. Embarrassed, Blaine went to pull his hand away. Kurt looked at him with a shy smile and caught Blaine's wrist in his hand. Blaine could have died and went to heaven in that moment. He would have been fine with that. Kurt was touching him, holding him! The card was discarded on the middle of the floor in an instant.

He was about to speak when his bedroom door thrown open, scaring the pair out of their interaction immediately. The entire room vibrated as the back of the door slammed against his bedroom wall.

"Duke von Teschen!" A man yelled. This was not going to be good. Blaine felt fear ripple through his body. "You can't be here with this- this… peasant!" He said, thrusting his arm in Blaine's direction. The man hesitated before the last word and Blaine was silently grateful he'd chosen a word that was not nearly as offensive as what the other boys had used earlier. "Remember who you are!" The man grabbed Kurt's arm harshly, pulling him up from his seated position and practically dragging him out of the room.

"Kurt-" Blaine started to stand but there was a hand on his shoulder, a second man pushing him back to the ground.

"I'm sorry, Blaine…" He said softly, trying his best to fight back but failing miserably. The men were huge and overpowering; there was nothing that could be done. Blaine could have sworn the boys' eyes looked wet and the realization broke Blaine's heart. Blaine watched with eyes of sorrow as his new friend was taken away from him.

He rubbed his fingers over his wrist absently. He knew this was too good to be true. Even if Kurt wanted to be his friend, wanted to be more (God, he had hoped Kurt wanted to be more), Kurt's family wouldn't allow it. He felt the shame wash over him again as he listened from his spot on the round carpet. The front door slammed closed and the sound of horse hooves trailed off into the distance.