Title: A Room With No Windows
Author: Alice
Fandom(s): Kyou Kara Maou!
Spoilers: None.
Pairings/Characters: Günter, Günter's father
Summary: Everything goes from bad to worse and Günter just does not know what to do.
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied character death.
Disclaimer: Alice does not own Kyou Kara Maou. And you all should be very, very thankful for that.
Author's Notes: Prompt for neocloud9 and battygal for a Günter meme; Günter and his family; abandonment + lose of a family member/comfort (Tragedy/Angst.)
A Room With No Windows
He couldn't begin to guess how long he'd been locked in this room, this bare and empty room with no windows and nothing but a bed with crisp white sheets to decorate it. Judging from how many times the assistant healer had been sent in to bring him meals, he'd estimate maybe he'd been in there for at least two days, but he couldn't really remember. He didn't even remember eating the food that was brought to him, though the empty soup bowl on the ground next to him indicated that he must have at some point. He had situated himself in the corner of the room, away from the bed – it looked so much like the bed she'd been laying on last he saw her, dripping and reeking with blood and other bodily fluids – and he had yet to move away from there. His mind had more or less been blank, only occasionally wondering when someone was going to come get him out and how funeral plans were going. He took a moment, during his time in silence, to notice that the bruises on his arms had faded, the healer having worked her magic when he wasn't paying attention. He found it oddly interesting how none of them seemed to want to look at him. Really, now, he wasn't that repulsive. The blood had been washed off and his clothes changed somewhere along the line.
Günter glanced around the room once again and felt a pang of bitterness that there were no windows. How could he watch the activity of the sky if he couldn't see it?
The sound of the door being unlocked and opening made its way through the haze of his mind and Günter turned to see one of the healers shuffling into the room, her eyes averted, with a tray and another bowl of soup for him.
"Your supper, Your Excellency," she said respectfully, not expecting him to reply. She jumped a little when he did.
"You've been outside recently, right?"
She froze mid-step and stared hard at the ground, seemingly frightened at being addressed by him. "Y-yes," she said after a moment, still not willing to look at him.
"Tell me," he said nonchalantly, "is the sky dark?"
That made her chuckle a little. "The sky is always dark, My Lord."
"I mean, is it darker than usual?"
This put her off a bit and she tilted her head to the side, biting her lip as she thought. A strange habit, Günter thought. After a moment she said, slowly, as though not completely sure with her answer, "Maybe… maybe a little. Not… enough that I noticed but now that you ask… I suppose it is, yes."
Günter sighed, leaning his head against the wall. "I thought so."
"Is there something wrong, My Lord?" she asked, moving forward cautiously and bending down to place the tray next to him.
"No…" he said, listlessly. "No… not yet." He sighed again and closed his eyes for a moment. "Now I have another question for you."
"A-alright," the poor girl said, nervously.
"Are you pregnant?"
She blinked, rapidly, and then blushed deeply. "O-oh no, is it showing already?! I mean, I wasn't expecting…! I haven't told anyone yet, I-I'm still, I just got the news myself, I-I…! How did you know?"
"Just a hunch," Günter said, smiling a little at her reaction. "Don't worry. How far along are you?"
"J-just a few weeks, My Lord," she said, calming down from her outburst.
"I see. Congratulations."
"T-thank you, Your Excellency."
"You may go now."
"Yes, My Lord."
She nodded and stood, quickly shuffling out of the room, locking the door behind her, seemingly highly alarmed by their interaction. Günter glanced after her a moment and sighed. So the sky was getting darker. That spelled trouble. Not that he expected anything less; in fact, he was surprised she hadn't already made some sort of move, some sort of retaliation. The fact that she hadn't was somewhat worrying. Her business was with Günter personally and if she hadn't already tried to deal with it… chances were something big was up. She was planning something and Günter didn't even want to begin to imagine what that woman had in mind.
His train of thought was cut off by the sound of the door being unlocked and opened yet again and he turned to look at it with narrowed eyes. No one came into this room unless it was to feed him or inspect him to see if he was physically still well. They'd stopped trying to talk to him after the first day. So who could it be now?
His eyes widened in shock as his father entered the room, escorted by a higher level healer. Klaus von Kleist looked very disheveled, as though he hadn't slept in days – and the more Günter thought about, the more he thought that was probably the case – his clothes and hair a mess, his face pale with dark bags under his eyes. It was not a state Günter had ever seen his father in before and the sight would have probably frightened him a few days ago but he wasn't in a state now that fear was even possible and certainly not of something such as this.
There was a long stretch of silence as Günter examined his father and his father examined him and Günter noted how his father seemed less than thrilled with the environment his son had been placed in. Good, Günter thought, maybe he'll get me out.
Klaus slowly crossed the room and sat down beside his son. The healer stood by the door, acting as a chaperon of sorts. Günter was slightly offended by that but he chose not to comment on it. There were other, more important issues at hand.
"Günter," his father said, softly, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I haven't come."
"It's alright," Günter said. "I'm not… all that surprised. I mean… it's expected. She was your wife and the head of the family… one of the aristocrats, I'm sure you had so much to attend to."
"Actually," Klaus said, biting his lip, "we made a promise, your mother and I, that if anything ever happened to one of us that our first priority would be to make sure you kids were alright. I've spent the last few days looking for some kind of loophole… to get you out of here and out of this… whole situation."
"What situation, the one where they can't seem to decide whether I belong in jail or in with the loonies?"
Klaus shook his head. "You do… realize, don't you? In your mother's will was the order of succession for becoming the head of the family, the next aristocrat in the von Kleist line… and you're first, Günter."
Günter stared at his father as though he'd gone completely mad. "I… me? I mean, I knew that I was first and all, but I mean… considering the circumstances… I'm hardly qualified, I'm hardly ready! I'm not… I can't deal with this right now!"
"I know," Klaus said with a sigh. "Hence why I'm looking for a loophole of some sort. Some way to maybe put Leberecht or Adelinde in charge… I can't take over, obviously, since I'm only a von Kleist by marriage and the head of the family needs to be a von Kleist by blood, but since your mother's will clearly stated you were to succeed her… and there's no way for her to change it now…" He drifted off here and Günter could see the pain flash briefly in his eyes before he gathered himself and continued. "There's just… no way around it that I can see, unless you formally give it up and Her Majesty forces you out of your position."
"I'll give it up, then!"
"It's not that easy, Günter. The people aren't aware that you're here, they don't know anything that's happened, or at least, that it was your fau-" he quickly shut his mouth, realizing he was saying and tried to cover it up. "That don't know you were involved. They've always known and assumed you would take over after Aleit passed away… Her death was so… so sudden and it's left the people uneasy, restless, a bit paranoid what with the rumors going around that she was murdered-"
"Is there any basis for that rumor?" Günter demanded, narrowing his eyes dangerously.
"No," Klaus said, frowning, "but with sudden deaths like this, everyone's eager to blame someone. The point is, though… you know how these people are, how they can get. They like stability and like order and don't like change, not at all. Imagine how they might react to you stepping down and handing over the position to someone else. You should remember… better than most… how the people of Kleist get when someone gets power that they know does not belong to them. With everyone so on edge and afraid right now… it's not a good idea, Günter."
"So what am I supposed to do, then?"
"I've been looking primarily to see if there's a way I can at least act as the head of the family until you're better, until you're able to take on the role yourself, just a year or so, but it doesn't look like that'll really be possible."
"So what do I do?" Günter stared hard at his father. "I can't do this. You know I can't."
"I know…" Klaus said, quietly. "But I think… I think you have to."
Günter let out a bitter laugh. "Right, I feel bad for the people of Kleist, then, putting a mad man at the head of their government. Brilliant."
"Don't say that, Günter."
"Why not, it's true, isn't it? Although," he said, thoughtfully, "I suppose… at least now I know it's all a dream. Before I drove myself up the wall just trying to figure out what was real and what was all in my head but…" His lips curled back in an uncharacteristic smirk and Klaus flinched at the sight of it. "He's gone now. He can't bother me anymore. So from now on, it's all a dream."
A silence settled between them broken when Günter sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. "What's her name?" he asked.
"Irmalinda," Klaus said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Your mother told me awhile back. 'If it's a boy, let's name him after my father. If it's a girl, my mother.' So. Irmalinda."
"That's a nice name. I'd like to see her, I only got a quick look at her before, you know, I got arrested and all that."
"She's quite darling," his father said, perking up at the thought of his new baby girl. "I mentioned your name to her and it was the first thing to make her smile, a real big smile, none of the rest of you lot ever smiled like that so young. She cried when I mentioned the fountain to her, though."
"Why in the world would you talk to her about that thing?"
"I was telling her my life story."
"That must have put her right to sleep."
"Oh hush, my life is fascinating."
Günter chuckled, bowing his head and bringing his knees up to his chest, small tremors running through his body. "Franz told me that he thinks that someone should write a book about my life," he informed his father, who nodded. "And I told him no one would want to read it; it's such a sham, a tragedy at its best. And you know what he told me? He told me, 'it doesn't matter how tragic it is, it'd still be beautiful.' I asked him why and he just smiled that dumb smile of his and said, 'you're in it, Günter. So it's beautiful.'" Tears were leaking out of the corner of Günter's eyes and he placed his chin on top of his knees. "And people say," he said, his voice trembling as he spoke and Günter let out a small sob, "that I'm the crazy one."
Klaus leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Günter's shoulders and pulled him close, letting him cry into his chest. Günter completely broke down then, clutching tightly to the front of his father's already ruffled shirt and wept. Klaus continued to rub Günter's back soothingly, muttering calming words to him every now and then. He had never comforted Günter before, he'd never had to, it was always Aleit's place. Klaus never could comfort Günter even if he tried, his third child such a mystery to him, a source of confusion and constant anger and drama and sorrow and regret, but now, for the first time that Günter could remember, his father was able to do something right for him. He let him cry in silence.
And later, much later, when Klaus had to leave with the promise that he'd have Günter out by the end of the next day, Günter warned his father to keep a close watch on the skies. "It's moving," he said to Klaus, quietly, not wanting the healer in the room to hear, and Klaus nodded in understanding and departed, leaving Günter alone once more with his thoughts and his daze and his memories, in the small room with a white bed and no windows.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
FIN
The end quote is from William Shakespeare's "MacBeth."
Comments and criticism welcome. I know there is a lot in here that doesn't make any sense whatsoever but this is intended to be just one little scene, one moment in his life, and so of course a lot of the things going on aren't gonna be explained here. However, I do have a story to it all that I'm certainly willing to write about and elaborate on if people are interested. :D