Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Tomo Takabayashi and various publishers and studios. The poem is "Four Winds" by Sarah Teasdale. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warning: AU from the second season

Pairing: Yuuri/OC, Yuuri/Wolfram eventually

Note: This chapter is my entry for my fanfic100's table, prompt 52: fire . Thank you so much to Lockea who had been very kind and beta-ed this fic, making it far, far better than before . Also, because I couldn't find the official explanation about how many days on Shin Makoku was equal with an earth's day, I made it that one year on earth was equal with five years on Shin Makoku.

Beta's note: Heika is the original term for 'you majesty' and was kept in the fansub version of the anime. If you saw the official version, this would have been changed.

Where the Road will Lead

Chapter I

When thou art more cruel than he

Then will love be kind to thee

"Four Winds," Sarah Teasdale

"It has been five months," Conrad said, coming to stand beside his younger brother.

"What...what are you talking about?" snapped Wolfram. He tried, albeit in vain, to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks.

Leaning further on the balcony's rail, Conrad smiled. "I saw you watching the front yard's fountain."

"I'm not! I'm merely inspecting the soldiers training in the yard. You have been too lenient with them lately. How would they protect the castle if someone decided to break the peace agreement?"

"I'm sure Heika will be back soon," Conrad continued, as if Wolfram had never protested.

"But he's been taking longer and longer to come back, and he spends less and less time here each visit." Wolfram complained. Then, realizing what he has confessed, he added, "Not that I miss him or anything, but since he is a cheater…"

From his position, Conrad could see the dusk's sunlight bouncing off his younger brother's hair. The fine strands were too tempting and he mussed said hairs like he used to do when Wolfram was a kid. "Don't worry, it's simply because his lessons are becoming more and more difficult each year."

Yet, inwardly, he must admit that there was truth in Wolfram's words. Even Greta had said so a few weeks ago.

In the beginning, true to his words, Heika came back to Shin Makoku almost every weekend and holiday. Then, after the year was up, he dropped the news out of the blue.

Conrad remembered that day as vivid as if it happened yesterday. The maids had outdone themselves. There was not even a smudge of dirt on the whole palace. The dining room had been decorated with flowers and ribbons, and the table was weighed down by every kind of dish imaginable. The dessert was a two tier cake which Greta had painstakingly decorated that morning.

The teenage girl had been so restless all day and reverted to her old, bouncing and laughing self. Gunter had acted paranoid, finding fault in anything and everything. Wolfram… Wolfram tried to be more difficult than usual, although there was no way to mask the joy in his eyes or the smiles he would indulge himself in when he thought nobody was watching.

But the elated atmosphere did not last far into the night. They were in the middle of dinner when Heika announced that there was a change of plan and he had applied to a university.

When he understood what exactly Heika meant… well, to say Wolfram was furious would be an understatement. He had thrown a great tantrum and rammed Heika with words neither Gwendal nor him realized Wolfram knew in an unrivaled creativity. Until today, the table clothes still bore the singe mark of his anger. Yet, Conrad could not blame him, not when Wolfram's disappointment and hurt was so palpable.

Still, finally, after a lot of fights from Wolfram, reasoning efforts from Gwendal and tears on Gunter's part, they all–like always–were bent to Heika's desire. And since university was more demanding than high school, it was also decided–mainly by Heika–that Heika would visit less often. After all, like Heika said, it was only for four years.

But four years on earth was not four years on Shin Makoku. Months, and even often years, had gone by between one visitation and another. Little Greta had grown into a beautiful woman and gotten married in Heika's sophomore year. Their mother had been engaged to a gentleman from Dai Shimaron and broken it. There had been some skirmishes on the Western border. While Wolfram… Wolfram was still waiting.

Whenever Heika was on Earth (name of a planet, it gets capitalized), there was a profound emptiness in the castle. Wolfram was the best indicator of this feeling. Whenever Heika was around, Wolfram always became animated and there was fire in his eyes. Then Heika would leave and his brother would change in a heartbeat into a demanding and easily angered monster–so much so that his own soldiers had learned to avoid him ─as if to compensate for his lose. Yet, after a few days had passed, he would gradually become more and more forlorn. He would drag his feet when he was walking, sinking into depression. His brother had kept it a secret but Conrad knew Wolfram hid a calendar on the bottom of his wardrobe, on which he would diligently marked every passing day. This would last until Heika's next visit, upon which the cycle would be repeated once more.

Worse, Heika had been in more of a haste to return to Earth. His visits had been cut from two full earth days into one day and finally not even half a day. He had cited homework and exams as his excuses. Of what time he did spend in Shin Makoku, he used half of it for sighing and gazing longingly to nowhere, lost in his own thoughts. Moreover, there was impatience in his significantly lightened steps towards the castle fountain, which contrasted with the heavy, slow walk of his younger brother, who always insisted on seeing Heika off.

Personally, Conrad doubted school was the only thing who occupied their young king's mind, especially given how Heika usually hated the paperwork. But he did not want to voice his doubt, even to Gwendal, in superstition that it would become more real once he mentioned it. Besides, Heika was naturally a kind and considerate person. He deserved the benefit of the doubt instead of a hasty accusation. He would not hurt Wolfram. At least, Conrad hoped so.

"At least, soon the wimp will be back here to stay. What the hell was Yuuri thinking about? Shin Makoku needs its Maou. Can't he see that all the troubles with humans lately have come because of his absence? There are even some rumors of dissent among the nobles,"

Conrad stole a glance to his brother. Heika's long absence had changed him in more ways than what eyes alone could see. Wolfram used to be like the untamed, fiery fire, full of passion and spirit. Now, he was more of a candle, burning desperately against the wind, with almost no reserve left, but burning nonetheless.

"Don't worry, he will be back."

"And he had better come back alone for his sake, being the philanderer that he is."

Hearing Wolfram's words, Conrad felt a stab of unease on his heart. It hit a little too close with his own fear.

"Lord von Bielefeld really likes Shibuya, it seems. Well, at least he uses his temper for Shibuya and not against him,"

Geika had once said to him, when they were observing Wolfram running after Heika in the yard, throwing accusations about his perceived infidelity

Supposing–although he desperately hoped not–that his suspicion was right, would Wolfram change? He could not blame his brother if Wolfram did, but he also didn't like the picture that possibility created. Wolfram was a passionate, stubborn person. He never did anything by half measure. What would he do when he faced such a betrayal?

"Don't worry, Heika knows he is engaged to you," Conrad said instead. "Besides, Heika is a kind person, he won't do that to you," he added, more to convince himself than Wolfram.

Wolfram was silent for a moment, before, in a rare show of honesty, he replied, "And he hates it. He dislikes me."

"He doesn't dislike you. He is just confused. Heika regards you as an important friend."

Conrad used to hope Wolfram would become more open. Yet, at that moment, Conrad hoped Wolfram would stay with his usual method of reaction–anger. He didn't like the bitter and self mocking tone his brother used.

"A friend. He tolerates me as a friend, but not as his fiancé, although I am both."

Conrad sighed. He could not deny the truth of that statement.

"Just give him time. Even if he dislikes you, which I assures you he does not, doesn't that mean he feels deeply for you? After all, love and hate are two sides of the same coin

Wolfram did not answer, although he sorely tempted to voice the question dwelling in his head. How much longer should he give Yuuri?

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The glass fell from Wolfram's suddenly lax grip unnoticed. His eyes and mind were riveted on the sight in front of him.

Yuuri was smiling that kind of smile, the one which light up his face and made his eyes brighter. The one that Wolfram always dreamed would one day be directed on him. There was a light blush on his cheeks when he accepted the congratulations. His right hand was holding the girl's waist carefully, as if she was made of spun sugar, a far cry from his treatment of Wolfram.

That girl, he did not remember nor he wanted to remember her name, looked around with eyes wide in wonder. No doubt she had never seen something like the castle before. She was also smiling happily and leaning close to Yuuri. Now and then, she would look up to him with adoration plain in her eyes and he would look down on her, his expression clearly said that he could barely believe his luck of getting her.

Wolfram wanted to scream. How could Yuuri do this to him? Wolfram was his fiancé, not some Earth girl's. It was his right to stand beside Yuuri. He had waited for so long, faithfully so. The nights were long, the days were suffocating and still even his eyes never strayed. He was the one who had followed Yuuri everywhere, risking his life and disregarding his sea sickness. He was the one who had helped his brothers and Gunter hold this country together, while Yuuri was playing around on earth. How dare that wimp treat him like this!

That girl, that tramp, who the hell did she think she was. This was not her place, not her home, not even her world. She just waltzed in and took what was his. Did she really think she could go unscathed?

He wanted to rip her from him and tear her apart. He wanted to burn both of them, to let the fire scorch and blacken them, so they could feel the pain tearing him. He wanted to destroy them both like they had destroyed him.

Wolfram could feel his eyes beginning to wet. He blinked the tears away furiously. He would not cry, not in front of Yuuri and not even in private. He would not cry again.

He had given Yuuri everything he had and more. How could Yuuri—kind, considerate, Yuuri—stomp on his heart and throw it away as if it was rubbish? What could that girl give Yuuri that he couldn't, except some children?

Moreover, how could Yuuri parade that scene in front of his face, as if his heart or at least his pride was of no consequence? The damn king even had no decency to break their engagement first. He chose to disregard it altogether.

Wolfram felt there were some invisible hands which gripped and clawed his heart. It was hurting, it was more than hurting.

He glanced around looking at those he had called family and friends.

Greta—his sweet, little girl, whom he had read bedtimes stories to, whose wedding he had helped plan and children he had helped babysit, despite them being one hundred percent human—was busy hugging the intruder, telling that girl how glad she was at finally having a mother. Greta had dragged her husband with her, introducing him to her 'mother' while that thief was cooing over Greta's youngest child who was napping in his mother's arm.

His own mother, on other hand, was slapping Yuuri's back, telling him what Wolfram had no doubt was unsolicited love advices. He searched her face for signs of insincerity, no matter how small, but all that he could see was the twinkle on her pretty eyes and her smiling lips.

Gunter was trying to take that girl's attention from Greta and her family. He was fawning all over her and telling her the history of Shin Makoku and Blood Pledge Castle in turn. Wolfram could hear him praising her black hair and black eyes, and how suitable she was for Yuuri.

Wolfram wanted to shake Gunter and shout in his ears. Was that so important, he was dying to ask. Was his dedication less important than the color of his hair or eyes?

His eyes caught Sir Weller hovering behind Yuuri. He had told Wolfram to have faith in Yuuri, to give Yuuri time. He had said that Yuuri felt something for him. Now, he simply stood there, basking in Yuuri's happiness, accepting that girl into the castle.

Gwendal was the only one who didn't pay any attention to the usurper. Yet, he did not speak for Wolfram as well. He only leaned on the wall, sipping his wine and watching the scene unfolding, as if it held no relevance whatsoever to him.

Betrayers, all of them.

Wolfram found it hard to breath and impossible to think. There was so many feeling running through his body at the same time. There was the all-consuming pain and the ever under lying fondness. Then, there was the anger. The anger that burnt brighter and brighter and took all other into it, fueled by the pain and morphing the love into its part.

His control on his fire, usually immaculate, snapped.

Detachedly, he could register that it became hotter. He could hear some screams of fear and a few voices telling him to stop, though he could not distinguish whose voices they were. He didn't care.

He could feel that there were some people hovering near him, but all that he could decipher of them were black shadows. They seemed to try coming near him yet something was apparently preventing them from reaching him.

Then everything went black.

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