Full of Smoke

by Tetra26 a.k.a Batty Gal on LJ

Summary – Sometimes, the one who finds it hardest to forgive you is yourself. Tragedy; character deaths; angst. Wolfram-centric. Wolfram x Yuuri, if you squint – with bifocals on.

Chapter I of III

Sixth Moon, Day 11, Year 24 of the 27th Maou

Six minutes away from the seventeenth hour of the day, death bells started to ring solemnly across Shin Makoku.

Their enchanting tone signaled a death in the royal family that came too early to that person's loved ones, but had been expected for the past year.

However, unlike the last death that occurred at Blood Pledge Castle, this one came naturally.

"Will you attend the funeral, sir?"

"I'm one of the Ten Nobles. It's obligatory."

"Very well. When will you be leaving?"

"I'll leave the day before."

"And your nephew?"

"I don't want him anywhere near that monster again," Walterona von Bielefeld forcefully said to his servant.

"Have you and Günter finished the preparations for the funeral?" Conrart asked.

"Almost. I sill have a few things to work out," Gwendal said.

"Do you think he'll show up?"

"I doubt it. Walterona probably hasn't even told him about it – and you know that he rarely leaves that place or talks to anyone."

The two men looked at each other, both knowing what the other was thinking about.

"Do you think we did the right thing? By staying here by the Maou's side after what happened with our brother?" Conrart quietly asked. It was a question that had haunted him for so many years.

"Honestly? I don't know. I don't think I'll ever know if this was right. I stayed here out of duty but, sometimes I wish I would have left right behind him."

Conrart looked a little longer into Gwendal's eyes before lowering his own to the floor.

"So do I," the sad-eyed man said. "So do I."

In a not-so-crowded market in the Bielefeld territories, five children held hands, danced around in a circle, and sang:

'The Princess rests in her golden grave for now,

Grave-robbers will dig it up and steal it somehow,

Melt it down, into a crown, some bracelets and a ring,

And when the Prince dies they will do the same thing.'

"Great Shinou, what kind of morbid song is that!" a scandalized-looking man asked the merchant that was wrapping up his goods.

"Kids these days," the merchant shrugged as he put his customer's items in the bag. "You would think they would have enough respect not to sing those things when a princess dies."

"Wait, a princess died? Of which country?"

"You don't know? Buddy, what rock have you been living under? The Princess of Shin Makoku, of course!" the merchant said as he handed the man his bag. He went over to attend to his other customers.

The man stood there in shock, his already-fragile mind trying to take in the latest news.

The Princess of Shin Makoku was dead.

The girl who had held a special place in his heart for many years was dead.

Greta was dead.

The front door of the manor was violently closed behind one very upset mazoku.

"Uncle! Uncle where are you!" Wolfram von Bielefeld bellowed out.

"I'm right here, no need to yell," his smooth-talking uncle said from the doorway of the lounge.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me that she was dead?"

"I didn't want to upset you. Come, have a seat in the lounge with me." Walterona looked over to his servant. "Get us some tea," he said.

The two men went and sat down in the lounge. After calming himself down, Wolfram started to speak again.

"Why didn't you let me know? I can handle it."

"Then why are you so upset?"

"Because I wished you would have told me instead of having to find it out in the market."

Walterona sighed. "What were you doing in the market, anyhow? You could have sent a servant."

"I just wanted to... get out, for once," the dejected man said.

The two men paused as the servant brought in and served their tea. After a few moments, Wolfram spoke up again.

"I.. want to go to the funeral."

Walterona almost choked on his tea. "What? You want to go to the funeral? Why?"

Wolfram looked down at the cup in his hands. "I think it might be good for... closure."

"Closure? Of what? If anything, it will hurt you worse than it already has."

"I don't think there's anything that can hurt me more than what has already happened," the man said, softly. Like many times over the past sixteen years, his hands started to shake upon remembering it – and he put his cup down, just to be safe.

"Wolfram, going back there might trigger... that state again. I don't want to see you hospitalized again."

"I won't be. As long as I take my medication, I should be alright."

"Wolfram, it's still not a good idea..."

"Even after what happened between us, I haven't forgotten the times before that. She was still my daughter, regardless. I need to see.. I need to see for myself."

"What happens when you see him? What then?"

The blond was silent. He really didn't know what would happen when he saw the one who almost destroyed him years ago.

"Let me deal with that when it comes."

His uncle sighed again, in defeat. "Fine, you can go, but if you feel like you can't handle it, tell me and we'll leave. Immediately."

Wolfram looked down at the body of the beautiful woman who had once been his daughter.

She had grown up to be so lovely and wonderful, and he had been so proud to have her by his side.

Until that miserable day.

Even now, looking at her lifeless body, he didn't fault her for what happened. He never did. He faulted himself for lashing out immediately at him, thinking that he was somehow violating his daughter. It hadn't even crossed his mind that she had been a willing participant that day.

After everything had been over and done, and he had known the truth, he temporarily lost his grip on reality. For many years, he faded in and out of hospitals – his mind terribly shattered and unable to cope with his surroundings.

And he still couldn't blame anyone other than himself – especially not her.

He still loved her. She was, after all, his daughter.

The fractured man made his way out of the viewing room.

"You've gotten so tall," Conrart said to his youngest brother. "I could hardly believe it was you."

"Yes, I guess I have grown some," Wolfram said, and gave his brother a tentative smile.

"Have you been alright?" Gwendal asked, quietly.

"I'm alright. For now. I'm just taking it as it comes," he said.

"I'm surprised you're here, but I'm happy to see you," Günter said, and the other two men nodded their agreement.

"I'm happy to see you all again, too," Wolfram said, truthfully.

The men stood around the circle, chatting until it was time to enter the shrine for the final part of the service.

As he entered the shrine, Wolfram felt a chill. He was wary of coming across Shinou, for he had more than had his share of him for the past sixteen years. The man had regularly shown up in his life, and hadn't failed to let it be known how he felt about the fire mazoku after what happened all those years ago.

Though Conrart tried to get him to go near the front, he declined and decided to stay in the back – away from as many prying eyes as possible. He was beyond sick of seeing them look at him in pity, as if they were expecting him to break down and cry and attempt to off himself in their presence.

Most importantly, he didn't want anyone to see him cringe as Shinou forced his mind to replay that terrible day from sixteen years ago.